We went to Tresillian today. Mainly for Little L’s sleep. Lately she hasn’t slept past the first sleep cycle during the day, and wakes frequently at night. But talking to healthcare professionals always has a way of bringing up sneaky little emotions you never knew were lurking just below the surface.
By chance the weather was awful in Sydney, so my tradie hubby had the day off and volunteered to come with. 10 minutes into the day I saw the look of regret in his face. Don’t get me wrong, he is all for anything that will help
Little L sleep for longer but my husband is the silent, stoic type who runs for his man cave at the first sight of tears. Once the questions about both family’s history of physical and mental health were done came the questions about life
events and anything that is contributing to, in my case, anxiety. As I rattled off thing after thing, I could see the nurse doing her very best not to raise her eyebrows.
As we settled Little L into her room for the day she helped us with the tiniest things we never knew would contribute to her shorter sleeps. Then we walked out and waited at the door for the protest to start. Sure enough, we hear her, 30 seconds later. I say something to the nurse, I cant remember exactly what but was met with the reply, “you seem very,very anxious, no offence. No offence. OK it’s not exactly offensive, but the sleep deprived, anxiety ridden mother that’s just well… there aren’t words. Only tears and “I’m sorry’s” from me.
The day gets progressively worse, or more progressive, depending on which way you look at it. I spend half an hour patting Little L through her awakening in her sleep cycle with no luck. We get her up and watch some DVD’s on
settling. All in all these DVD’s are fantastic, although I’m not sure how practical.
Towards the end of the day I go and have a chat to the residential social worker/psychologist on recommendation of my nurse. Here, I use up the last bit of energy in my emotional reserves. We talk about my relationships, my family, the baby, my birth experience, my miscarriage and my anxiety. My hubby also had a chat to her too. I am also booked in to see her two more times, possible more should I need it. And I probably will, because as the day wore on, I realised I may just have Post Natal Depression. This was a pretty hard pill to swallow at first but it’s not like I hadn’t entertained the idea that I might. I can still go about my day, but that doesn’t mean that I can cope wonderfully all of the time. There have been times where I have been at the end of my rope and locked myself in the laundry for 15 minutes at a time.
To any mums who are dealing with, or have experienced PND or anxiety, I know how you feel now and I send much love and good vibes your way.
Today I was pretty close to hitting rock bottom. But the good thing is that the only real way from here is up.
CC
By chance the weather was awful in Sydney, so my tradie hubby had the day off and volunteered to come with. 10 minutes into the day I saw the look of regret in his face. Don’t get me wrong, he is all for anything that will help
Little L sleep for longer but my husband is the silent, stoic type who runs for his man cave at the first sight of tears. Once the questions about both family’s history of physical and mental health were done came the questions about life
events and anything that is contributing to, in my case, anxiety. As I rattled off thing after thing, I could see the nurse doing her very best not to raise her eyebrows.
As we settled Little L into her room for the day she helped us with the tiniest things we never knew would contribute to her shorter sleeps. Then we walked out and waited at the door for the protest to start. Sure enough, we hear her, 30 seconds later. I say something to the nurse, I cant remember exactly what but was met with the reply, “you seem very,very anxious, no offence. No offence. OK it’s not exactly offensive, but the sleep deprived, anxiety ridden mother that’s just well… there aren’t words. Only tears and “I’m sorry’s” from me.
The day gets progressively worse, or more progressive, depending on which way you look at it. I spend half an hour patting Little L through her awakening in her sleep cycle with no luck. We get her up and watch some DVD’s on
settling. All in all these DVD’s are fantastic, although I’m not sure how practical.
Towards the end of the day I go and have a chat to the residential social worker/psychologist on recommendation of my nurse. Here, I use up the last bit of energy in my emotional reserves. We talk about my relationships, my family, the baby, my birth experience, my miscarriage and my anxiety. My hubby also had a chat to her too. I am also booked in to see her two more times, possible more should I need it. And I probably will, because as the day wore on, I realised I may just have Post Natal Depression. This was a pretty hard pill to swallow at first but it’s not like I hadn’t entertained the idea that I might. I can still go about my day, but that doesn’t mean that I can cope wonderfully all of the time. There have been times where I have been at the end of my rope and locked myself in the laundry for 15 minutes at a time.
To any mums who are dealing with, or have experienced PND or anxiety, I know how you feel now and I send much love and good vibes your way.
Today I was pretty close to hitting rock bottom. But the good thing is that the only real way from here is up.
CC
Tresillian Wollstonecraft - a relic from the past.
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