Don't Forget Dad - Guest Post by Robyn De Beer (Mrs D Plus 3)

After my first child was born I was very unexpectedly struck down with Post Natal Depression.  I know ‘struck down’ sounds a bit dramatic, but that’s how I felt.  I went from a perfectly normal pregnancy where I was counting the minutes until I’d meet my little boy, to almost not being able to be in the same room as him when he cried.

I was so withdrawn and ashamed about how I was feeling that I did everything in my power to hide it.  I actually did a very good job of pretending to the outside world that I was ‘fine’ and life with a new baby was ‘fabulous’ even though it was anything but.

The problem was that I was unable to hide it from my husband.  Living in the same house together and sharing the same bed made it impossible.  He watched me slowly fall apart and listened to me sob myself to sleep night after night.  I was in such a massive state of denial, that in my mind I was hiding it all from him too.

I believed (at the time) that our baby didn’t love me he just loved his Dad.  Why was it that Dad could settle him and I couldn’t?  How come Dad went all doe eyed when he looked at him and I didn’t?  How did Dad get to bond with him so quickly and I couldn’t?  All these questions were running though my head every second of every day making me build up huge walls and barriers of resentment.  I was horrible to him and it wasn’t his fault at all.

Our relationship, which was once rock solid before this little human was born, was falling apart too and I couldn’t even see it.   The more he tried to help the further away I pushed him, until one day he decided to have a intervention and he called my mum.  I was so angry with him for doing it because I saw it as the ultimate betrayal of trust.  This was MY secret and not his to share.

Some time later and upon reflection I can now fully appreciate that by stepping in and doing something he not only saved me, but also saved us, and I will always be so grateful for that.

During the months I suffered from Post Natal Depression the focus was so much on me, the new mum, that very few people actually asked how my husband was doing.  Although he was over the moon by with the arrival of our precious boy, he also had to silently watch me suffer from the sidelines and that could not have been easy for him.

Having a new baby affects everyone differently.  Some people cope perfectly well and others struggle.  It is not always just the mums that struggle; it can also be the Dads and relationships too.

If you are reading this and think that you or your partner may be suffering from Post Natal Depression than please visit or call PANDA (http://www.panda.org.au/) on 1300 726306

Written by Robyn de Beer at www.mrsdplus3.com

"Real life tales of a stay at home mum with three kids. Honest and often humorous, I cover all the ordinary moments that can often be extraordinary if you look closely enough. My blog appeals to anyone who loves cooking with a thermomix, appreciates the odd 'hair-pulling' moments the school run or kids dinner time can bring, loves photography (especially the amateur kind), and sees the bright side of parenting. Life is different every day."

He's Finally Here!!!

Hi Everyone

A quick post to let you know we welcomed our gorgeous son into the world slightly earlier than expected on Tuesday 24th June at 3.59am weighing 8 pound 2 oz. We  are totally in love with our little man who now completes our family of 4.

Over the coming weeks I will continue to post where I can and will also be sharing some guest posts with you from other mum & parentinh bloggers - so watch this space. In addition I will be aiming to write a weekly diarised post entitled "Diary of a Second Time Mum" sharing with you my insights as I adjust to life with a new born and an almost 5 year old.

Here's a little pic of the new man in our lives. I feel blessed that he's chosen to enter the world and share his time with us.

Until I post next, take care and have a brilliant day.

Love

Shanelle

High Flyer

Boarding a flight with a week-old baby was not something I had ever thought I would be doing. I also had never imagined that I would be travelling to the Royal Children’s Hospital to seek out treatment. But I was and we did. And we survived.

Getting on that plane, suitcases being loaded underneath, having no idea of how long we’d be away for, what would happen or what we were in for, was one of the scariest things I’ve done. My need for certainty was incredibly high and my anxiety levels were off the radar. It took a lot of deep breathing to remember that everything was going to be okay, that we would get through whatever was about to come our way.

The flight to Brisbane went by without a hitch. I was able to feed our girl during take-off and landing. No crying baby here. Only a mum who suddenly realised that everything she did was now on show, judged and that her most private anatomy was no longer her own. Breasts that had a mind of their own and were producing milk like there was no tomorrow to keep up with the demand of a newborn. The human body really is amazing. It always knows what to do and when to do it. We get into trouble when we overthink and overanalyse things. Sometimes you just need to let things be.

We checked in at the hospital for our appointment and were sent upstairs for an ultrasound of our girl’s hip. As we navigated our way through the corridors, I soon realised how lucky we were. It was heartbreaking to see other children who were much worse off than our little girl. We started to think that things were going to be okay. We were going to make it.

In the ultrasound room, we got chatting with the sonographer and told them about the experience we’d had in the other hospital. They kindly advised us that the bones of babies can’t be seen by xray until they are about 6 months old. WTF! I started to wonder why we had gone through what we had back there and was incredibly relieved to know that we were somewhere that knew what they were doing.

After meeting the orthopaedic doctor, he checked her out and consulted the ultrasound images. He confirmed that her right hip was dislocated. He told us that it is quite common in breech babies, female babies and first-borns. Yep, we had the hatrick! Treatment is usually a brace fitted on the body to hold the baby’s legs abducted while the ball joint grows into the hip socket for a period of 3 – 6 months. My partner and I looked at each other, bewildered at the simplicity of the treatment, yet overwhelmed with the brace the doctor had just produced from nowhere.

The brace was fitted there and then and suddenly our baby was a boxed package. Picking her up for the first time it was like picking up a robot and trying to cuddle it. It was awkward. Where was our baby! Newborn nappies no longer fit. We had to be careful about the outfits we chose for her to wear. She couldn’t wear skirts or pants or dresses. Thank goodness for wondersuits! That was it, we could go home. “Come back in a month” the doctor told us, “we’ll change the brace because she will grow”. 

Off we went back to the airport. I was exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. I was going through the security scanner carrying our girl and we kept setting the alarm off. Finally it dawned on me that her brace had metal in it and that’s what was setting the alarms off.

Back home that night, the wheels started to fall off. My breasts were so sore and tender from the constant feeding, my nipples had started to bleed and the ends of them were hanging on for dear life. I hadn’t heard about nipple cream and definitely hadn’t read about any of this in the pregnancy books! I sat on the edge of our bed tears streaming down my face, in so much pain, feeling helpless, that I had a crying baby depending on me for food and the one way I had of getting that to her was failing. I hadn’t brought formula, because my rules said that I was going to breast feed. I hadn’t brought a breast pump, because honestly I had no idea about them. Somehow I managed to get through the night.

The next morning, my partner had me on the doorstep of the shops as soon as they opened. We left laden with formula, nipple cream, baby bottles and a breast pump. Looking back now, I wonder why I wasn’t more prepared. Obviously I had no idea of what I could have been in for and no one ever mentioned to have these things on hand ….. just in case.

I’ve come to realise that in life it’s healthy to have more than one way to reach an outcome, more than one way to fulfil a need.  Someone wise once said to me “If you only have one way to reach an outcome, you’re screwed”. You’ve got to have options, more than one way to get to where you are going. Because sometimes you don’t know what you need until you need it.