Forgetting
An acquaintance recently posted something on social media about how she struggled with her mental health following the birth of her child. I won't say much more than that, because it's not my story to tell, but it made me think again about my own mental health journey after the Girl was born.
I've made no secret of the fact that I suffered (and still suffer, albeit to a much lesser extent) from postnatal depression. Generally, I try not to think about it now. It's a coping mechanism that allows me to get on with the day-to-day of parenting. I love my daughter so much and I hate remembering how awful those first weeks of her life were. It feels like such a waste. Mostly, I try to rejoice in the fact that it's over and that we have such a lovely, happy, healthy girl. She's well, I'm well. Everything is fine now, and we have so much to be grateful for.
Of course, I do think about it in general terms sometimes - that's unavoidable - and when that happens, I'm struck by how remarkable the human mind is.
I was extremely unwell - more unwell than I've ever been, mentally or physically, to the point that I almost ended up in hospital - but I was able to recover, at least from the worst of it, extremely quickly. I credit much of that to the love and support of my family and to the amazing care I received from the NHS. In some ways, I was lucky (in a very qualified way) to be as ill as I was. It meant I received treatment much more quickly and was able to get back on my feet more quickly as well. This acquaintance of mine is still waiting for the right treatment, nearly two years later.
But I also credit a certain portion of my recovery to sheer force of will. I wanted so much to get better, for my daughter and for my husband, that I truly believe it helped expedite the process. It's that part of my brain, I think, that is responsible for making me think I could do it all over again. I don't deny that good old-fashioned peer pressure is at least part of it (one friend has just had her second and another friend is due in January) but because I've blocked a lot of the worst of my illness out by refusing to think about it, there are moments when I genuinely believe it wasn't that bad. It was just a little blip - a minor inconvenience. I'm able to convince myself, for fairly significant stretches of time, that there's no real danger of it happening again, despite the odds being massively increased because of my history - that, because I've been through it already, I'll be more in control.
They say the ability to forget the pain of child birth is the only reason anyone goes through it more than once. For me, there are many more things to forget. And yet, I'm somehow able to do it. The question, I suppose, is whether I can forget for long enough to get round to getting pregnant again.
There are other things holding me back, of course - the ones I mentioned in my recent post, and also the fact that I really don't know if can I face another year of baby classes and staying up all night, even without the mental health considerations. But there is a part of me - a pretty big part, if I'm honest - that thinks it's inevitable. We're going to have another kid because that's what we always planned and to hang with the rest of it.
The human mind - remarkable.
I've made no secret of the fact that I suffered (and still suffer, albeit to a much lesser extent) from postnatal depression. Generally, I try not to think about it now. It's a coping mechanism that allows me to get on with the day-to-day of parenting. I love my daughter so much and I hate remembering how awful those first weeks of her life were. It feels like such a waste. Mostly, I try to rejoice in the fact that it's over and that we have such a lovely, happy, healthy girl. She's well, I'm well. Everything is fine now, and we have so much to be grateful for.
Of course, I do think about it in general terms sometimes - that's unavoidable - and when that happens, I'm struck by how remarkable the human mind is.
I was extremely unwell - more unwell than I've ever been, mentally or physically, to the point that I almost ended up in hospital - but I was able to recover, at least from the worst of it, extremely quickly. I credit much of that to the love and support of my family and to the amazing care I received from the NHS. In some ways, I was lucky (in a very qualified way) to be as ill as I was. It meant I received treatment much more quickly and was able to get back on my feet more quickly as well. This acquaintance of mine is still waiting for the right treatment, nearly two years later.
But I also credit a certain portion of my recovery to sheer force of will. I wanted so much to get better, for my daughter and for my husband, that I truly believe it helped expedite the process. It's that part of my brain, I think, that is responsible for making me think I could do it all over again. I don't deny that good old-fashioned peer pressure is at least part of it (one friend has just had her second and another friend is due in January) but because I've blocked a lot of the worst of my illness out by refusing to think about it, there are moments when I genuinely believe it wasn't that bad. It was just a little blip - a minor inconvenience. I'm able to convince myself, for fairly significant stretches of time, that there's no real danger of it happening again, despite the odds being massively increased because of my history - that, because I've been through it already, I'll be more in control.
They say the ability to forget the pain of child birth is the only reason anyone goes through it more than once. For me, there are many more things to forget. And yet, I'm somehow able to do it. The question, I suppose, is whether I can forget for long enough to get round to getting pregnant again.
There are other things holding me back, of course - the ones I mentioned in my recent post, and also the fact that I really don't know if can I face another year of baby classes and staying up all night, even without the mental health considerations. But there is a part of me - a pretty big part, if I'm honest - that thinks it's inevitable. We're going to have another kid because that's what we always planned and to hang with the rest of it.
The human mind - remarkable.