Sometimes I feel like I’m on a business trip away as the room I am staying in is like a hotel room as it has a big double bed, a tv, and small table and chairs and an ensuite.
But there are small differences, like the sound of babies crying, hand sanitizers on the walls and a little emergency button I can push if I need help from a nurse.
My daughter and I spend the days together in our room but at night she goes with the nurses who look after and feed her overnight while I sleep.
We are in a hospital that specialises in looking after women with postnatal depression. I’ll probably be here for a few weeks at least while the team of psychiatrists, specialists and nurses help me get better.
It all happened rather fast; one day I was estatic at the birth of my baby and the next I was freaking out that I couldn’t look after my baby, that I’d accidentally hurt her and that my husband and her both might die. I was so anxious that I could hardly lift her and I spent all my days crying inconsolably.
After a week, my lactation consultant asked me to go in to see her and when she did; said she wanted to bring me back to hospital as she was so worried about me.
So here we are a week later. I’m feeling much better but still have a very long way to go before I begin to feel halfway normal again.
There are myriad reasons for why I have ended up with PND and I’ll explore them gradually over coming posts.
Meanwhile our beautiful baby is thriving and growing more gorgeous every day.