Pregnancy Archives - PANDAS Foundation UK

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Bodies Beyond Babies

Rachael Jennings, 31 from Doncaster is a proud mum to baby Nell. Rachael experienced pre and post natal depression and anxiety with her first child. Rachael is now on a mission to campaign for better and more perinatal support services.
 
 
Rachael started the calendar campaign after feedback from mothers that they were encouraged to “bounce back” after having a baby. Her aim? To support PANDAS by raising money and awareness, while celebrating the variations of “normal”; of the post baby body.
 

Rachael is also a baby massage and pregnancy yoga instructor, as well as PGCE and Early Years Professional. 

 
She says “I am incredibly proud of the mums who have taken part in the calendar and the supporting team. I plan to continue to work hard in breaking the silence around PND and help others to find self-love.”
 

Pregnancy, HG and Me

Pregnancy, HG and Me – by Jessica from That Mummy Blog. Originally posted here


 

We were blissfully happy.

I went through the typical ‘Baby Blues’ on days 3 to 5 post partum, which included a good cry in front of my in laws on day 3, as for some stupid reason I decided going to a family BBQ was a good idea. It wasn’t.

I felt like I eased into parenting. Breastfeeding went really well, we managed to prove all of our family wrong by actually using our cloth nappies, we were peacefully cosleeping and I had made some lovely new friends from various Mum groups, including the breastfeeding support group I later trained to be a part of. I thought I had it down. And I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was very judgmental of those who didn’t parent in the same way that I did.

We were so cocky in fact, that when my periods returned at 8 months post partum, we decided to let nature takes it’s course. Which was a good thing too as at 9 months post partum, we were pregnant!

It all went down hill from there…we were gleefully happy, but within days my Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG) came back twice as hard. Over the course of the next 32 weeks, I was admitted into hospital for rehydration and fluids a whopping 30 times. 30 times where I had to leave my little girl; my breastfed, cosleeping, little girl, to sit in a hospital where I received IV fluids, anti sickness and pain relief medication until I was able to keep down a dry piece of toast then sent on my way… until the next week. It was heart wrenching. This baby inside of me, that was supposed to fill our lives with joy, was breaking me, mentally and physically.

We had always decided we would only have two children, mainly due to how my body can’t seem to handle pregnancy very well. This meant I put a lot of pressure on trying to enjoy my ‘last pregnancy’ as much as possible. I forced myself to take weekly photo updates, plastering a grin on my face for my family and friends to see on social media. I got a maternity photo shoot done, to try and find some beauty in a crappy situation. I already felt detached from the baby inside me, I resented it from taking me away from my baby girl. I wanted to bond with it just like I had the first time around, but the sickness made it so hard.

During one hospital visit, at around 20 weeks pregnant, a female consultant sat me down and calmly asked how everything was at home. As these are usual questions to ask when a woman is alone in hospital, I thought nothing of it. But then she asked again, I again answered that everything was perfectly fine, my husband was at home looking after our daughter to keep some routine in the upheaval that was this pregnancy. A few hours later, at around 3:30AM, she came back and asked again.

By this time, I was quite annoyed. I knew exactly what she was hinting at, so asked her outright why she was asking. She explained that it was ‘impossible’ to have HG so severely that I would be admitted weekly, which must mean I am trying to get away from an abusive relationship.

Eh, excuse me?! You can see me, not able to even keep water down, and yet you are accusing me of making my condition up because you think my husband is beating me? I was shocked. After finding my words and assuring her my husband couldn’t hurt a fly, and that our relationship was anything but abusive, the doctor then started a different route. She started talking about my daughter, and stated that I must miss her so much during these hospital visits. Of course, hormonal pregnant woman starts crying when she thinks about missing her darling daughter. The doctor smiles, tells me I’m obviously mentally ill, which is why I’m getting so sick, refused to give me any more medication and referred me to the peri natal mental health team.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew that although I was quite down, I knew I was down because of the sickness, not sick because I was down! I was a part of a few HG Facebook support groups, so posted about my situation that same morning. Luckily, I was put in touch with the charity Pregnancy Sickness Support (find out more about PSS here). They were able to explain to me my options, and gave me some great advice on how to change consultants and who they recommended from my hospital, as well as a volunteer peer supporter who had also been through HG. She was my rock. I was able to change to a brilliant male consultant who understood HG completely, we got a game plan and decided that should the HG continue throughout pregnancy (like it did with my first pregnancy) then I would be induced at 37 weeks due to bile acid build up and liver troubles in myself.

Now I knew there was an end, I just had power through. I had assured myself as soon as the baby arrived, everything would be fine. Our family would be complete, we’d live happily ever after…if only life worked like that, eh?

 

You can read more of Jessica’s story here

For information and support regarding Hyperemesis Gravidarum, visit PSS here

MY PND JOURNEY – BY TILLIE MABBUTT

“I don’t want to be a Mum anymore!” I screamed at my husband: the defining moment of a row we were having about something insignificant, but had blown out of proportion.

This sentence was the catalyst for my Post Natal Depression recovery journey.  Those were the words that gave my husband, Shaun, a window into how I was really feeling about being a mum to our nine month-old son.  He stopped still, embraced me, and gently told me that we needed to seek professional help.

From as long as I can remember, the thought of being pregnant; or anyone else being pregnant was just horrific, I suffered with what psychologists call, Tokophobia, fear of birth or pregnancy. I have no idea where this phobia came from. Read More

COUNSELLING BY CATHERINE PANDAS

I’m on the train. It’s delayed. The rain falls relentlessly outside coating the windows in wet spidery patterns. I’m listening to a compilation of Klezmer music and feel very pessimistic about this, my first counselling session for eight years.

I’ve been sat on a waiting list with my local IAPT Service for longer than the ‘standard waiting time’ of 6-8 weeks. I took my daughter along with me to my initial session last week, needless to say it wasn’t very productive. I dropped her off with a very good friend this morning in order to attend this session on my own. I don’t really know what to expect from it as counsellors are all so different. From what I saw last week, he seemed like a nice bloke, but I have no idea if he’s capable of scooping the black treacley mess out of my brain and turning it into something I can deal with constructively. We’ll see. Read More

MY STORY BY CARLY RICHARDSON

Before I start I have to say how happy but nervous..scared and emotional I was about sharing my story. Its something that has all been locked up in a box at the back of my head for so long now I almost don’t think about it anymore. But I think that if just one person can gain something from reading this, then it’s absolutely worth me emptying that box at the back of my head again and throwing it all onto paper. Here goes! Read More

MY EXPERIENCE OF PND AND POSTNATAL ANXIETY – RACHEL HAWKINS

Before I begin, I want to make it clear, this blog is not another ‘Mum blog’, there’s plenty of decent ones out there and it’s not my style.  We all know the trials and tribulations of parenting, the funny stories (my son threw his dirty nappy across the room last week) and the tough days that almost leave us mentally scarred and grabbing for the wine.

This post, is for me to discuss my experience in the first days and weeks after giving birth and how in my opinion, more needs to be done to prepare women for the emotional and mental difficulties many new mums experience when they’ve had a baby.  I really feel we could do more.

Looking back to my pregnancy, I can’t recall ever discussing the emotional and mental turmoil you can experience after giving birth.  My pregnancy was a consultant led pregnancy as I’m a haemophilia carrier, so all attention was focussed around the implications for my baby, should he be a sufferer and the birth plan, as I had elected for a caesarean section for medical reasons.

I can recall being around 6 months pregnant and having a conversation with a friend of mine who has 2 children, she asked if I was nervous about the mental health side of things once I became a mum.  In my naivety, I told her I’d given it no thought and knew I would be OK because I’ve had anxiety etc. before so would know how to deal with it.  I was so wrong, so ignorant and so naïve.

My pregnancy had been relatively easy, aside from some SPD pain and worrying about the potential haemophilia status, it was in no way as bad as it could have been.  I was even looking forward to the caesarean section, I knew the day my baby would be born and had heard some very positive stories regarding C-sections.

Things didn’t quite go to plan however. Read More

INTERFERING MIDDLE CLASS – THE SUPERIOR STREET HARASSER BY LAURA DAVIS

I have always hated being hassled by strangers. It is my kryptonite. Time was, like lots of women I was only hassled for the following: having large breasts, being ugly, being attractive, being fat, being thin, wearing a short skirt, wearing trousers, wearing shorts, wearing pink, wearing black, wearing a red cardy, wearing a red coat, not smiling, smiling, wearing makeup, not wearing makeup, being pale, having a nice arse, having a fat arse, having no arse(?), for listening to music (my headphones were yanked out of my ears by a man who was angry I had chosen to listen to my music, meaning I couldn’t hear the stuff he was shouting at me as I passed. How rude of me), and for generally being female in public without due care and attention. This is my experience and nothing compared to the crap you get if you are not white and heterosexual. Also, the fellas don’t completely get away unscathed. I know plenty of men who have been abused for having long hair (of course, a strangers hair length can be a very provocative issue), and I also saw a guy who was wearing a yellow t-shirt and black jeans being yelled at by some builders for being a “Bumblebee motherf**ker”. Well, we all get what we deserve don’t we? I thought this was about as bad as it can get going out into public. This was until I got pregnant and had children. Then I was welcomed to a whole new strain of people who can’t seem to keep their thoughts trapped inside their heads or on occasion their hands to themselves. The middle class busy body. Read More

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