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Tag: pnd

  • Social Service Baby Snatching Is A Myth-Read My Story

    I’ve seen many many posts recently about social services baby snatching etc. And I want to share my experience as mum whose child was removed.

    When my son was 11 months old, he was removed from my care by social services. He wasn’t snatched, he wasn’t stolen. Though I spent years believing he was. It’s only been the last two or three years I’ve seen things clear enough to be able to accept blame for my own actions.

    When ‘James’ was born, I developed, rapidly, post natal depression. But, listening to horror stories about how SS took babies, I didn’t tell anyone. I hid it. Within weeks the PND developed into post partum psychosis. I used to attack my partner. I used to self harm. I saw and heard things that weren’t there. I couldn’t bear to be near my baby, because I thought him crying meant he hated me.

    But I would physically attack family who tried to care for him, from a belief they wanted to steal or hurt him. For months, I stopped washing myself, stopped cleaning the house, stopped bathing the baby and only wet wipe washed him. I fed him, cleaned his bum, and did the bare minimum. He became sad, pale and withdrawn. My partner at the time, did his very best to try to help me and care for the baby. But with me threatening to kill myself and cutting myself and seeing things, he was so dedicated to my needs, James didn’t get the interaction he needed.

    He was often wearing the same clothes, because I wouldn’t change them. For some reason I got it into my head that they were lucky clothes and if I washed them he wouldn’t be protected from the things I was seeing and hearing. This all happened when James was around 6 months old. Health visitors started noticing things weren’t right, I refused to engage. Told them everything was fine and to basically fuck off. Then, at 11 months old, social services turned up took one look at the situation, and took James into care. I spent two years fighting them rather than actually working with them. I believed I was wronged by the system and they’d seen me as an easy target so snatched my baby for their bonuses. Name a SS conspiracy, I believed it.

    I spent the next four years after his removal, working on myself. Repairing what was broken. I dug myself out of that hole. My son was never returned, and rightfully so. In time, I had a daughter, six years after James removal. I spent three months in a parenting assessment unit. Cctv staff 24/7 never unsupervised etc. I passed that assessment with flying colours. Including the psych assessment. Three years after that, I had another son. This time social services didn’t even feel the need to be involved, such is the extent of my recovery.

    It took 5 years for me to realise my son was neglected in my care. It took me 5 years to accept I was wrong and not SS. It took me years to stabilise myself and to be the mentally competent person I am today

    What happened to me hurts. It breaks my heart. However, it probably breaks James more, wherever he may be.

    I’m sharing my story to show that when you read these horror stories about SS, there’s always two sides to the story. And the story you often hear, is that of grieving parents who can’t see where they went wrong, and think loving their child is enough.

  • This Picture Makes Me Sad And Reminds Me How Awful I Was

    This picture actually makes me sad, while others treasure their scan photos all this does is remind me of how awful I was.

    I didn’t announce my pregnancy until I was over 20 weeks and even then I wasn’t going to because to be honest I was embarrassed and ashamed. Ashamed of the situation I had put myself, I was 17 years old, pregnant with a guy I wasn’t with and who offered to pay for my abortion, working a part-time job and out partying 24/7.

    After I reached the point of no return where abortion was concerned I started to question myself “have I done the right thing?” I’ll be bringing up a child on my own, in a bedroom in my mum and dad’s house, I’ll have no life and no other guy will want to be with me when I have someone else’s child.

    It was all about me! I struggled to “bond” with the bump, never spoke to anyone about how I felt and constantly thought I had made the wrong decision. Eventually I gave birth (awfully of course) which made the situation even worse, I didn’t have any skin to skin contact to bond with her, she was just taken away, I’ve never felt so emotionally, mentally or physically drained in my entire life, looking back on it now I remember the bare minimum.

    I know they took my little girl away to the NICU and came to let me know she had to go another hospital 100 miles away, I was so exhausted I didn’t even want to go and see her, I just wanted to sleep but I did, I sat there in a wheelchair like a zombie totally zoned out while a midwife “milked me” like a cow. Then asked to go to bed.

    The next day I went to the  children’s hospital as baby had been taken there overnight, I remember seeing her all tubed up and my stomach sank, I didn’t know what to do. I still didn’t feel a bond between us, I couldn’t even hold her, she didn’t have a name for 4 days.

    I should have received a lot of help from a psychologist or someone to sort my head out after this but the hospital didn’t offer anything so I just got on with it, looking back I strongly think I suffered with Post natal depression but never spoke to anyone about how I was feeling (as I do).

    I went to the hospital first thing in the morning to last thing at night but still didn’t feel like I should have towards her. Getting her home I remember thinking I wished I could go out and do what I want, have my life back, I was still a good mum but I wasn’t happy. I can’t remember what or when it was that changed in my mind but my baby became my everything as she should’ve been from day 1.

    I feel sick now even thinking that I thought that way. I still think about my life before and how easy it was and I didn’t have to get a babysitter to go to a friend’s birthday but that’s not worth anything compared to having a mini you, my little girl is one of the most beautiful children I’ve met even though I’m biased, she makes me laugh every single day without fail!

    I regret not celebrating my pregnancy and enjoying it for her, I regret not asking for help and I regret doubting my decisions but I don’t think I’d be where I am today if it wasn’t for that.

    I think meeting my new partner was a big turning point, knowing there was someone who would love me with a child. Not only love me but love my child more than anything as if she was his own, now she is his, he’s her dad and we now have another beautiful daughter to fill our lives with happiness. I haven’t suffered any PND this time round thank god, I can’t leave this baby alone 😂 I wish so much it had been the same with my first and I had seeked help. If you have bothered to read this massive spiel and you or someone you know might be suffering from PND then please get help, it is fixable. ❤️

    Related article: http://mums-advice-old-copy.local/to-the-mum-pnd-you-are-not-alone/

     

  • PND Had A Grip On Me

    How having a baby changed my world From my perspective
    Before pregnancy:

    • Nurse
    • Partner
    • Friend

    Avid gym goer

    • Happy

    Able to sleep
    After child :

    I lost all of the above. Except my partner, he was still there. And by god am I glad of it. He makes me carry on when I want to roll over and let my post natal depression take over

    I could no longer go to work (maternity leave), arranging childcare was an absolute nightmare so I lost my status of friend for the most part, could no longer go to the gym as again childcare constraints (HELLO WEIGHT GAIN)

    Depressed, anxious, fearful, paranoid
    Post natal depression had got its hold on me, and by god what a grip it had!

    I lost who I was, I was no longer the nurse, partner, friend or avid gym goer anymore

    Instead, I was “mum” I had lost everything I worked hard for, for one word “mum”
    Now, don’t get me wrong being a mum is fantastic. Amazing. Beautiful

    But hard. Oh so hard. Battling with a crying baby, battling with post natal depression and every side effect that came along with it.

    But I feel like I lost my identity. I couldn’t identify who I was anymore

    My life now revolves around this child…

    I need to teach this child EVERYTHING.. shit, that is a massive expectation! I need to know all the answers, like mums do, I need to become a grown up, I need to be a role model, a friend, a saviour and a discipliner like all other mums.

    So while “mum” may just be one word.. the expectation that comes with it is sooooo much bigger
    I love my kids more than anything in this world, and I will do my damned hardest to keep them out of harms way. I now ADORE being “mum” and realised it’s not as bad as it first seemed.

    PND is a nasty evil illness, but with the right support, help and mental attitude YOU can overcome it