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My Journey Begins

How do you begin to write about yourself? Where do you start? What do you think others will want to know?

How do you start to write about how sad you are?

So, a little about me. I’m 30 and I have a 15 week old son. He is the most beautiful little boy I have ever seen, and he is an absolute dream. He came into the world pretty early and pretty quick, and we weren’t quite ready for his arrival but I guess he just couldn’t wait any longer to meet us! My partner and I have been together for three years and we couldn’t wait to start planning for our family. He is an amazing man and an absolutely incredible Dad. There is no way I could have gotten through this new journey without him.

I have heard about PND (post-natal depression) but never in a million years did I think it would happen to me. I still find it hard to come to the fact that I am a sufferer, especially when I have such a beautiful baby boy.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? I couldn’t let myself believe that I had it. I had a responsibility now, a new role as a mum. I didn’t have time to feel sad. I didn’t have time to think about what I needed to do for myself. I always knew that it was going to be tough. I knew there would be sleepless nights, countless hours of trying to figure out why my baby was crying, hourly feeding and remembering to eat myself. But, I never knew how much it would affect me both mentally and emotionally.

I put it down to sleep deprivation as to why I felt the way I did. Trying to stay positive when the feeling of fatigue was slowly taking over my entire body. The long days of trying to look after a tiny human and feeling like I’m just talking to a wall.  My partner was constantly asking if I was OK and if I needed help with the baby, but I always convinced him that everything was fine.  I was trying to convince myself that everything was fine.

It’s a hard thing to try and accept. Did it mean that I wasn’t cut out to be a mum? Why wasn’t I good at this? It’s MY baby, I made him, surely this should make me feel euphoric?

I can’t remember when I broke. I think that when my partner asked me for the umpteenth time if I was OK, I gave up. I just couldn’t lie to myself and to him any longer. It was draining trying to pretend.  That’s when things went even more so down hill.

The day I admitted to him how sad I really was, I sat down with a glass of wine and wrote out two pages of what made me sad. Writing that down proved that there was something wrong. Why did two pages of my life make me sad? How could that have happened? What made me feel worse was how could I fix it? If I hadn’t of written these things down, then I would not have had to face them. Now I had to. Now that my partner knew, there was no way I could get out of it. Things would have to change.

There were times were I really had to think and ask myself if I did want things to change, surely it was just because I was so tired and I was just being dramatic and wanting some adult attention. But no, it was 100% depression and I had to face it. I had a baby. He needed me. I needed him.

Now that my partner was aware, I think I started to feel worse. I should have felt better, but I used him to take the baby when I had had enough. Someone to take the baby so I could just go away and cry. Someone who would play with the baby, make him smile and laugh. Because I couldn’t. I would watch him and think why I couldn’t be like that. I loved my baby more than anything, why didn’t I want to show him. I used my partner to give our baby the positivity and happiness that I couldn’t. And that’s what made me feel worse. Before, I would force myself be happy. I would force myself to give my baby some fun stimulation, but now I had an excuse, that when my partner was home, he would do it.

He would always insist that I spoke to someone, always trying to get me to call the health visitor but I wouldn’t. I believed that I could do this by myself.

And I did try. But the days I tried, the nights were awful. I would sit and cry as I fed my baby and while my partner slept. I would sit and think why did this happen to me? Why do I feel like this? Will it ever go away?

Most of time I didn’t even admit to my partner how bad some nights were. I hid my sadness as I was scared I would upset him and I wanted him to think that I was OK and I was getting better.

I couldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want everyone to know that I was failing. When friends asked how we were getting on, I lied . I lied so much, I nearly started to believe myself. That was until we got home, it was just me and the baby, and reality hit. Here we go again, just me and a tiny human that I have to do everything for. I tried to make plans with friends because at least then I could talk to an adult about normal life and listen to their stories about their lives without talking baby. It was something I looked forward to. When they would cancel, it would set me back and then have another ridiculously sad filled day. It wasn’t their fault, they had no idea what was going on as I pretended my life was great, they didn’t know that cancelling our plans made me sit straight back in my huge seat of depression.  It was then that I realised I needed my mum.

Opening up to mum made things feel a bit better, I didn’t let on how bad things really were, but I think she secretly knew. Talking about some things did feel like a weight (a very small weight) had been lifted and I could see the tiny light at the end of the tunnel. But again, I was still convincing myself that this would one day go away on it’s own .

I had countless conversations about PND, and how many woman suffer from it, and what needed to happen to make changes. The thing was, was that I needed to make these changes , I needed to own up to this depression and start making a life for my son. I needed to be the mother that he needed me to be. I started looking online as to what I had to do to sort this out. There were pages and pages and this then became overwhelming so I stopped. Then started the vicious circle of my emotions again. I felt like I was fighting a losing battle, but still wouldn’t open up.

My sister, my best friend, was next to know. Now three people knew and again I felt too much pressure to make things better. She however had spent time and sent me links to self-help sites and I never felt pressure to read them. If I’m honest, I didn’t want to read them, I had no motivation to do anything anymore. When baby slept, I wasted time watching TV or reading magazines. My energy levels had pretty much disappeared and I didn’t really care anymore. However, one link I did read. I read from start to finish.

So today, I am starting “31 days of self-love”, and this is my journey.

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Day Twenty Five

Day Twenty Five. 

“Stop focusing on the things that you aren’t and start celebrating all of the amazing things you are . Right here, right now, there are so many things to love about you”. 

I had a mini meltdown this weekend. I don’t know why as I had such a good weekend. My best friend was home from travelling and I got to spend a lot of time with her. She got to spend quality time with my little man which he loved. And I got to spend quality time with her. We even went out out. Which was amazing. 


So why did I feel so crap? 
My little man sleeps through the night. Most nights. But I’m still finding that I am absolutely shattered. All. The. Time. And I think it really got to me this weekend. It got to the point where I didn’t actually know what to do with myself. I sat on my own for what seemed like hours. Why? Why did I do that? 

And I thought. And I over thought. And I over thought my over thought. It really felt like I was losing this battle. 

I can’t control it and I think that’s what gets me down. 

I have worked so hard to get where I am and it is so deflating when I feel sad. And I feel sad and beaten when it’s as though I’ve let my partner AND my son down. 

The way my son looked at me this weekend while I was having a bit of a cry was heartbreaking. And it hit home. I shouldn’t be upset. I have an amazing son. I have an amazing partner. I am an amazing mum. I need to celebrate this more. 

I have incredible days. Watching my son grow each day is the best thing in the world. He is so happy. And I did that. I make sure he is the happiest boy in the world. I can’t let him see me cry. I can’t cry. Why should I cry? What is there to cry about? 

I over think. And I am stubborn about it. Once I’m in that zone, it takes a while to get out of it. So, how I can stop being in that zone? 

I need to be strong. 

I am strong. 

I’m a mum. And a bloody good one . 

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Day Twenty Four

Day Twenty Four.

“When you are angry or upset (with yourself or others) try to respond lovingly and see how it changes the situation. Be compassionate towards yourself”. 

Right now I am trying to get my little man to sleep. We are both frustrated. He needs a nap. He doesn’t want a nap. I want him to nap. I want to nap. And it’s difficult to not get frustrated with him about it. Even though I’ve been rocking him for what seems like days, I must carry on until it works. And eventually it does. 

It’s not his fault. He wants to stay awake and play. He fights it so hard. And however much I get annoyed, frustrated, or angry, I can’t let him see that. He loves me. He depends on me. I must show him that constantly. And I want to show him that.

Once he’s asleep, then I can vent my frustration. Kick a pillow. Throw an invisible plate against the wall. Sit down and have a bit of a cry. 

Because I do know that I’m doing a good job. A great job in fact. And I love my little man more than anything in the world. So why on earth would I show my frustration to him? I’m allowed to have these little moments, because it is difficult and I can’t always win. But I try my best. And trying my best works. 

There has been times where my frustration has taken over, and it does make a difference . My little man can tell. It then takes longer for him to settle. Takes longer for him to get comfortable. Because I’m not comfortable. It’s just not fair, for either of us. 

So the continuous rocking, the repetition of The Lion King soundtrack, the soft cuddles and kisses on the forehead make him comfortable. How ever long it takes. And as I’ve said before , it will happen eventually. I know he’ll go down eventually. 

I show I love him as much as I possibly can. Sometimes that gets frustrating because I want to give him as much love as I can and I think I might actually burst. 

But I think the main thing is, is however hard things get, I never show my anger. I hide it until I forget it’s there. And most of the time, when a cheeky smile looks up at me, the anger/frustration whatever negativity I’m feeling, is instantly lost. 

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Day Twenty Three

Day Twenty Three. 

“Avoid getting sucked into comparing yourself with others. Be a better version of yourself, not a better version of someone else. The world needs you”. 


It’s hard to be told to not compare yourself to someone else. Because let’s face it, everyone does at some point. 


I’m always going to have that little niggle in the back of my mind when comparing myself with other mums. Should I be doing what they’re doing? Should I not be doing this? Why doesn’t my baby do that ? Why does their baby do that? I can’t help that. I’m human . There will always be something that I’ll feel that I’m not doing right. And my first thing to do is to look at others . I guess to check . For reassurance maybe. 
I’ve been so much better since first writing my blog. And I have tried my best to become a better version of myself. I’m happy, I’m healthy, I’m a Mum, and a good one at that. And it has taken a long time to get to this stage. But, in a way , without this journey I don’t think I would have overcome all of the things I write about. 

Rather than comparing to others , I’ve had realisation that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that my baby still doesn’t sit by himself and other babies do. My baby can’t hold his bottle yet, and others baby do. Because every baby and every person is different . And how can I compare anything when everyone is so different . That’s what makes us who we are. 


I mean, I’ll admit I do have days when I’m at a wits end and I’m stressing and crying and my baby is stressing and crying and all I want to know is why. Why is this happening ? Does everyone else go through this? Is everyone else’s baby mental? 

And yes . Every baby is growing and learning. And yes, some days they are all mental. But if I spent my days comparing like I used to, I wouldn’t get anywhere. 

I will probably still be checking out other mums when my little man is 18. Because I guess I’ll never really understand . But, what I do understand is, that it’s OK to have your down days. It’s OK to freak out. It’s OK to raise your baby however you want to raise your baby. 

My little man is 7 months old and he’s nearly crawling. Some of my Mum friends have already passed this stage. But however hard it is to not feel deflated, I know that he’ll get there when he is ready. 

I also struggle with post-baby body struggles. And I am always checking out social media and looking at all those celebs that had a baby a week ago and have their abs back. I’m always comparing with them and that’s really hard. My partner is constantly having to reassure me that I look good. That I’ve tried so hard to get back to pre-baby body. But I don’t have the time to work that hard for abs. How do they do it?! 

Comparison is everywhere and it’s hard not to look. I can’t help but look. But I have to try and remember that what I’m doing is great. It doesn’t matter about what everyone else is doing. 

“The world needs you”. My little man is my world . And I know for a fact that he needs me. And I’ll always be there. Whatever time of day. Whatever shape or size. Wherever we are. 

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Day Twenty Two

amy blog 22

Day Twenty Two.

“Realise that it’s OK to ask for help when you need it. It doesn’t mean that you’ve failed. It doesn’t make you weak. You don’t have to be or do it all”.

I have to admit that I do struggle to ask for help. I feel embarrassed. I feel like I should be the wonder mum 24 hours a day. And it does take it out of me. There is only so much I can take before I crack.

I’ve previously written about being strong enough to say no. This is something that I have tried to work on. But it’s hard. I want to be able to be that wonder mum. Wake up at the crack of dawn every morning and be as though I’ve had 12 hours sleep. It’s tough. Babies are hard work!

My little man is six months old now and requires a lot of attention. A lot. Sometimes I feel as though I bore him as it’s only me and him. But how do I know? Why would I bore him? I’m one of his favourite people right? I sing his favourite songs , I dance with him, we play games, we read books. All repeated about 100 times a day. How can that not be fun?!

I’m always going to feel tense when asking for help. Because, I mean, why can’t I do it? Why am I having to ask for help? I can’t stop all these little niggles. But I must learn. I am allowed to ask. It’s OK to ask.

We’re a team at home. And in all honesty, I do fight over doing everything for the baby. But I think it’s because I am used to spending all of this time with him. It just happens.

“No. I’ll do it.”

“No. I’ll take him.”

“No. I’ll feed him.”

Etc etc .

I need to start being a strong team player. It’s not just me and the little man. My partner is here too. I should use him. We should work together.

But like everything, it all gets on top of me and I struggle. And this is where I should ask for help. To not push myself. To take five minutes and just sit down. Because it is OK.

Without any help, I will end up with a bald head living under a rock. And that is not ideal. I need to start being brave. To be confident in others.

It puts a lot of strain on life. My life.

I need my partner. I need his help more than anything in the world. I need his help with the baby. I need his help with how I feel. I need him. He is an amazing man. An amazing dad. I don’t think I would have made it this far without his love and support.

Having a baby changes quite a few things in life. And some things are difficult to bring back to how they used to be. However hard I try to get them back. It’s not easy. And it’s not fun.

It’s tiring, it’s stressful and it’s depressing.

It’s such a horrible cycle of emotions that need to change to happy and positive ones.

Spending the day with my little man is the most rewarding thing in the world. I love him so much that I swear my heart would actually burst. He is the most gorgeous, cheeky little thing I have ever seen.

Spending the day with my partner has an array of emotion. I love him so much but I feel I fight to take my baby . Because I am used to the time that I have with him. And I don’t let him help me and I really need him to. It’s so confusing, I don’t know how my brain doesn’t explode. But, it is all my fault why I am like this. I am stubborn. I am so stubborn. I need to let him help me. Because I need him to, and I want him to. We’re a team. I need to let him in.

amy blog 22..

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Day Twenty One

Day Twenty One.

“Do something today to make your living space a little more sacred to you. Carve out a special place for yourself. Decorate in ways that make you happy”.

There is no space in my home to make more sacred to me. Every bit of space in every room has baby in it. Toys, clothes, toys, pushchair, toys, bathtime bits, toys, changing mats, bags filled with toys. There is no space for me. My things are covered with baby things. Even my clothes that are in the wash, are over powered by baby clothes. Even when I’m having a wee, I’m staring at a baby bath with a plastic, orange fish sat on it. He has so much stuff.

A special place for myself is the time I have with my friends. Because I need them. And when I am with them, they make me happy.

I never really realised how important my friends are until I realised I need them more than anything. A text, a phone call, meeting up for lunch means absolutely everything to me. Everything.

Having depression is a difficult thing to think about. I still don’t believe I can actually , really have it. It’s a time where everything hurts. My brain hurts. My body hurts. My emotions hurt. Anything can trigger the hurt. And it’s difficult to talk about. It’s embarrassing to talk about. I don’t want to talk about it. Ever. Because does anyone really want to hear about my sad life? How I spent all morning staring out the window while baby slept? How I made three cups of tea and forgetting to drink any of them, and then running out of milk to actually make another? But, my girls do. They want to know.  And I never really understood that I could actually be happy again until I spend time with them. To forget about those three cups of tea. To forget about the carpet that is covered in my hair, because being sad basically makes all my hair fall out. To forget that I haven’t showered in two days.

But to remember the good things. To remember that I am still me. To remember that I am human and I have feelings that I can share. To remember that even though I now come with a baby, that is OK, they want to see him too. He’s a part of our group now and they love that. I love that.

I went to a BBQ at the weekend to one of my closet friend’s house and it was a lovely afternoon. The little man and I got to spend the whole afternoon with the team and it was just great. Feelings of hurt vanished. Feelings of sad vanished. They are an amazing bunch of people and I am so grateful to have such wonderful people in my life. I don’t think they realise how important they are to me. How much their friendship means to me. How much they heal me.

I am always anxious about my depression. Anxious that it’ll come up in conversation, leading me back into my dark place, anxious that i’m being judged. But they don’t judge. They don’t delve too deep. They don’t push. We talk about normal things, holidays, work, relationships, food. I have never felt so much appreciation for a group of people.

And I think that’s what it comes down to. They make me feel safe. They make me feel human. They make me feel happy. And I couldn’t be more thankful for it.

I wish I could tell them that the special place I’d carve out for them, would be in my heart. Cheesy as it is, but I need them so much and they are there for me. They’re amazing.

Day 21

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What is my dilemma?

My sister sent me this and it’s brilliant.

I think that it is a really good source to use when I have had, or am having a particularly tough day. Even though it is pretty self explanatory, I don’t have any sense when I’m stressing out. So going to this really helps me out.

What is my dilemma?!

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Day Twenty

Day Twenty.

“Stop apologizing for who you are and the things that aren’t your fault. Embrace who you are. Love who you are. No need for apologies”.

I say sorry all the time. All the time. My partner tells me off when I apologise. But I can’t help it. I feel like I have done something wrong on a daily basis. I apologise when he comes home and I haven’t washed up. Because that is my fault. I apologise when I haven’t hoovered. Because that is my fault. I apologise when I haven’t washed his work clothes. Because that is my fault.

I am at home all day. I have tried to put some sort of routine in to place with my little one, and the majority of the time it works. I know I have about 45 minutes in the morning to give the kitchen a clean, do the washing up, stock up on bottles ready for the rest of the day and put a wash on. I know I have an hour at lunchtime so I hang washing up, I tidy the living room, sometimes I remember to have lunch. I know I have an hour at 4pm so I watch Tipping Point. By then I have no energy left. I just want to sit down and be human.

Other days, the routine goes out the window. And in all honesty that just stresses me out. And I worry. If we have a day date, or go to a baby group, or visit family, I 100% have a full blown anxiety attack in the morning because I know I won’t get things done. So obviously, I need to apologise about it. I believe that this is my job. I believe that because I am at home, I need to do housework. No one has told me that I have to, I  just feel that I have to. I need to not only look after the baby, but I need to look after the house. And I feel awful when I haven’t done something.

I apologise when I don’t feel well. I apologise when I’m tired. I apologise if I go out. I apologise if I stay in.

I think with my anxiety, I do worry. I worry about everything. And since having a baby, I swear it is 10 times worse. I can’t help it. I can’t control it. I want to be superwoman and be able to do everything in a minute. But I cant. And I punish myself for it.

I have to remind myself that my little man is my priority and he will always come first. If there is a pile of towels in the laundry basket that have been there for a decade, that can wait. If there are two plates to wash up, that can wait. If I haven’t hung up any clean washing and my partner has to dive in to find socks, I don’t need to apologise, at least they’re clean. I shouldn’t have to apologise about anything if I have spent my day with my boy, making him happy.

I am going to find it hard to stop apologising because that is my anxiety creeping out. I’m a worrier. Always have been, and always will. But that is OK.

I love spending the day with my boy. I love watching him grow, watching him learn, watching him laugh. And that’s all that matters, right? There’s no need to apologise about that.