In Britain, we tend to be a bit ‘stiff upper lip,’ and ‘stay strong’ mentality when in reality, this type of approach does you no good whatsoever. Yes, there are times when you need to be strong and hold it together, particularly in a crisis or during tough times. But afterwards, you need to make sure you have time to process it all and can deal with the fallout.
I’ve had to access therapy several times in my life and I truly believe I’m ten times better for it. I’m going to tell you when and how I accessed it and why, and it will hopefully give you something to relate to and remove some of the stigma.
Postnatal depression
The first time I needed therapy was after getting postnatal depression with my first child, Amy. I had no idea anything was wrong with her at the time, but having a baby hit me like a train crash and I never got over the baby blues. I felt like I would never catch up on sleep and that I wasn’t an instinctive mother. I was caring for her fine but I didn’t know what to ‘do’ with her. She was a difficult baby, cried a lot and didn’t sleep much.
I realise now that you don’t need to do anything in particular, love is enough. I felt desperate and was crying most days. After many times crying at my husband or down the phone to my Mum, I went to the GP and was prescribed anti-depressants. They also referred me for therapy and I had several visits from a health visitor.
The therapy itself I found difficult, I felt very vulnerable and exposed. The lady leading the counselling was an older very put together lady (in my eyes) and I felt like a failure. I felt under pressure to talk and after about three sessions I didn’t want to go back. I am an introvert at heart and I found myself storing things up to say to her. Thankfully the medication and the support from health visitors got me through it. Amy got easier to deal with and I moved on.
My child got diagnosed with a terminal condition
Says it all really, no need to explain! Amy later had developmental delay and then appeared to be going backwards in her development. After lots of investigating she was diagnosed with Tay Sachs disease, a fatal metabolic condition which would take her life just before she turned three. I don’t know how I coped but we had to. We tried for another baby (we had a 1 in 4 chance of the condition being passed on) and that baby had the condition too and we chose to terminate at 12 weeks. That’s the part that broke me. Up until then, I’d believed in Karma, that after all the bad luck we would have a healthy child. It skewed my beliefs permanently and I crashed. I had been offered counselling before but had turned it down. I then asked for it.
This time, the therapist was a lady who I respected academically. She was a ‘proper’ Doctor. The way she explained things practically and academically really helped me. She didn’t just expect me to talk, but she listened when I did. I was afraid all our eggs and sperm were tainted and we were being punished. She explained the theory behind Magical thinking and it totally made sense to me. I’ve always remembered her calm, practical advice. I had a few sessions with her and didn’t need any more. If you’d like to know more about my story with Amy, here’s the link to my eBook.
A mid-life crisis or PTSD?
The last time I needed therapy was three years after Amy died. I was pregnant with William when she died and went on to have Phoebe 18 months after William. I don’t think I gave myself time to process everything. If you’ve got small children or remember when you did, you know how full on it is. I was stressed. I was working as a Midwife 1 or 2 nights a week in a job I didn’t love anymore and when I wasn’t working I was a Mum.
Everything seemed so stressful and I often thought about running away, but then would feel guilty – hadn’t I got two healthy children that I’d always wanted? Of course I couldn’t leave them and I loved them so much. I was feeling stuck in my relationship too. We’d been through so much together – maybe it was the 7 year itch?
Without going into too much detail things came to a head and I decided to get some help. The children’s hospice where Amy died offered bereavement support and I took them up on it. It’s run by volunteer therapists for which I’m oh so grateful. This was my most positive and longest time in therapy. It was a man this time, whether that made any difference or not I don’t know.
He helped me talk through how I was feeling and process everything that had happened. I think that was 90% of the problem. I wanted another baby but couldn’t face the stress again and part of me wanted to start again with someone else who wasn’t a carrier, but I still loved my husband. My husband also had some therapy with him, which was strange! He only went a few times. He also had some exercises for me to do, which my practical mind enjoyed. We did go on to have another baby – Daniel!
Now, together with feeling more equipped to deal with life’s ups and downs, I still take anti-depressants and I know to ask for help if I need it. My life has stabilised, we have had all our children and fingers crossed it stays that way. There are more options available now, from online therapy to phone therapy and face to face. A lot of companies will offer free counselling. Thankfully mental health is now taken a lot more seriously. Click here to find out more about online therapy.
Disclosure: collaborative post
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