My distorted sense of reality

My emotional state was starting to crumble again and I was finding it hard to see the positives in life. I felt really overwhelmed by my life and children and focused on all the negative things in my life at the time, which really weren't even a truth, but they were my reality. My husband tried all sorts of things to try and get me to focus on what was great in my life, and I tried doing this, but I would always end up feeling unhappy. I started to feel like I didnt belong here, that everyone around me would be better off if I wasnt here. I was starting to tip over the edge.

I felt like the world was out to get me, but I couldnt understand why. I was thinking all the time, why me, why is this happening to me, why do I feel like crap, why is my life so miserable when everyone around me is happy. Why are my children so needy, why cant I give them what they want? Why can't everyone just leave me alone!

Recovery from MRSA

It wasnt until I got back home that it really sunk in how lucky I had been. If the infection had gotten into my blood stream, I could have died.

While at home I was still on antibiotics for another week (tablets) and had to check in with the doctor at infectious diseases. I found that I was quite weak and I was having trouble feeding my daughter again. On a couple of occasions I had nearly fainted and realised that I still had to take things easy. Thankfully my mum was still staying with us and she was able to help out. I did end up in emergency one night because I was feeling really ill. It turned out that I was quite dehydrated and put on drip to get my fluids up and then I was fine. It probably took another few weeks to fully recover from the infection.

Over this period, my daughter had gotten rather attached to the bottle and it was difficult to re-establish breastfeeding. At about 12 weeks, I gave up and put her on formula full-time. I feel like I didn't really have a choice, I didn't have the energy to keep trying and she was much more settled on the bottle than the boob anyway. I guess it just wasn't meant to be.

MRSA (Golden Staph) Infection

The chiropractor diagnosed our daughter has having back and neck issues, as with our son and after taking her on a regular basis for the first few weeks, she did settle down somewhat and I was able to enjoy her. She was feeding well and I was enjoying breastfeeding her, unlike with my son. She was a very happy little baby and starting smiling at around 6 weeks, she was a real delight. I was up feeding twice during the night, so was quite tired, but overall coping quite well. I had stopped seeing the counsellor, but was still seeing the clinical psych and having hypnotherapy on a somewhat regular basis (ie. fortnightly).

When our daughter was around 7 weeks old, I stepped out of the shower one night and passed a blood clot on the floor (sorry to gross you out....). I thought this a bit odd, but had been feeling fine overall, so I rang the hospital where I gave birth and mentioned what had happened. They suggested I come in, so I packed up the kids and headed to the hospital that day. They booked me in for an internal ultrasound for the next week and took some blood.

At the ultrasound, I had both kids with me, so my son just sat next to me while I had the ultrasound and a nurse had my daughter as she started to squawk a bit in the capsule. It took about 15 minutes and I was told nothing, but to make another appointment with the doctor, which I did. They didnt tell me if they had found anything.

At the appointment with the doctor, I was told really confusing information. They kind of told me that I had an infection and they needed to treat this, but they weren't sure what with, then they said that I had to have a DNC (which is basically my uterus scraped out) as they thought that there might be something leftover from the birth in there, but they weren't really sure of that either, but I needed this to happen ASAP, like the next day. I had to start taking medication that afternoon, but the medication wasn't ready, so I had to go home and then come back to pick this up (yay....just what I need with 2 kids). I made arrangements with my husband so that he could take the following day off as I needed to have this DNC which was just for the day, so he could look after the kids. I was confused about the medication and the effects this may have on my daughter due to breastfeeding, but I has told that it was safe, which is why they were having trouble finding the right one to give me to start with.

So the following day my husband and kids took me into the hospital and dropped me off for the surgery (DNC). When I woke up after the surgery, I was in recovery and I could hear nurses talking and I figured it was about me and I started thinking, what the hell happened, did I have a hysterectomy or something. I was told nothing and wheeled into my room, where I found my husband and kids waiting. When I arrived in the room, I looked at my husband and said - Do you know what happened, did I have a hysterectomy? He said, didnt they tell you and I said, no what the hell happened. He then told me that I had a MRSA infection in my uterus or golden staph infection and it had nearly eaten a hole through my uterus and while they were scrapping out birth remnants, they put a hole in my uterus, so they had to go through my bellybutton to fix the hole. I was shocked, but kind of relieved that it wasnt a hysterectomy, but that did explain why I felt like a train wreck, I couldnt really move, couldnt walk, I was in quite a bit of pain. My husband also mentioned that I was going to be in hospital for about 5 days on intravenous drugs, they just werent quite sure what at this stage.

Our poor daughter was screaming by this stage because she was soooo hungry. My husband had asked the nurses to get her a bottle so she could have something to eat. I couldnt do anything, I had no idea what was happening. Finally a bottle came and my husband fed her. Reality was starting to sink in and I was thinking, how am I going to feed her, I can hardly move, I cant have her in here with me, I was starting to feel quite devastated and started crying. My husband took the kids home and I was left in the hospital not really knowing what was happening. I had several doctors come and see me and try to explain what had happened and more importantly what was going to happen. I broke down on several occasions as the drugs they were giving me were the most potent of antibiotics you can get as MRSA infection is hard to kill. I wanted to breastfeed my daughter, but couldnt. Eventually, I had a doctor from infectious diseases come and see me and explain what MRSA is and about the antibiotics. Basically I was told that they were probably safe for my baby, but if I had a choice, I probably shouldnt feed her. Now, I was devastated.

I rang my mum in tears and asked her to fly over and help my husband out while I was in hospital. This she did and jumped on a plane and came over the next day. My husband had to organise bottles and formula for our daughter and take some time off work to sort things out. I was left in a sterile quarantine room on intravenous anti-biotics. The nurses that came into my room were wearing gowns and masks. I felt very sad and alone. I wanted to keep feeding my daughter after this was all over, so I pumped my milk every 4 hours and threw it out. I now felt like a cow, both boobs hanging out on a pump, yay.....could my life get any better!!! My milk supply slowly reduced over the 5 - 7 days I was in hospital and it was heartbreaking to pump about 100 - 180ml on each side and then throw it down the sink.

I passed my days watching movies and reading books. My family came to see me every day which was great, but exhausting at the same time, I couldnt hold my daughter because of the pain and our son just got bored, so their stay was generally fairly short.

My mum stayed with us for a couple of weeks and was still at home to help out when I came out of hospital after about a week.

Birth of our second child

At about 36 weeks pregnant I was ready for the baby to come out. At each checkup, I prayed that I would have high blood pressure or something that they could induce the baby. I was sick of waiting, I had heaps of fluid retention, something I never had with my first, but it was always the same, everything is fine, go home. I was still in la la land about having another baby, I was really looking forward to going to the hospital (not actually having the baby!) but being able to lie down and have a rest for a few days, have someone else cook my meals and look after me for a change!

At 38 weeks, I asked a friend of mine who practices chinese medicine to do some acupuncture on me to help get things moving. Unfortunately, the only thing moving was the fluid, she couldnt believe that there was fluid leaking from my feet where she took the needles out. I think I had put on about 20kg and figured I was going to need some serious help to get back into shape once I had this baby.

In the end I had to wait the full 40 weeks; our daughter was born exactly on her due date. Thankfully, I had a great birth (as far as births go...), I won't go into the gory details, but we were over the moon. A son and now a daughter, awesome, she was just beautiful. We didn't find out the sex of either of our children. I needed some sort of surprise and it didnt matter to me either way.

Both of my children were born in a public hospital, so I was in a shared room, even though I had asked for a private one. I guess thats the chance you take, it was a twin room. Our daughter was born around 3am, so it was early morning when we got to our room, so not much chance of sleep. I had forgotten how noisy hospitals were and I had been delusional about having a rest with a newborn. My daughter took to breastfeeding quite well, so this was a great relief, I figured that at least she was feeding well, that was a start as my milk had come in really early (compared to the first time around). Unfortunately, she didnt settle well and just when I had gotten her to sleep in the crib, most times the other baby would start crying and wake her up, so it became a bit of a no win situation. I either ended up pacing the hallway with my daughter or having her in my bed with me, which was just awkward and I got no rest this way. I also found the midwives to be not that helpful this time around. I don't know whether it was because this was my second child or they didnt have the time. By the second day, I had had enough. I wanted to go home and more importantly, I wanted to get my daughter to a chiropractor ASAP. I was sick of pacing the hallways all night and not getting any help. On the second night, I had a janitor come up to me and offer to take my daughter to try and calm her as I had been trying for over an hour, with no effect, even though they are not allowed to do this. I was desperate and really didnt care at the time, who took my daughter. I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. In the end I found a midwife in the office and asked if I could check myself out, I think it was 5am and she arranged the paperwork so I could go home first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, no-one helped me with my daughter, I was literally on my own. I figured I might as well go home and get some help from my parents who were staying with us.

I checked out of hospital on that morning (day 3) and got an appointment for my daughter with my chiropractor that afternoon, she was just 2 days old.

Reaching out for help...

You may have guessed, I'm not the type of person that asks for help. I generally struggle through until I can find a solution myself. I figure its my problem, I should be able to solve it. I guess that was OK when it was just me as I was the only one hurting, but now I have a family and they are being hurt because of me and that's not fair. So I go and see my GP and tell him that I'm not coping and feel like I just want to walk away from my life and that I have had thoughts of suicide, but nothing really concrete, just a fleeting thought that my life would be so much easier if I wasn't in it. This starts a ball rolling and a week or so after my GP visit, I have a social worker come to my house to assess me for depression. I am asked a heap of questions and she watches me interact with my son for a couple of hours. From our discussions, I don't think she thinks I have depression, but that I am quite overwhelmed with everything going on at the moment and she suggests that I get some help with my son and his separation anxiety, which I agree to do. She will write a recommendation to this effect.

A few weeks later I have an appointment to see a clinical psych for me and my son. I am now about 3 or 4 months pregnant or somewhere around there. I'm generally looking forward to talking to someone about my son and how to handle his behaviour and get some advice. After talking to the clinical psych, I didn't really feel like I had any answers. We talked about what was happening in my life at the time and the difficulties I was facing with my son, but I was not provided with any specific help per se about how to handle his behaviour right now. I felt a little deflated, but agreed to continue the sessions on a weekly basis. The psych said that I would work out the best way to deal with my son and we could discuss this at our weekly sessions. I figured I had no-where else to go at the time, so I may as well stick with it.

I also knew that I had to find some help for myself, because I could feel myself sinking. My moods were starting to get out of control and my relationship with my husband was becoming quite strained. I decided to seek help by seeing a counsellor, at this stage I was about 7 months pregnant, so I started a 12 week program where I spoke with a counsellor once a week. We worked on cognitive behaviour to help me deal with my external environment. I was struggling big time living in our new house and in the new area, which I hated on a daily basis and lashed out at my family as my way of coping, which I knew was not healthy for any of us. I found that the counselling helped as it opened my eyes up to a new way of looking at things, but I still found myself struggling when I came back to my reality, my house, my life and my misery.

I decided to try hypnotherapy as this had worked for me in the past, so I figured it might help this time around as my counsellor and clinical psych were a little concerned for how I was going to look after a newborn in a few months in my current state, which wasn't great. I was still in denial and figured I would handle things when they came along. I was also still in fantasy land and dreamed of holding my newborn and nursing and rocking them and then watching them sleep, yadda yadda yadda. I wasn't thinking of the reality side of things, no sleep, constant screaming, juggling two kids, etc.. etc... I was still in la la land. I was about 8 months pregnant when I started hypnotherapy sessions. So I was now seeing a counsellor, clinical psych and a hypno guy on a regular basis. My weeks were very busy, but it helped past the time, knowing I had somewhere to go and something to do. It helped take my mind off my miserable life (as I knew it) and get me out of the house I hated.

Moving house - my emotional breakdown

Our son was not quite 2 and I was about 8 weeks pregnant and suffering from morning sickness when we decided to sell our house and move. We looked around for awhile looking for somewhere quiet and settled on a nice house in a different suburb but still close to where we were in a nice quiet cul-de-sac. We owned a dog at that time and went for a walk around the house and streets with our dog to find any noisy dogs, there weren't any, so we bought the house and I had lovely visions and expectations of moving to a nice quiet house.

Sadly, this was not my reality. The day we moved in with the help of our friends a dog right next door barked its head off at us and didnt stop. I was starting to loose it already, on our first night. Over the next few months, I began to feel more and more despair. I couldnt walk around my house, because the next door neighbours dog would start barking, which would wake my son during his day sleep. I felt like I was walking on eggshells in my own house, it was horrible. I told my husband I hated the house every day and wanted to move. After a couple of months, we had been out and came home in the afternoon to find a strange noise throughout the house, it was our neighbours pool pump which sat on our fence line right next to our house and reverberated throughout the house. I confronted our neighbour about the dog and pool pump and other issues I had and thankfully, they were able to help out to an extent, but in the end our neighbour stopped talking to me and claimed I was harassing them. I can understand this and I have apologised for my behaviour at the time. I was in such a bad place emotionally, I was lashing out at whoever came across my path.

Even though I hated the house and wanted to leave every single day, I knew this was not normal and that the thoughts I were having were not rational thoughts, I just couldnt stop them, although I tried every single day, but it was exhausting work and my family was suffering because of it. I was short tempered with my son and just generally angry most of the time. Most nights I would burst into tears once I had put my son to bed and just cry that I wanted it all to go away and that I couldnt handle it anymore. My husband didnt know what to do and I didnt know how to help him or myself. I pretty much had an emotional meltdown or nervous breakdown and knew I had to get some help.

Being a stay at home mum

I enjoyed being at home with my son full-time. We were involved in all sorts of playgroups and mothers group and got out and about quite a bit, so we were able to have a lot of fun. I was still however, struggling with the loss of identity that came with becoming a mother and read many many books dealing with becoming a mother, the guilt and grief that comes with it. The books helped to an extent as they at least confirmed that my feelings were somewhat normal and the fact that I wanted to throw my child out the window some days was also quite normal, apparently!

During my checks with the health nurse I was basically on boarder line for post-natal depression, but I always denied that I had depression and put it more down to just being overwhelmed at that time and struggling with other things in my life. My son was always quite clingy and this didnt really change as he got older, he was always under my feet and wanted to be held and cuddled. Somedays I had the energy to deal with this and other days not so much. He was never one to go and explore things by himself and I had to be with him to do pretty much most things. I spent most of my days playing with him on the floor. I wasn't able to get up and move around the house and do things without him becoming upset and screaming or crying. So we either played together or I tried to do things around the house with him either screaming holding onto my leg and being dragged around the house or me carrying him and trying to do the house stuff with one hand. Needless to say, I was exhausted physically and becoming exhausted emotionally. I couldnt understand why my son couldnt play on his own without me and then when he needed some comfort, come and have a cuddle and then go back to playing. I knew he had some form of separation anxiety and figured he would grow out of it, I just hoped it would be sooner than later. I was growing very tired of it and starting to get frustrated and angry at him because of it. I didnt get a break. I couldnt see at the time that I needed to do things for myself so that I could be a better mum to him. I just kept thinking that he needed me and I needed to be there for him constantly as he would get so upset whenever I wasnt in the room. My husband could see how hard this was for me and tried desperately to get me to leave him with friends and go do things for myself, but I just refused. The pain of knowing that my son was upset and knowing that I could fix it by being there was too much. So I was always there. I remember having an appointment and having to leave my son with friends and he screamed or cried the whole time I was gone, it was just too much for me to handle at the time and I couldnt. I was becoming quite fragile, emotionally.

As my son got older, things improved and I was able to have some freedoms back in my life. I enjoyed this, but started struggling with my external environment more and more. We had lived in a fairly quiet neighbourhood, we lived on a busy road, so we got lots of traffic noise, but that probably drowned out most of the other noises and I had got use to all the traffic. Thankfully, my son was a good sleeper at night and maybe this was why; he had to get use to the traffic as well. When our son was about 12 months, new neighbours moved in. They were very social people and spent most nights out their back drinking, smoking and talking. Unfortunately their backyard was very close to our bedroom window and we got all the noise. I couldnt sleep and was getting very frustrated and tired. This happened most nights of the week and it was driving me insane. I couldnt open my house up during the day because it would get filled with smoke and I couldnt sleep at night because of the noise. They also had a small dog which would bark off and on during the day and night. I was starting to loose control. A couple of nights a week I would go out in my backyard and ask them to keep the noise down. Sometimes I was met with abuse, other times they would quieten down. A lot of times I would sleep in the loungeroom or spare room to try and sleep, with earplugs. Thankfully, my son slept through it all most of the time.

I had been to my GP a couple of times and mentioned that I was having a hard time dealing with things. We had spoken about anti-depressants, but I had told him that I didnt think this was the answer for me and I had declined to take them as I wanted more children. When our son was just about 2, we moved house and I was about 8 weeks pregnant with our second child. We looked around for somewhere quiet and did our research (or so we thought...)

My attempt to go back to work

As I had originally planned to go back to work when my son was 6 months old, I put him in daycare and returned to work for 2 days per week. Leaving my son with strangers was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. The first day I left him, I cried the whole way to work.

Within the first couple of weeks of returning to work, my son got sick (he had never really been sick previously) with a cold, but it went straight to his chest and he ended up with bronchiolitis and he spent 3 days in hospital on oxygen. It was a very stressful time. I had just started work and then had to take time off to look after my son. It took another couple of weeks for him to be able to go back to daycare and for me to go back to work, however, he was quite sick off and on over the next few months and was again back in hospital with bronchiolitis and on oxygen. At least the second time around, we knew what was happening, so it was a little easier, if nothing else. After the second time however, my husband and I made the decision for me to stay at home with our son and get through Winter, so I took him out of daycare and kept him at home with me. Thankfully, my work was really understanding and they wished me the best when I told them that I had made the decision to quit work. I hated the thought of stuffing them around as I had felt like I had been doing this since I started back.

So, all of a sudden I was a stay at home mum! I say this because previously I had always planned on going back to work, so that defined who I was and what I knew. Now I didnt have this to fall back on and it felt a little scary.

Becoming a Mother for the first time

I was 32 when my husband and I decided to start a family. I had started to change my career path and was working part-time. I had been told previously that I may have trouble conceiving, so I figured that we would try for a year and see what happened. Well, we didn't need to try for a year as I feel pregnant after the first month. I had just started a new part-time job which I was loving and had to tell them the news that I would be leaving in 8 months, but I assured them that I wanted to return after 6 months and still work part-time. At least thats what I wanted at the time, so they were happy to keep this option open for me, which was great.

I had a pretty cruisy pregnancy as far as pregnancies go, I had a little bit of morning sickness for the first 14 weeks, then everything went really well from then on. Our son was born in September 2005 and it was the most amazing feeling I have ever felt (apart from the extreme pain...) to carry your child in you and then give birth and hold them in your arms for the very first time. Nothing matches this and any mum will know how this feels. It is the best feeling in the whole world if you ask me. Whenever anyone asks me to think of a happy thought, this is the first thought that comes to my mind, holding my firstborn in my arms for the very first time, its amazing.

My son, however, was not the textbook baby. He generally screamed constantly unless he was held, so in the hospital, I had to hold him most of the time. I tried breastfeeding, but I found this difficult to do, but tried to perservere as I knew this was the best for my baby. After 4 days in hospital, the midwives were not even sure how I was going to cope at home as my son seemed quite distressed most of the time and I was functioning on very little sleep. My idea of motherhood was not quite this, but I figured my son would settle down once at home. Unfortunately this didnt happen and I would end up carrying him pretty much constantly. In the first few weeks, I took him to various pediatricians to see if they could find a solution. He was quite happy to be carried, but I couldnt put him in a pram of lie him on his back, he would just scream. Needless to say he was sleeping in his cot on his stomach as thats the only way I could get him to sleep off me. After seeing a couple of different pediatricians, he was diagnosed with silent reflux and given some medication. I was not happy about medicating my baby, but I was desperate for something. The hardest thing for me was knowing that my baby wasnt happy and he wasnt, he would just scream and I couldnt do a damn thing sometimes to stop it. It was heartbreaking and it was tearing me up inside. How could I not know how to settle my own child!

I remember one day, when my son was about 2 months old and a friend happen to come around to the house. I was on the phone to my husband crying while my son lay on my lap screaming. My husband couldnt hear a word I was saying because I was crying and my baby was screaming, so when my friend walked in the back door, I literally threw my son at him and told him to take him away. My friend walked into another room with my son and I settled myself down on the phone with my husband. After I had settled down, I walked into my lounge room to find my son wrapped in my friends arms fast asleep. I didnt know whether to feel glad or mad as hell. I think I just fell on the couch and told my friend he couldnt move for the next hour.

It wasnt until our son was about 4 months old that a friend suggested I take him to see a chiropractor. By this stage I was exhausted and very disillusioned about motherhood. This is NOT what I had signed up for. I was ready to try anything. The medication for reflux didnt really do anything to alleviate his crying, so I had chosen to take him off it, rather than put chemicals in his body for the sake of it. I still couldnt take him for a walk in the pram as he would just scream most of the way and I would be a complete mess by the end of it, so I figured what the hell, I'll try a chiropractor. I managed to find one that dealt with children in my area, so I made an appointment. It wasnt until I got there that I found out other mums had similar issues with their children and they were getting great results.

I probably started seeing results after the first few adjustments. My son was able to lie on his back without screaming and I could put him in the pram and go for walks after the first week. My chiropractor mentioned that his neck and back were all out and this would be causing him a lot of pain and he had a very tight stomach which he massaged to move things through. I felt sad that my son was in pain and it had taken me 4 months to find him some relief. Over the next few months I started seeing my son getting happier. He could now play on the floor and smile and be more settled. I could enjoy him more, but I was still having trouble breastfeeding and topping up with bottles, so at about 5 months I ditched the breastfeeding altogether and put him on formula, but not without a fight. I had exhausted all avenues to breastfeed. I went to the breastfeeding clinic and was monitored using ultrasound while trying to breastfeed my son to see how much he was getting and how he was attaching to the breast. Imagine being hooked up to 3 machines and having about 4 people standing around and under you with an ultrasound device under your breast while trying to breastfeed, yeah, fun....NOT. They suggested that I test exactly how much he gets in a day by monitoring, which involved, over 48 hours, for every feed weighing him before and after each feed on each breast and taking a sample of milk for each feed on each breast and then totalling the weights for before and after to see how much he had taken. It was a nightmare, trying to do this twice during the night as he would normally fall asleep after the feed, but instead, I had to put in on a set of cold scales to weigh him. It was crazy and in the end it showed that he took in about 700 mls per day which was sufficient. When he was on the bottle full-time, he was drinking over 1000mls and was thriving. So although 700 mls might be sufficient, for him, it wasnt enough, so he was often crying from hunger as well. So much to learn with very little help. Thankfully, I had worked most of it out by about 8 months and he had settled down was doing really well. I however, was a wreck. The stress and exhaustion of it all was taking its toll.

My husband and I have no family around us, so we were on our own and I was on my own during the day while my husband worked. I was struggling, but hiding it well.

The purpose of this blog

I wish to write about my life because of a few reasons. I guess I'm a bit biased, but I think my story is pretty interesting and becoming a mother is a very crazy time in a persons life, at least it can be and was for me. I had a difficult time with both of my children for various reasons which you will find out if you read my blog and being able to overcome these challenges and live through depression while trying to raise 2 children and run a household is a huge achievement for me.

An even bigger achievement, I believe for me has been to finally find my purpose in life and to finally be happy. I dont believe that we are put on this earth to live a miserable life and then grow old and die a miserable death, which many of us do. There has to be more to life than this and there is. I wish to use this blog to explore this and the truth about reality. I hope you enjoy the journey, if you wish to take it....