'Hardest and loneliest year of my life': Channel 9 reporter opens up about battle with postnatal depression
By Jessica Millward|
My son turns two this week and when I mention this to people their reaction isn't altogether surprising. Or incorrect for that matter. "Oh here come the terrible twos", "lots of tantrums coming your way", "you're about to have your hands full".
But for me, this will be anything but the terrible twos.
Stay with me here - I'm about to tell you why (and it's not because I'm blissfully ignorant).
I'm so excited for my little man's birthday this year. I'm excited about what's to come, about what I'm going to watch him learn this year, about his new words and phrases and interests. It's a stark difference to last year. That first year is "the hardest year of your life" people will tell you, usually followed up by "but it's also the happiest".
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It wasn't for me. It was just the hardest full stop. The hardest, most overwhelming and loneliest year of my life. Not because I was lonely; I have a wonderful village. But I felt it and whenever anyone was around I'd paint on my smile and pretend I was deep in the baby bubble loving every single day. Because that's how I was meant to feel right?
Someone close to me said; "Having kids is like watching your heart grow legs and walk around". I nodded. But I didn't feel like that, most of the time I didn't feel anything.
I told myself when I returned to work from maternity leave it would all be ok. I'd feel like myself again, find my groove as a working mum and all would be fine. It wasn't. The juggle just made it harder to conceal the fact I was mourning.
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Mourning Jess when she wasn't a mum and mourning the life I had. As I type that I cringe at how awfully selfish it sounds. It is very selfish but I now know it's necessary. You can picture your life and how much it'll change once you're a parent but nothing can actually prepare you. But because you longed for the baby you tell yourself that if you're anything but elated, every single day then you're a horrible person.
I tried to find joy in things that used to make me smile but all I really wanted to was close my eyes and sleep; it was the only time my brain switched off. One foot was put in front of the other.
It wasn't bad all the time; I had many moments with my baby boy that made my heart swell. But the only way I can describe it was like being in a dust storm. I couldn't breathe properly, I couldn't see ahead, I kept getting knocked off my feet.
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As it turned out the smile I had painted on wasn't fooling one person. My person. The person who knows me best. And one day my husband had a very frank discussion with me. The only line I remember is "I miss my Jess". I thought I was hiding the fact that I felt numb.
Turns out I wasn't. That prompted me to do what I needed to do, to do what I'd tell my sister or my best friend to do. I got help. Among other things I saw a therapist, two actually. I worked through what I now know was postnatal depression.
Even now, many months on from coming to terms with it, I struggle to type those words. Because I worry about how perceptions of me will change. Will people start treating me like a fragile vase that's about to break? The thing with that is - I've already been broken but I'm back together now.
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Recently, a national survey was conducted asking Australians about their attitudes to mental health, more specifically the way they treat those who have conditions.
Some 52 per cent of respondents didn't want someone dealing with depression to marry into their family. While almost one third didn't want to work closely with someone with depression. And that is why I worry.
But the thing is I feel stronger than the old Jess. I've been to the bottom on the pool where it's very dark. And while I can't pinpoint a moment where it changed (likely because there wasn't one) something dawned on me the past few weeks.
I'm happy. Life is more chaotic than it's ever been. I'm still sleep-deprived. Our energetic boy tests my patience just like a two-year-old is wired to do but finally I am enjoying myself. And for a long time I really wasn't.
Of course, this is all deeply personal. It's not something that I openly speak about so to share my experiences so publicly is disconcerting.
But I feel very passionately about telling it like it is. And if we're going to change those stigmas around mental illness or just mental health in general, we need to talk about this stuff. So here I am talking about it.
And here I am saying cheers.
Cheers to two.
Cheers to you my beautiful boy.
You're my heart on legs.
Anyone having trouble coping post-childbirth can visit panda.org.au or call the PANDA Helpline on 1300 726 306 Mon to Fri, 9am - 7.30pm AEST/AEDT. You can also contact the Gidget Foundation on 1300 851 758 or Lifeline on 13 11 14 or visit lifeline.org.au
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