Motherhood, Madness, God and Me

Mindfulness is not new to me. When I was in 6th form and was suffering huge family upheaval (3 house moves in years, new baby, new step dad, new siblings, contact issues with birth father, mother with severe postnatal depression and step dad going (successfully) back to rehab) the school nurse was asked to help me with my anxiety levels. She talked me through what I later learned (10 years later) was a mindfulness body scan. I was reminded of this whenever I met an anxious mother and would talk them through this meditation. One day, whilst myself working as a school nurse I came across the nurse who taught me this technique. She didn't remember me, and was now working in mental health. A mother praised how I had helped her with relaxation techniques in a meeting we were both attending. I admitted after the meeting that it was this lady who had taught me when I was 17 and anxious. I revisited relaxation during my first pregnancy. Hideous hyperemesis     consumed me...

In my meeting today, still looking for any positive, Susanna reassured me that I am still the good person I used to be. The good mother. We spoke about how I have everything I wanted. My dream of having children. How I loved them being babies. How I enjoyed them. How now I don't. I can't. We spoke about how I have written to my children. How I want them to remember me as a good, kind person and not who I am now. What I put in my letters, I said, was because I never want them to feel how I do. I spoke about how I try to "counsel" myself and say I am good enough, and good enough is fine, and my kids are fine and will grow up fine. I am sick and I can't do what I used to and that's OK. It's OK not to enjoy parenting. It's hard and kids are annoying at times. That's OK. But I don't believe it. It doesn't sound truth for me. Fake it till you make it. Parent yourself how you parented your babies. Say to yourself all those things you write ...

What will you remember? Will you remember story time. Cuddled up and funny voices. Will you remember sneaking into our bed and falling back to sleep. Will you remember singing songs when you were small. Doing all the actions? Will you remember me singing you to sleep whilst rubbing your back? Will you remember licking the bowl after baking. Dancing around the lounge. Will you remember walking home from school and talking about your day. Will you remember my smile at parents evenings, dance shows, the day you rode your bike? Will you remember being pushed high on the swings until you giggled? Will you remember nights when you were sick and we'd sleep on the sofa? Mummy holding you in hospital. Will you rather remember the times I shouted. The times I could do nothing but walk away. The times I joined in your chaos rather than calming it. Will you remember the times I missed. That I worked through your chicken pox. That I was in hospital for your 3rd operation? That you would wake...

This wasn't who I wanted to be. My only dream was to be a mother. When I finally was I wanted to be a better mother than I had. When my daughter was born I was that mum. Despite having postnatal depression, which looking back now was fairly minor, I played, I read books, breastfed. I was responsive. Even when she wouldn't settle I never felt angry. When she was a toddler I never shouted. I cried and I was anxious and tired but even when our son was born I was still patient and not at all shouty. Looking back I can pinpoint a change. It was a few months after going back to work from my 2nd maternity leave. I left the job I had been in for 5 years. We were a small and supportive team which had comprised of the same six people for 4 years. 5 women in their 40s and 22 year old me. Just weeks after returning I was persuaded (threatened my job was being phased out) to begin further study. It would result in the job I had wanted since my first year of nursing. It wasn't ideal t...

My girl is growing up. She is not as grown up as many of her friends. Fashion isn't something she cares about. She tries to join in about music. She can have very adult conversations 1 to 1 and if there's a baby around she's a lot more competent and capable than quite a few first time parents. Tonight we went to a concert with a group of girls from her class. These girls love her even though she's weird and grumpy, and whilst there are sometimes a few issues at school they seem pretty normal for 8 year old girls. Tonight I cried. I cried with joy that these girls wanted to include my girl. That they looked past the spinning and the ear defenders and kept encouraging her to join in. I cried that she was joining in and dancing with her friends. I cried with relief that she didn't physically hurt somebody when it got too much for her. I cried with sadness that she stands out. Whilst the other girls danced and danced, my girl stopped. She stood dead still and star...

Today was a good day. Swimming lessons at 9AM after a poor night's sleep shouldn't make for a good day but it did. My boy finally did something that looked like swimming rather than drowning! He swam under water beautifully for about 5m. He looked so impressed how well it had worked out. Weekends with school aged children often seem to be busy. Next was the under 8s football team. My daughter is under investigation for ASD, she's terrified when the ball comes near her but enjoys playing. They let her play. Even though tactically they should sub her they don't because they believe she deserves a chance. They even notice things I haven't, like she has poor planning and becomes confused when the team switches ends of the pitch. They arranged for the team to swap only at half way rather than every quarter. To have a situation where her difficulties are acknowledged but she is pushed to reach her potential is so refreshing for me. The afternoon ended up as a girlie tr...

I spend a lot of time talking about Madness, God and Me but less time on motherhood. As a little girl all I wanted to be was a mummy. I imagined having loads of children, I had names planned in my head and everything. Even before we were married I imagined life with a gorgeous toddler jumping in puddles. Many children for us is sadly not to be. My mental health being the main reason. We have 2 lovely children and I am grateful for that. They are funny. My son is polite and kind. He is an old head and enjoys conversations. He wants to be a teacher or an engineer. My daughter is a bundle of passion, feeling things deeply. She is an incredible artist. They are both resilient, coping well with me being in hospital. I worry I am not enough. I worry for their future mental health. Motherhood is the biggest area I doubt myself in. Tonight was a tough night. My son was messing around at bedtime. I was told I was too cross so I came away and cried. I am so far away from the mother I dreame...

Today I received a report, which despite quoting sections of three medical reports supporting my daughter having sensory processing difficulties (fact) and behaviours which may be indicative of autism, stated her behaviour was a result of "what she has witnessed in the home". The author also stated she has no evidence of this. I straight away messaged my go to friend for "slightly odd kid" discussions, a friend I met 7 years ago when our daughters were babies. This lady has a knack for fighting and honestly I don't know what I'd do without her when times are tough with my daughter. There is a lot of research and anecdotal evidence of girls masking their autism at school. Excellent chameleons they are able to copy their peers and behave the same. It is often not officially diagnosed until adolescence by which time they usually have other mental health difficulties due to lack of support. Pretending is tiring so once they get home the 'break out'. ...

Today was the best day. Today I returned to the capable main carer of two hot, hyper, tired kids. It was amazing. From 10-4 we ran around the farmyard looking for fairies, we painted pottery, we dealt with the inevitable tantrums, we picnicked,ice creamed and saw the circus show.I possibly spoilt them more than usual (the balloon animal and glitter tattoos would probably have been vetoed had I not spent a lot of the summer in hospital or being supervised). I'm me, I've reclaimed a bit of me. My two sweaty, dirty kids have had their mum back. They responded well to me being in charge again. Adequate boundary pushing, not too much though, and of course there were disagreements and stamping feet. I dealt with it, calmly, responsively and we all survived. Praise God for today, for my kids, for joy and for not letting me give up so I can still be here and be a mum!