I am a single mother, aged 44, of a baby boy born late January. My baby was very much longed-for and was conceived using IVF donor sperm. Since he was born, however, things have been awful. I feel no joy, just panic and terror. I moved from Paris, where I lived for 21 years, back to my native north -west of Ireland, in with my mum in order to get some support with the baby but I miss my freedom and my previous life more than I could ever express. The fact that I had my freedom for so long (as I said, I'm 44) is a big factor. I had a lovely life and could hop on a flight or go to the theatre at the drop of a hat; now I have to tell my mum when I go for a pee and ask her to mind the baby. I may across as dense- of course I realised having a baby would curtail my freedom but I never imagined how I'd feel about the lack of freedom. I thought I was ready for it, but it's actually hell. I can not believe that I have traded in my lovely life for this -and I feel devastated that something (a much-longed for status as mother) that I wanted so much is causing me so much pain.
I've moved back in with my mum in the small, grey, town where I grew up. I attend mother and baby groups and they are very well and good, the other mums are very friendly, but it doesn't help with complete and utter despair. Their babies are older than mine and still aren't sleeping through the night (at ten or eleven months old)- which is apparently normal- I'd read in books that a baby should be able to sleep through the nightvat six months, which I now know is codswallop. The other mothers all have partners and I think that helps. My mother was helping me at night with the baby but, very sleep-deprived, she had a car accident a month ago. Thankfully she is OK but the passenger in the other car said she took a pregnancy test before the accident and iit was positive; another test a few days after the accidnet was negative. My mother's car is a write-off so we're taking taxis everywhere. My mother had to make a statement to the police. She's never had so much as a parking ticket in her life.
My older sister (who has three children aged 8, 6 and 4) picked me up from a mother and baby group yesterday. I asked her when things get easier, she said "It doesn't get easier, Brenda! They grow up and start answering back. I got kicked in bed last night (two of her kids get into bed with her in the middle of the night). I love my children but if I had my time over again, I honestly don't think I'd have had them." To be fair to my sister, she knows I've been anxious but she doesn't know that every minute of every day has been absolute hell. Her words left me despairing. And as I went to post this thread, I saw a thread started by a mother of a two year-old who said her sons sleep has regressed and that hes throwing tantrums, and she was asking if things get better.
So here have I been counting down the days and weeks until my baby cries less, sleeps more, deperately Googling when I will get a bit more freedom or when I will feel this overwhelming love that makes it all worthwhile-but it seems that there is no end to this hell in sight.
I am in contact with mental health services in my local Trust. A psychiatrist in the local Trust perinatal mental health service has suggested anti-depressant called Mirtazapine which is compatible with breastfeeding but I was prescrived various anti- depressants many years ago and none had any effect. The psychiatrist knows that and is not at all forcing me to take them. Also, I couldn't co-sleep with the baby if I take an anti-depressant and co- sleeping is how I get some sleep at night. I have had sessions with a CBT therapist who says the way I am feeling is not unusual but that it does get better. Yet I read plenty of posts from parent of two and three year olds who are still going through hell, and then that comment from my sister yesterday that it doesnt get easier has augmented my despair.
All I know is that I can not go on like this.
My baby son is so beautiful but I have been researching if i can put him into care. It would break my heart, but I really do not think I could live for more months like this. I have been doing everything "right"- in contact with the local perinatal mental health services and seeing a counsellor- and I still don't see any hope.