Breaking point??

I always wondered what breaking point felt like. It’s a strange one; because when you think about whether you’re at breaking point generally it means you’re feeling pretty low. But then you get back up; move on. Something else happens – and you think you’re there again. But then you get back up; and move on again. And life cycles through these downs and ups and downs and ups; constantly wondering where you’re at, and how do you get out of those cycles?

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My life is great – I’ve got 2 beautiful little babies; I have my dream job – I’ve shaped my entire life. But there has been a lot. I’ve lost 2 other babies. I’ve lost my Dad. I fought through tooth and nail to get my little girls. It was hard, Bloody hard. But each time, I’ve knocked down – and got back up. Trooped on through. Pushed on through. I know I can do it. – I do, do it. Every single day. I have battled anxiety and depression since I was about 13. I know I can do it. So why am I suddenly wondering ‘why’ I’m struggling so much – when I’ve struggled so much my whole life? Because my tiny baby adds her cleft, and her reflux, and her feeding – and what feels like every issue under the sun. My Dad looses his battle. I loose the 1 person I call during these shit times. And things just get trickier all over again and all at once. Then I feel like an idiot; because I CHOSE this life; I chose these babies. Things happen. My life isn’t “that bad” – it’s just a little wild right now. This is just a patch. And then a little while later – my brain clicks in; and tells me you chose this because being a Mum was your calling; and while it’s hard now – it won’t be forever. You are strong; you can do this. Don’t bother calling in for extra support; cancel that doctor appointment. You can do it. You’ve been doing it. And so I cancel the appointment, I chicken out. I soldier through all over again.

When Emelia-Michelle was a newborn; and it was a struggle. People told me it got better; and as the months passed I lost faith in that. She didn’t get better; she got worse and the next person who told me she will – I was gunna tell right where to shove it. Her newborn/infancy stages were ROUGH. I’m meaning rough rough. I was diagnosed with postnatal depression, anxiety and PTSD when she was around 6 months old. I thought I was fine; well I was fine. But then a friend asked me how I was doing one day; and I said yeah we are good. But she knew I wasn’t. My friend who lived 8 hours away at the time – knew what I was hiding more than I did. More than anyone around me at home did. I went to the doctor; got diagnosed with all these things – we discussed counselling, medications, and working on it. But then that doctor never processed the referral; then she left the practice. And I chickened out, never followed it up with another GP. And so I continued trooping through. Life WAS hard. But suddenly; she’s 4 in 2 weeks – and although it took surgeries; way too much medication going into her wee body; and a rough start to life – she is a thriving preschooler; who somewhere amongst life did “get better.” My trooping on; got us through. So now when I look at Evie-Paul; and feel stuck. I know it does get better. She too will suddenly be 4 in the blink of an eye; and I’ll forget all this and probably want another baby, and be right back here again. Which makes me question; when is breaking point? Will I get through this; like I have before. Am I just stuck in a longer than normal lasting “woe is me” point of the journey. Will I wake up tomorrow and just feel myself again?? Is this just hormones? Or sleep deprivation? Maybe I can continue trooping and just get on with it? How do I know when “breaking point” is near. If I got through it once before. I know I can do it all over again. Mental health is such a conundrum – how do you know, when you reach breaking point?? How do you know when enough trooping is enough… ?

When you cry your eyes out to your tiny babies cleft nurse. Because it’s just “too hard.” You have reached a point of parenthood – where you just don’t know what next. Everything you’ve done; they’ve just criticized because it’s wrong. The bouncer is wrong, the baby needs this done, that done, you’re feeding her wrong, everything is just wrong – and your parenting is just overshadowed by this new constant doubt. When you feel so frustrated at the mere thought of what next; because you just don’t know where it leads. Where you’re scared for your baby to wake – because you know she will scream endlessly all over again. When you’ve seen doctors, nurses, midwives, more nurses, more specialists. They ask if I have questions, how things are – and I tell them. No, no questions. I’m fine. With a smile on my face; we get through. But then I find out my tiny baby now isn’t hearing me, her ears are totally mute. My poor child now can’t hear, she can’t drink, she doesn’t soothe, She screams, non stop. My 3 year old notices my frustrations at her crying and asks me if I’m angry at Evie because I told Evie to please just stoooppp crying, my voice was angry – I was frustrated. I know it was. I just wanted my baby to stop screaming and she won’t.. I tell her no baby; I’m just really tired, I give her a cuddle. She makes me feel better. She suggests to give Evie a dummy, and without thinking – I grab the dummy and chuck it down on my bed, I don’t need the damn dummy I tell Emelia. She can’t even suck it. And she disappears out of the room. Wondering why her Mummy is tired, stressed out, and ‘angry’ – and that’s when you realise you’re there. You’re at breaking point. Because there is nothing more heartbreaking – then your 3 year old having more patience for your baby; than you do. That night; I put Evie into bed, left her to scream after 3 hours of me unable to soothe her, and climbed into bed with that 3 year old. I wish I knew where too next. Evie falls asleep, then I fall asleep.

Today – I booked an appointment with my GP. The earliest appointment I can get is 2 weeks away. I may chicken out and cancel it – but I’ve booked it for now. And when I cried my eyes out to the nurse; she said she will refer us to go stay at a place called Mothercraft where Mums and babies like mine go stay and get support, help, fix things. I start to tell her about my mental health with Emelia – but stop. I think she knows anyway. My brain freezes up; it tells me not to let the words out. Hopefully we can fix things. I don’t really know what next, or where too next. I don’t even know if I want medication or counselling – or what I want to achieve from all this. But maybe someone will make a rational decision for me. Maybe things can start to look upwards again.

Then on a side note. Dad; I really wish you were here to listen and talk me through all this. You have been the only person I’ve ever talked about this sort of stuff with – thoroughly. And now I can’t even call you. I miss you so much Dad. Sooo so so much.

Breaking point is a strange topic; Because I still don’t know if I’m there. I don’t know what it looks like. I just want my Dad back, my baby fixed and some sleep so I can feel a little more human again.

One thought on “Breaking point??

  1. L and D says:

    I can’t even begin to understand your journey with a cleft baby, it sounds do tough, add in all the extras. I hope you make it to your gp, thst is one of the hardest parts for me is the booking it, then i try to ignore it and feel i have yo go as it usessier than ringing again to cancel! But that’s me. I wonder if you could just hand them your phone with this on, or ask if you can email it to the gp. Sounds like writing this all out might clear your head a little bit? I enjoyed reading Emily Writes blogs when I was in the thick of it, made me feel less alone in a shitstorm! That care places sounds amazing too or at least get you a bit further through these tough days. Thinking of you and sending love

    Like

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