Post nantal depression (aka post partum depression)

I always knew I would be a young mum... my family knew and my friends knew.  When I met my fiance, we talked about if we wanted kids or not, and he said that he did, but it would be a miracle if he ever actually fathered one.  After

we had been dating almost a year, I found out I was pregnant.  I told him if he wanted a DNA test, I would be happy to do one (I knew it didn't mean he thought I cheated on him.. it was more just to get it to sink in he was going to be a dad), but he refused.  When I was four months pregnant, we moved 1400 kilometres from both our families, from a small community to a city.  As my pregnancy progressed, the doctors noticed that I had developed Pre-Eclampsia Toxemia, a potentially fatal condition that raises the blood pressure and can cause the blood to become toxic and the liver shut down.  I was admitted to hospital several times, for about a total of a month.  Our daughter was born on July 22, 2007 at 3:03pm.  I wanted to be as active during the labour and birth as possible, but unfortunately, due the the PET, I had to have an epidural and was bed-ridden the whole time.  This also slowed my labour from what the doctors said would be a 3 to 4 hour labour to a 7 hour labour (which was still great).  Jessi-Kayte (said Kate) weighed 7lb 7oz (3.51kg) and was 50cm

In hospital, the midwives encouraged me to breastfeed, but our daughter was having trouble latching on.  The first night they sent me to the nursery where I tried to express, but could only manage to get 20mL.  The second night and third nights were better- Jessi-Kayte still had trouble latching on was swallowing a lot of air, but she was getting milk.  We were lucky as she slept at least 6 hours straight a night, so I got plenty of rest.  Our first night home was a nightmare.  Jessi-Kayte wouldn't latch on, no matter what I tried.  And I hadn't bought any bottles or pumps to express or formula, as I thought everyone could breastfeed eventually.  How wrong I was.  My fiance woke up at 3am, to find me at one end of the bed and our daughter at the other, both screaming our lungs out.  He made me ring my mum who had flown down the day after Jessi-Kayte was born, and ask her to get a bottle and formula from anywhere she could find.  She couldn't find anywhere open that sold the stuff, so Jessi-Kayte went the whole night without feeding... I was a mess.  The next day, mum bought a breast pump and bottles so I could express.  After successfully expressing for 3 weeks, my milk dried up and I had to switc to formula.  I felt like a failure as a mother.  Everyone told me that as long as Jessi-Kayte was getting fed and was putting on weight (which she was), then it didn't matter where her food came from.  It was also at this time that she developed colic.  She screamed almost continuously for a week and my finace and i were both train wrecks.  I ended up sleeping on the couch because everytime i went anywhere near our daughter, I wanted to hurt her.  One night I got that frustrated I completely zoned out, and when I snapped out of it, i was holding a pillow over Jessi-Kayte's face as she screamed.  i pulled it off as soon as I realised, and hugged her and told her how sorry I was.  Then I wanted to hurt myself for being such a bad mother.  I told myself I didn't deserve to have such a beautiful daughter.  My fiance told me to see the doctor.  The following day, I saw my GP and told her what had happened and how I was feeling.  She asked  me a few questions, and diagnosed me with severe post natal depression.  She wanted to admit me to hospital for observation, but I refused.  So we agreed on medication and daily councelling.  Within 2 weeks, I felt better.  I no longer felt like my daughter wasn't mine, and I no longer wanted to hurt her or myself.  

After a month, I stoped having daily councelling and started having it once a week.  Slowly, we phased out the councelling althogether.  I got in touch with a group for young parents, and after going to the first group, felt more confident and assured that I was a good mother.  They helped me when things to tough, and when things were going well, they would congratulate me.  Just knowing there were other people out there who felt like I did was such a massive relief and comfort.  As the doctor told me... its me thats a bad mother.. it's the illness that makes me think it.  I never realise what a parasitic illness depression is.  I suffered with it during high school, but never to the extent of after having my daughter.  It feeds on your insecurites and makes you believe things that aren't true about yourself.  Now Jessi-Kayte is 10 months old, and I am no longer recieving councelling (although if I need to talk, I ring Lifeline or a similar helpline) or on medication.  I still have my bad days, but they are few and far between, and when they do strike, I am prepared to deal with them.  If I hadn't gotten help, I wouldn't be here.  One thing I learnt is not to be too proud to ask for help.  You owe it to baby and more importantly to yourself to enjoy motherhood.  There is nothing weak about asking for help... in fact, it shows an unbelieveable amount of courage.  So please, if you feel depressed, or think you or someone you know might be, seek help.  You owe it to yourself and your baby.