So what if I have PND?

I've had PND (Post Natal Depression) for 6 years now. 

After both kids. And that's okay. I can live with that, because I'm lucky enough to have access to treatment and supportive friends. I've never felt inadequate or guilty or ashamed.

Quite the opposite really. I don't mind talking about my experience. I always hope it will encourage another Mum or make her feel less alone.

But I was thrown on Thursday last week. I went to see an allergy specialist for my never ending runny nose and eyes. A German doctor. He was loud. He sounded German. He did his job. He asked about my medical history and what medication I was on. I told him I took citalopram because I suffer from PND. When told my youngest was now 3 he raised his eyebrows very high and said:

"Is that still PND after 3 years?". I just stared at him, gob-smacked.

Then he asked a few questions about allergy medications I've tried over the years. After a few minutes he stopped and said:

"I can't believe how many people take anti-depressants in New Zealand. Doctors just give it out to everyone. Don't you think you could stop now?" Wow. Just wow. I spluttered. I stumbled on my words. And then I said:

"I ended up at the CATT (Crisis Assessment and Treatment Team) centre in Porirua when my baby was 4 weeks old. I wanted to kill myself. I..." He interrupted me and said, "Oh, you were suicidal. Please keep taking the pills then!".

We then proceeded with what I was there for: allergies and prick testing. He was highly efficient in that regard and I'm already doing much better on the new treatment. Thank you German Doctor.

I feel so lucky that I'm in a place now where I can hear such statements and not take them too seriously. He did make me doubt for a few seconds...

"Could I stop my anti-depressants now?", "Do I really need them?"

Was the German Doctor right?

But then sense took over. I mean, come on. It's ok to take anti-depressants if you're suicidal but not otherwise? Just come off the pills, you don't need them anyway? Imagine if he said that to a woman who was feeling very unwell mentally, or felt guilty, or lost, or angry about her PND? I left that office worried that a highly qualified doctor, who gets paid $375 per 45 minute consultation, feels he has the right to give a woman he doesn't know advice about her PND and her treatment. 

Would he have told my friend with diabetes to stop her injections? 
Would he have told my other friend with severe asthma to stop using her inhaler? 
Did he tell me to stop taking medication for my allergies?

There is obviously still a stigma attached to all forms of depression. Maybe more so in Europe than in New Zealand. My very talented Mum, who has suffered from depression her entire adult life and has come up against a lot of judgement and stereotypes, wrote a great little book called "Thank God for Anti-Depressants". I agree with her 100%. Thank God for all medication that saves life, be it diabetes, cholesterol, depression, asthma, infections, etc.

So what if I have PND? So what if I was suicidal? It's okay. It's called life. PND is still a part of my life. Mostly in the form of anxieties these days. But it's still there. I'm better and better as the years go by though and I find that exciting.

So what if you have PND or depression? It's okay. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You will get better, with or without the help of pills and/or other remedies. Life is a journey and it will throw things at you, but I've found that it's the way you accept and deal with life's lemons that transform you into a better and stronger person. I've gone through two very bare and lifeless winters, but spring is a pretty exciting place to be: summer is just around the corner!

I would never trade my journey for an easier one. It has made me who I am today. Your journey makes you who you are today.

You are amazingly and fearfully made. Kia Kaha! Be Strong!


I'd love to hear from you!


* If you are suffering from depression and you are worried about your safety or the safety of others, please don't suffer in silence. Contact your doctor, or call a friend. Ask for help.*

"Ahhhhhh-tchoo!" Confessions of an Allergic Mum

"Ahhhhhh-tchooo!" 
Really loud. Fills the room. 
"Atchoo, atchoo, atchoo!". Snuffle, snuffle, blows nose.

Seriously, hayfever is not funny. I've had it on and off forever. But the past 2 years have been terrible. No respite. As if having two young children wasn't tiring enough. 

"Ahhhhhh-tchoooooooo!". Pause. Blows nose. "Arghhhhh".

I'm seriously over it. Hay fever doesn't sound like a serious condition. It's not. But it can be debilitating at times. And oh so tiring.

This is what I've tried:

"Atchoo! Atchoo!"

So, nose drops now give me nose bleeds. 
Anti-histamine tablets don't work any more.
Steroids are miraculous but I can't have them more than 2 or 3 times a year. And they are baaaaaad for you.
Acupuncture helped my allergies a little, but especially strengthened my immune system and energy levels.
Vicks Vaporizer. Smells amazing, and I do seem to do better on the days when I've used it the previous night.
Avoiding milk as much as I can, but I can't give up cheese and yoghurt and butter and cream!!
Tempted to chop my head off, but.........

I mean, try cooking a meal. I have to stop every two minutes or so to sneeze or blow my nose. Then wash my hands. Then keep going. Then stop again, wash hands. Keep going. Drives me nuts!

"Ahhhhhh-tchooooooo!". 

Some days I get up and I feel like I can't do this one more day. The smiling, the being patient, the educating, the cooking, the cleaning, the policing, the entertaining, the looking good, the caring, the running around, the shopping, the teaching, the hugging, the kissing, the nose wiping, the being reasonable and rational, when all I really want to do is lock myself up in a room, curl up with a book and rest. Oh blissful rest!

But do you know what keeps me going? My faith - as always.

I'm seeing a super duper German allergy specialist this week. Dr Robert Winkler. I have very high expectations and hopes. Actually, he better have some answers and solutions for me otherwise I might actually strangle him (just kidding!).

So if you have any tips that have worked for you, please please please share the looooooove!

In the meantime, Kia Kaha! Be Strong!

Bloggers love comments. So do leave me a note. I will always take the time to answer. Thank you!

In this series, you can also read:

Confessions of an Anxious Mum

Confessions of a Sleep-Deprived Mum

Confessions of an Envious Mum

And if you'd like to follow me on Facebook, please click here. Thank you!

What the F(ish)?

I do my groceries once a week. Have done for years now (see why here). It saves money and time, and since I hate doing it, why do it more often?

So on Wednesday my little boy and I went off to our local supermarket for our weekly shop. He's 3. He likes helping. It's pretty sweet, but can also get kinda annoying, especially if I'm in a hurry. 

So I try not to be in a hurry.

He helps pick out the fruit and vegetables. He helps stick the labels on the plastic bags. He's beaming. I try to kiss him but he dodges my attempts with swift precision and practise.

He's not too interested in the meat. We go passed the fish. There's whole fish, there's fish heads, there's fish fillets and there's seafood. I keep going. We get to the dairy. He says "Stop Mamma". And points back to the fish. Okay, I get it. We go back. "Die?" he asks. "Yes, the fish are dead". He points to the fillets. "Ça non fish", he tells me in his cute Frenglish (aka mixture of French and English). He's adamant. So I explain that the fillets are the whole fish, but cut up and ready to eat. No answer.

We move on to the dairy. I put some butter and cheese in my trolley. "Stop Mamma", he says again. And points back to the fish. At this point, I physically feel the choice I have in front of me. I can either tell him that we need to move on now, that we've seen the fish, and "let's go and get some ham". Or, I can turn the trolley around and go back.

I go back. We do the same thing again. Say the same things again. Silence. We move on.

I add the Greek yoghurt and the milk to the trolley. "Stop Mamma". I look at him. At his gorgeous green-brown eyes looking at me so earnestly. I feel laughter bubbling up.

I go back. He points at the fish fillets. "Me mam-mam ça?" he asks. I smile and make sure I got his meaning, "Would you like Mummy to get you some fish for your lunch?". "Yep", he answers, very satisfied. So I get him a fillet of Tarakihi, our favourite New Zealand fish.

We finish our groceries and go home. For lunch, I pan-fry his fish fillet. He very quickly polishes it off.

He's happy. I'm happy.

I have to record these precious moments. They come and go so quickly. I fee like if I write them down then they won't be able to escape into the infinity of the past. Thanks for reading me today. Please tell me your stories!

Kia kaha! Be Strong!

Confessions of an Envious Mum

If you like school holidays, I envy you.

If you like school holidays, I don't understand you.

If you like school holidays, I'd gladly swap with you.

But alas, the latter isn't possible. So I better leave all my lack of understanding and wishful thinking aside, and get on with reality. Which is, I DON'T LIKE SCHOOL HOLIDAYS. There, I've said it. In fact, I don't like weekends either. Every Friday I hear my husband say, "yay! it's the weekend!". My heart just plummets and inside I think "shit, it's the weekend". I know it's very un-PC to be admitting this, but it's the truth. Weekends and school holidays, all our routines and little habits go out the window, and my introverted-people-loving-self (I know this may not make sense) is left with two kids under 6 who squabble squabble squabble, need me most of the time, and suck all energy out of me.

Please understand. I LOVE MY KIDS! I really do. I WANTED KIDS. I really did. But I just don't like being with them for more than a few hours at a time without a break. Yeah yeah, I know, one day I'll look back with nostalgia, bla bla bla. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll relish the "kids are older" stage a lot more than I can relish the "my kids are little and needy" stage. Who knows?

In the meantime, if you like the school holidays, I envy you. A lot. I don't know why, but despite having things organized, I found these winter holidays particularly hard. Into the first week, I asked some of you for some tips on a Mummy Facebook page and I got some good ideas:

Okay, so if you're like me, you look at the lists above and freak out thinking, "eeeeek, I can't do all that". Believe me, it's not about doing all that. It's about having ideas ready so that you can pick and choose depending on:

a) your mood

b) your kid(s)' mood(s)

c) everyone's energy levels

d) your budget.

Another great idea is to

So with all this information under my belt, I went about making lists and picking ideas from it. The kids still squabbled. They still needed attention. But at least I didn't feel like a blank page in desperate need of ideas. We did have some fun, and there were some quiet moments:

Fun in the snow (sides), and teaching my daughter how to make short crust pastry (centre)

Encouraging Daddy on the football field, drawing,
playing with Master J's new wooden parking, reading books

Also, for your own sanity, I strongly encourage you to take some time for yourself, even if it's just 15 minutes at a time! I had a few occasions to escape over the past two weeks, which were very precious moments and were made possible thanks to a few angels in my life:

A walk on my own in the sun, coffee and soup in a cafe, admiring nature

So there you have them, my lessons learned over the winter holidays 2015. Of course, if you are the kind of Mum who loves the school holidays, you probably don't need all these ideas. You come up with them naturally, or you don't need a plan. You just enjoy hanging out with your kids for two weeks. I am in awe of you. But I am also in awe of Mums like me, who find it hard, but who get through it.

Kia kaha! Be strong!

Bloggers love comments. So if you have any ideas to add to my lists, please do share them. The more the better for the next holidays! Thank you!

In this series, you can also read:

Confessions of an Anxious Mum

Confessions of a Sleep-Deprived Mum

And if you'd like to follow me on Facebook, please click here. Thank you!

Confessions of an Anxious Mum

I've just had a pretty crappy day. In my head. With the kids.

I can just feel it sometimes, before I even get out of bed. Today's going to be hard.

And then I stop myself in my tracks and berate myself for having those thoughts and tell myself I should be positive. And then I change my mind and think "No, it's okay. Accept your thoughts for what they are". Just thoughts. 

Thoughts are just thoughts until I act on them.

I can always dream, right?

More often than not, these morning intuitions are pretty accurate. Sure enough, this morning started bright and early with Master Joakim who couldn't find his car at 5.15am. Followed by Miss Letitia at about 5.45am whose duvet was all in a tangle and who was freezing. Then I lay in bed, unable to sleep. The more time passed, the more I debated actually just getting up and doing something fruitful that would get me ahead of the game today. But my tired body won and I finally went back to sleep mere minutes before the alarm went off.

As soon as the kids were up, they started bickering, and whining, and screaming like someone was torturing them when in fact their sock wouldn't fit just so. I finally got Miss L to school (on time!), and everything quietened down. It's funny how you take one number out of the equation, and everything changes. The balance shifts.

I breathed. 

My son and I did the groceries. We had a coffee and a fluffy to reward ourselves. That's our little Wednesday routine. We went home, put away the shopping. I was about to start making lunch when my son took my hand and pulled me towards his cars and the racing track,

I paused.

I had a choice. Either tell him once again that I was busy, or stop and play with my darling wee boy.

I stopped. 

We played for 15 beautiful minutes. I looked at my boy's smiles, I heard his giggles. My eyes wanted to eat him up and my ears were tingling with love. Waves of restoring love washed over me. All the hard moments are worth it.

After school pick up, the bickering, the fighting, and the shouting resumed. I ploughed on, that frown between my eyebrows, checking the clock every few minutes and wishing my husband would come home early. He did. Then he went for a run. My heart dived and sunk. I wanted to drop everything, take the car keys, and drive off. But then my heart came rushing back up for air. My head gave it a stern talking too. 

So much goes on between my heart and my head every day. This on-going and never-ending dialogue of feelings and thoughts, of should haves and did nots, of wanting to cry and wanting to laugh. But at the centre of it all is God, and He holds me together, always. He never lets me go.

When I put my son to bed, he held my head close to his, cheek against cheek, while I sung to him. Then I put my daughter to bed. She's started this thing where she tells me "I love you" over and over before she leaves for school or before bed, because she wants to be sure it's the last thing I hear from her before we're apart. I forgot the whining and the screaming, the bickering and the never-ending demands. 

Oh the pure sweet excruciating love bursting out of my chest in these moments. 

My first child is 6. My second child is 3 next week. I still suffer from Post-Natal Depression and Anxiety. Life goes on though. It's like a river, and where I'm at just now is pretty choppy and twisty, but hey, it's a lot better than the rapids and sharp bends I was struggling through a few years ago! And even though my sweet hubby may not see it every day, I know that I'm a better person today because of everything I've been through. I can love better, I can empathize better, I can understand better, and I can be there better.

I don't know where you're at in your parenting journey. But whatever you're experiencing, you're not alone. Kia Kaha! Be Strong!

Confessions of a Sleep-Deprived Mum

First, I'd just like to underline that this stuff applies to sleep-deprived Dads too. I don't want to appear discriminating in any way. But I'm a Mum, not a Dad ;-).

I thought I'd be writing this as a Mum of a newborn, but no, it's only now, with a 6 year old and a very almost 3 year old, that I sit down to write about sleep deprivation. If you'd told me this a few years ago (read pre-children era), I would have laughed at you and told you that my kids, once over the age of 1, would not be waking me up or keeping me awake at night. Ha! So much for that.

I'm finding it a lot harder to cope with the middle of the night and early morning wake ups now, because they're not supposed to be happening! Or are they?

My kids should be old enough to know by now that creating a sleep deprived Mummy-Monster is not a desirable thing to do. At all. That their life will be more miserable for it. That the Happy-Mummy who likes playing and doing crafts and baking is absolutely not going to emerge in those circumstances. Oh no. Mummy-Monster will curl out her ugly head despite all of Happy-Mummy's efforts to reign her in.

I guess kids don't really get the concept of "shooting oneself in the foot", do they? They don't get that a sleep-deprived Mummy-Monster is really not fun to have around, and so maybe they should keep back from waking Happy-Mummy up at 2am because “I can't find my car”, or “I'm thirsty”, or “I just had to poo in the middle of the night”, or “My foot is really itchy”. And then at 5am because “My hot water bottle is cold now”, or “I'm absolutely sure there's a spider in my room”.

Once they're back in bed and I'm desperately trying to go back to sleep, I try to remember if I did the same thing to my parents. And seriously, I don't think I did. I do however remember having bad nightmares and waking my Dad up in those circumstances. But nightmares are one exception that I don't mind getting up for. And REAL sickness. Seriously, I think I was a pretty angelic child as far as sleep was concerned, once I'd passed the 1 year old stage. But hey, my Mum, who reads my blog, can correct me on this. Watch the comments section below!

So anyway, I've put together a little list of “do nots” and “dos” of a sleep deprived Mummy-Monster. This list applies not only to my close family, but anyone else I may enter into any contact with on that given day (poor souls). I do realise that my list is far from the expected “Godly Mummy” I strive to be when not sleep-deprived, but there you are, such is the reality of a sleep-deprived Mum!

****

1) do not, under any circumstances, expect me to do anything until I've had a cup of coffee.

2) do not, under any circumstances, tell me that there are people worse off than me out there.

3) do not, unless you want me to disappear for the rest of the day, speak loudly or shout or scream.

4) do not, unless you like living with risk, ask me to do anything above and beyond my basic responsibilities, which are already way too many.

5) do not empty more than one toy box. Over the whole day.

6) do not complain about the food I put in front of you (this one goes for darling hubby as well).

7) do not expect me to utter more than 2, maybe 3 sentences in a row. Rather, do expect me to be very quiet, to nod and shake my head, and growl in your general direction.

8) do not ask me how long the kids have been watching TV today as you can be sure that I'm already feeling very guilty about it.

9) do not fight.

10) do not argue.

11) accept that no means no.

12) please, please, please, do not whine.

13) do take me out for a coffee.

14) do offer to take my child/ren away for an hour.

15) do offer me a glass of red wine any time from 4.30pm.

16) please, please, please, do let me sleep tonight if you want Happy-Mummy back tomorrow!

****

Now, I really really really want to hear from you if you've somehow managed to get it into your little ones' heads that it is not a good idea to wake Happy-Mummy up at night. How do you do it?

But if you're like me, and you haven't found the magical recipe either, I really really really want to hear from you too, because then I won't feel so alone!

Kia Kaha! Be Strong!

And do leave me a comment. I just love to hear from my readers.

The New Mum Breastfeeding Station

A woman I know is going to have her first baby in July. Friends and I are organizing a baby shower for her tomorrow. It's all pretty exciting. As I thought about a present to give her, I kept coming back to a gift a dear friend gave me when my second child was born. A "Mummy breastfeeding station box". It was so practical and contained things like muesli bars, tissues, a pen, a notebook, and I could also put my phone in it. I would just pick it up, and put it down next to where I was feeding. So I thought I would make one up for my new friend, and I do believe she hasn't come across my blog yet - phew:

New Mum Breastfeeding Station

I'm pretty happy with myself! There's some yummy Frooze Balls, a notebook and 2 pens for all those thoughts and things to do that go through your head just when you're stuck in a chair breastfeeding, a cup with a lid and a straw (no risks of spilling on baby), a lip balm for those post pregnancy dry lips, tissues and Milo (gosh, I don't know what I would have done without Milo when I was breastfeeding those first few weeks). The only thing missing are Hydrogel disks (I'm not getting paid to advertise these by the way. They are just plain brilliant!). Oh my goodness, those breast pads are the most life changing thing a friend gave me and they just about saved my nipples, if I may say so. And oh the bliss when you take them out of the fridge and apply them. Anyway, I haven't found any in time for tomorrow so I might get my friend some when the baby is born.

Another thing I thought about including, then thought it might be best not to as I don't want to frighten the poor woman, are the unmentionable disposable briefs. Yeah, I won't go into any details, but let me just say that you don't want to put your cutest underwear in your maternity bag. Oh no. They'll end up in the bin - believe me!

So, is there anything else you'd put in a New Mum Breastfeeding Station? I'd love to hear your ideas, on here or on Facebook.

Thank you for reading, and Kia Kaha, as always!