It’s not uncommon knowledge that the cocktail of hormones a pregnant person is flooded with throughout the 9-months growing a baby can dredge up mental health wobbles, whether they’ve been experienced before or not. Throughout my pregnancy, this less than tasty hormonal hotpot - as well as a flurry of external stressors - has left me in need of professional support.
There’s not many times that are ideal to be getting a new mental health diagnosis, but most people would probably avoid this during pregnancy, especially in the third trimester. Of course, that’s exactly when I’ve started working on mine. Honestly, flagging my wobbles to my community midwife at 16 weeks and getting a referral to the perinatal mental health team at 33 weeks is one of the best things I could have done - for me and my family.
At 35 weeks pregnant, I was diagnosed with Complex-PTSD. If you look this up, the medical description often links it back to a traumatic incident in childhood or infantile neglect. Fortunately, I don’t fall into this bracket. Instead, my Complex-PTSD is defined by multiple traumatic incidents or significantly stressful times throughout my life. Whilst I won’t go into the full details of what mine are here, I can recount about 8 “episodes”, ranging from one off incidents (sexual assault), to abusive relationships and high-school bullying.
A typical case of standalone PTSD would see the stress hormones (cortisol and adrenaline) lower to a “normal” level after the dust has settled following the incident. Complex-PTSD instead sees these stress hormones staying high, unable to return to healthy levels due to the repeated nature of these incidents, layering the stresses one on top of the other like a big ikky trifle. Coupled with pregnancy, the nasty C-PTSD hormones block the good but shy labour hormones (oxytocin and endorphins) needed to help progress birth and support natural pain relief. Fun times, ey!?
For me, two of the main long-term implications of my C-PTSD are symptoms of depression and anxiety - each of which I’ve been diagnosed with and unsuccessfully treated for by my GP over the last decade. Since this new diagnosis, I’ve learnt that my previous mental health treatment hasn’t worked because my depression and anxiety are actually symptoms of a bigger and deeper problem, not diagnoses in their own right. I also experience near constant burnout, being ridiculously hard on myself, nervous system dysfunction, self-sabotage, problems with emotional intimacy, inability to relax, and a paradoxical lazy perfectionism craving validation and positive reinforcement with a fear of not being good enough. A bit of a headfuck to say the least, especially when you’re about to pop a baby out of your body.
Despite the headfuck, I am supremely grateful for this diagnosis, and the support I’m getting from the perinatal mental health team. Not only do I have an exact diagnosis following THE MOST thorough assessment I’ve ever encountered, I’ve been immediately linked with a mental health nurse, my case is regularly reviewed in-front of a panel of mental health professionals, who proactively suggest specific therapies. I’ve been listened to when asked what treatment looks like for me - what are my preferences - and how they can best support me before and after baby. We’re collectively working towards me being well, not just now, but well into the future, breaking the cycles of trauma and self-sabotage, so I don’t project my BS onto my child. They’ve even offered my partner help, because I cannot be fully well and supported unless my immediate family are too.
It’s really made me reflect on my previous experiences of the mental health support system, and how easily I’ve been put on the conveyor belt of immediate medication and long wait for CBT, none of which has had a positive impact. How different the world would be if our society and organisations were properly funded enough for my current experience to be the norm! I digress.
I must say, reaching out was scary as shit. The journey so far has been emotional, overwhelming, and unbelievably difficult. I’ve been scratching the surface off of wounds I’ve long forgotten about, whilst trying not going too deep into the healing process this side of the baby arriving. Of course all of this is at a time when most societal messaging is about how beautiful pregnancy is, how grateful I should be for it, how all of my energy and priorities should be on the health of my baby and their future. I’ve already had the waves of mum guilt trying to tell me I’m not going to be good enough and I’m too damaged to bring up a child - especially as I’ve been told it’s HIGHLY likely I’ll experience some form of postnatal depression.
Throughout my entire pregnancy, my C-PTSD has created an emotional numbness detracting from the excitement I *should* be feeling. I’m still waiting to feel the warm fuzzies about becoming a mum, and for the nesting instincts to kick in. I’ve regularly had times where I’ve wanted to press pause on the baby coming to give me breathing space to get myself mentally strong enough for bringing a new life into the world. I’ve felt like my overloaded emotional and nervous systems are broken, unable to stir up positive feelings, worrying about whether I'll be able to bond with my child.
I’m a mere few days away from my due date and I am paralysed by ALL of the unknowns - both with the physical labouring of my baby and the mental health impacts. I know the best thing I can do to look after my baby is to look after me. I’m doing all of the work; the relaxation, the journaling, the talking to people, the getting outside, the eating well, the sleep, the brain exercises, the fighting off the mum guilt, the wanky blogging. It doesn’t make it any less daunting though, particularly whilst my support network is so small thanks to COVID.
Whilst yes, 35-weeks pregnant is definitely not a great time to be receiving a new mental health diagnosis. It’s certainly better than not getting one at all. I’m in SO MUCH of a better place now than I would have been without it and having the reassurance of support when I need it.
Moral of the story, get checked out. Raise even the smallest of wobbles to your GP, your midwife, or your local mental health team. Don’t leave it untreated. It could be the best thing you do for your new family. I am so pleased it’s what I did and I genuinely cannot wait for the next stage of my treatment and therapies post-baby.