So here we are.

So here we are. I read something the other day that spoke about how having a mental health illness had become the “in thing”. How it had become fashionable to be mentally unwell and talk about “making it through the battle”. Actually I really couldn’t disagree more. I think it is that now people actually talk about being mentally unwell more. We actually don’t talk about it in hushed tones so much. We don’t say “they were a bit depressed you know”, whilst looking around to see who might of heard. We say “they have depression”.

We know more now about the many mental health illnesses that are out there. To talk about people actually having a negative impact for speaking about their mental health experiences just seems barbaric to me. Yes, feeling down is not the same as being depressed. Being a worrier is not the same as having anxiety. Having mood swings doesn’t mean your bipolar. But as someone who has postnatal depression and anxiety, I cannot even begin to imagine why someone would suggest that people want to have a mental health illness. Why someone would feel people find it cool and trendy? And how anything negative can come from people sharing their stories.

I still have intrusive thoughts sometimes. 18 months on. Can you imagine having thoughts of harming your own child? Your child who you loved more than anything. Your child that you would do anything to protect. Can you imagine having images of them being hurt just pop into your head? Can you imagine making a cup of tea and being terrified they would get burnt, even when they were in the next room? Intrusive thoughts are normal for parents. They are normal for everyone. But what’s not “normal” is having them in your head every single day, all day. You’re not ok if you plan how to kill yourself on a daily basis. You’re not ok if you refuse to put your child down, forever, because you think if you do they will die. I would not wish a mental health illness on anyone.

People talk about it being a journey because it is. Least for me it is. Setbacks and good and bad days. Triggers and overwhelming moments, when you think; “can I really do this?” To be in a constant battle (yes I said battle too) with yourself, with your mind and how your feeling is exhausting in every way. When you find some positive, when you feel just that little bit better, when you find yourself in recovery, why not share your story? Shout it from the bloody rooftops. After I shared my story for the first time on social media, so many people messaged me. People I’d never met, old friends, school friends from years ago. They spoke to me about their experiences and suddenly that very lonely, isolating time becomes just that little bit less lonely. That little bit less frightening.

How can that not be good? How can talking about what we are or have been through not be good?

Yes I know, talking about something isn’t going to change everything. We still do not have enough inpatient beds. Mental health nurses are overworked, understaffed and at times unappreciated. Sometimes you might be on a waiting list for 2 years to get help. GPs still don’t know what to do sometimes when you go to them for help. I know this. I am not completely naive. All this, yeah, it’s crap. But that doesn’t mean we shut up about mental health. It doesn’t mean that talking isn’t beneficial. It doesn’t mean posting a cheesy “uplifting” quote on instagram is stupid. Because actually I believe talking about is helping the change. Because more people are signing up to donate to organisations like Mind and Rethink. More people are becoming volunteers in hospitals. The government are starting to take notice. Because we’re loud. We’re talking. We’re making noise and we’re making a fuss. The NHS needs more money to create more beds. More mother and baby units. To employ more mental health specialists. To allow more employers and employees to go on courses regarding mental health. We need it for more nurses. We need it for more facilities in rural areas. We need it for transport for those who can’t get places. We need more housing, because 75% of those who are homeless will suffer with an mental health illness at some point. In fact, 1 in 4 of us will have a mental health illness at some point in our lives. We have so much more to do, so many ways we need to improve.

So write to your local MP. Donate to organisations when you can. Volunteer in your spare time. But don’t stop talking. Don’t stop sharing your experiences. I won’t. And I don’t think anyone else should either.

Stay tuned for another one.

Love, Kate. X

So can we do better?

So when I tell people what I do, I feel so proud, I smile and feel like the NHS is my baby that has just said their first word (weird analogy but you get the gist). That doesn’t mean I think the NHS always gets it right, because I don’t think they do. After all, no one or nothing is perfect, it’s impossible. But I do think the NHS is a wonderful organisation. It’s stretched, we who work for it are often stressed and personally, being a nurse is hard work physically and mentally.

But looking back on my own patient experience. I received incredible care. That’s not to boast, that’s to hope one day everyone will. It’s to talk about the good and celebrate it but more importantly learn from it. I went into A&E at around 8pm on Sunday evening. I had a midwife appointment on the Monday where me and Jordan had agreed I needed to tell her how I was feeling. But by Sunday evening I had decided I couldn’t manage any longer and if I didn’t receive help I was going to kill myself. I stayed in A&E till Wednesday evening. Usually you stay in A&E for a max of 4 hours until you are either sent home or sent to another department or ward of the hospital or another organisation. Within those 4 hours treatment needs to be decided.

Within 4 hours treatment was decided for me, but there were no beds available in the country on a mother and baby unit. Winchester had some but they had a policy that babies had to be over a month old and Arth was around 3 weeks. I stayed in a room for those 3 days with Jord, Arthur and my sisters came in and out too. We all cried, a lot. I slept a little bit on a mattress on the floor. We even smiled a little bit. We talked and cried some more. I begged those who looked after me to help me, I begged them not to give up trying to find me somewhere, and they didn’t.

I didn’t go onto the follow on ward from A&E because I worked there. Just two months before, I had been there working, heavily pregnant excited for my new adventure. Fast forward two months and I was a shell of who I was once. The thought of my colleagues seeing me like this mortified me. I wasn’t ashamed of the situation but I didn’t want to be unprofessional, I didn’t want them to see me any differently. I didn’t want to lose my “credibility” as a nurse. It wasn’t about having a mental illness, it was just about having an illness. So they let me stay in that room for 3 days. I went to the matron who I had worked with before, I broke down and sobbed as I asked her to help. My manager of my ward came in and told me she wouldn’t let me go home, she promised me she would make sure they find me a bed somewhere.

When I look back at that incredibly difficult time, I will never forget those who worked tirelessly to help me. But I know this is not always the case. I have had people message me saying they’ve been to their GP and they’ve sent them home saying “there’s not much they can do, see how you feel in a few weeks”. I’ve seen people bounce in and out of hospital overdosing again and again. I know young people who were put on waiting lists even thought they harm themselves every day. We say depression and people roll their eyes. They say “oh she just gets a bit anxious”, like it’s nothing.

But it’s not. There isn’t enough mother and baby units in the country. Some people don’t have one anywhere near where they live. There isn’t enough inpatient beds. There isn’t enough permanent staff because nurses are too stretched. We have waiting lists even though some people don’t have time. We have people who work in healthcare who disapprove of mental illnesses. But we can do better. And from a few years ago I think we already are.

Finally it is becoming more recognised that men suffer depression too. Addiction is treated as a mental illness. There are more volunteers on the streets because 80% of those who are homeless in the UK report their mental health suffers. Charities like Samaritans have call lines open 24/7. We have World mental health day, International day of happiness. Of course there is still a long way to go. More money is needed. More education in schools, healthcare and workplaces. More staff and more organisations to make more beds. But, like I said before, nothing is perfect. But, to me the NHS gets it right a lot more than they get it wrong.

Stay tuned guys. Sorry it’s been a bit quiet here.

Love, Kate. X

So parenthood can be very lonely.

So here we are. It can be hard to be a parent and at times I’ve found myself feeling very alone. I think it’s for a few reasons. Every baby/ child is different and at times I’ve found myself feeling like nobody is feeling the same way I do. Or sometimes you feel like everybody else has it together. Like you see pictures of children eating amazing meals, home cooked, 3 meals a day with snacks in between. Sometimes I can’t even get Arth to sniff food, i mean a sniff wouldn’t really be much use but you see what I mean. You think, what are they doing differently?! Then you get mountains of different of advice and feel more lost than ever.

Sometimes at 3am in the morning when your bouncing up and down with your one year old and then the next day you have someone say to you; “oh my baby is only 10 weeks and she sleeps through every night”… Suddenly you feel like you will never have a full nights sleep again (you will) and your the only one in the world. Sleep is a big one because at 3am in the morning it can feel like the world is dark and your the only one awake.

I think we compare ourselves against each other and if we cant “keep up” with others or if something is different for us we feel very lonely. We can feel like we’re doing something wrong. But just because we do something different to others doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

It can make you feel like your alone, that you can’t talk to anyone about it for fear of being judged.

There’s also the loneliness that as amazing as our children are, their not the most amazing conversationalists. In my experience anyway. Sure as they get older I feel like this feeling gets a little bit easier. In the early days when your talking to your baby and their just looking at you blankly like “can you just feed me and shut up please? Oh,and I just did a big one in my pants.” And that’s about all you get. That for me, felt very lonely. It’s hard because you want to feel like your doing it right, you’d like some reassurance. Maybe they could fill in a questionnaire, maybe rate you out of 10, anything would be good.

The point is, it is lonely. I don’t think this is just a “I’ve had PND and been lonely” kind of thing. It feels like everybody feels this way sometimes. From what I gather. It is hard and it does still feel lonely sometimes for me. The first of my childhood friends to have a baby, sometimes I feel alone just because I don’t feel like they want to talk about big poops, teeth and weaning. Their life has taken a different direction to mine at the moment so sometimes you feel like your on your own.

But I know I’m not. It is lonely sometimes. And it’s ok to admit. I think it’s to admit even if you have family and friends all around you. Even if you’ve been trying for your baby for years and years. Even if you’ve lost a child. It’s still ok to admit you struggle with feeling alone sometimes even when you have your baby there, even when your surrounded by your children. Sometimes I think we all need adult interaction. We need to talk about something other than our babies, something other than what we do and what they do, we need to stop comparing. You need to take a breather.

I think we need to say to each other “I feel the same” and “you do what works for you”, “mine still don’t sleep”, and “go out and do something for you”. Having a baby made me feel like I wanted my Mum around me more. My family. It made me feel like a child myself again a little bit. I wanted to have those I loved around me just to give me a nod when I would say something like “but that amount of poo is ok right? Should it be that colour?”. I still call my mum when I have a moment of parent terror, like when Arth feel into a big muddy puddle of horse poo…face first, mouth open…yep that happened. Que call to my Mum; “is he going to be ok? Should I call the doctor?!” He was fine and laughed and felt quite happy about the situation actually.

My point is, feeling alone sucks. But we are never truly alone. There is always someone who knows the exact right thing to say. There is always someone who will just nod and hug you. There is always someone who helps that loneliness. And I totally believe it’s ok to admit.

Thanks for sticking with my very infrequent posts peeps. Stay tuned for the next one, I’ll try not to leave it so long.

Love, Kate. X

So here we are. So let’s talk about money.

It’s something people can be uncomfortable with. It’s something that’s not really spoken about. I will tell you the truth. I think sometimes it’s harder than we think. They have been days when I think “do we have enough for food?” They have been days when I’ve cried because I’m scared about the future. They say money can’t buy happiness but the thing is, you do need it. We need it in life. It’s sad but we do.

I know we are incredibly lucky to have a roof over our heads, we are incredibly lucky to have food in our fridge. But we do struggle. Babies are expensive, life is expensive. Transport whether you have a car or you get the bus, train whatever, it’s expensive. Sometimes trying to save feels like we’re trying to run in sand. We’re saving and saving but we’re actually not, the money is going but there’s actually nothing to show for it.

I don’t think we talk about it enough. We don’t talk about food banks. Or soup kitchens enough. We don’t talk about affordable housing and loans enough. But it happens. And I don’t think we should be ashamed. We need to talk about how if you have twins you can only claim child tax credits for one of them. We need to talk about how expensive house deposits are. How expensive childcare is. We need to talk about flexible working. We need to talk about car sharing. All these things that need work, change, discussion. Otherwise we won’t ever see improvements.

There are a few people out there who are talking about the tricky subjects. But I still think we need to do more talking. There are times when I feel like I need to shy away from talking about tough stuff like money, I don’t want to speak about it. I don’t want to think about how I’m struggling. But we should. I don’t think you should feel shame in looking into getting help with money.

And with everything we went through I did worry about it. I still do. It was scary thinking about Jord travelling to see me in Nottingham, money goes quick. Hotels, food and petrol. It went. And it went quick. When you become unwell you have to focus on getting better but the world doesn’t stop. You still have to pay bills, buy food, you still have to live.

Worrying about money created stress for us both individually but it also puts a strain on relationships. It slows down healing and getting better. It makes everything harder. Even now it’s still hard. Times are tough. You know it’s really tough when you google; “can I sell a kidney?” Turns out no, FYI. It’s good to know these things though.

Children are expensive and money does have an impact on mental health. For those instagramers that do sponsored posts, I say good on them. They get a lot of stick but it’s a job. It’s a way of providing for themselves and their family. I would do it. I am not ashamed. I work and I love my job. I want to move further in my career in the future. For myself but for my family too. For self development but for the money too. I don’t think about spending money on material goods, I want money to buy our own home. I’d love to be able to help my Mum, to give back a little.

So here I am. I’m talking about money. I’m trying to work out how to buy our own home. I’m trying to move forward in my career. I would like to blog and one day I wouldn’t say no to doing sponsored posts on Instagram if it works for us. I would love it if my writing around mental health and motherhood got published, if it was really recognised. Money? We do need it. I know we are incredibly lucky. Sometimes I forget, but I know. But I’m still going to strive to do better, to develop.

Stay tuned for another one.

Love, Kate. X

So here I am.

So here we are. Here I am. Back. We’re finally getting more into the swing of life haha. Which means I can get back into more blogging.

So this is just a post to say hi 👋🏼 and sorry for disappearing. Not that many people read this…I’m just sort of talking to myself…haha. Anyway, it’s been tough trying to find the balance. I’m trying to work, be a mum, have a horse, a life, relationship. It’s tough! It’s tough to stay in touch with people, to keep up with your friends and family and what’s happening. I want to be a good mum but I find myself beating myself up if I feel like I’m not being “good enough” but I can’t be supermum. I also find myself punishing myself if I don’t cook and eat well enough. But sometimes it’s just easier to eat toast. Sometimes the chocolate helps. Like it really helps.

I want to have a career and focus on that but I also want to spend time with my baby without my mind being elsewhere. I want to be with him and just be there completely. Not thinking about what books I need to read or looking at my work emails. But it’s tough. It’s all tough. I guess I didn’t realise how tough it would be trying to juggle everything.

I don’t know what I would do on my own. We have help, we live with Jords parents at the moment. I get lifts from his family, my family because I don’t drive. Discounted ferry, family taking Arthur to nursery, we have help. It does take village and I don’t know what we would do without ours. I guess this post is shout-out to everyone out there trying to find the balance in life. Not just in parenthood but with everything. Some days I feel like I’m totally bossing life. Me and Arthur have a really good day, we go out, clean and cook, I do some work and I spend time with Jord and chat to those who I love. Other days I eat ice cream and chocolate, I put on peppa pig and go through the day as a zombie grunting hello to Jord and just dreaming of sleep.

We are all trying to do the same thing. We’re trying to live. We might travel, we might like going out, eating well, socialising, parenting or focusing on our career. But we are all trying to live. I a lot of the time I feel this pressure and constant worry; “am I experiencing enough?” “Am I doing enough?” “Are we making enough memories with Arthur? Are we good parents?” There’s a lot of pressure on everything. To be good and to boss everything. But I’m just trying to find the balance. I don’t know if I ever will. But I’ll always try.

Life takes a village. Parenthood takes a village. I’m trying not to beat myself up if I don’t always feel I’ve “done good at life”.

We’re all doing the same thing. So here we are. I’m trying to slowly blog and live and do everything else. It’s tough. It’s all tough. Stay tuned because I will try and write as much as I can. It’s something I enjoy and that’s important.

Love, Kate. X

So solo parenting, it’s hard!

So here I am. I don’t do it a lot. The most I’ve done is 4 days on my own. And when I say on my own, I have my family around me. Single parents? Hats off to you. There’s no partner/ husband/ wife/ to say; “I need to pee, hold the baby” or “please can you try settling them?” Or “I’m popping out can you watch the babe?” There’s no options. I mean there’s usually a friend, a grandma or grandpa, an auntie or uncle on hand to help. But there’s no other parent. It’s just you. Flying solo. Your usually on your own for the tough bits. For the nitty gritty bits.

I’m still totally winging it and to not have someone else there to reassure me or to check I’ve not forgotten something, it’s hard. Life is hard on your own if you ask me. Sometimes it’s nice to be on your own. Sometimes, for me, I need people. You need back up. A back up parent is good. So you can pee, you can drink a warm cup of tea, maybe even take a cheeky nap if you like. Carrying round a heavy baby is hard on your body and your mind.

Being a parent is wonderful but it’s nice to tag someone else in when you need a helping hand. I mean it’s not wrestling, but sometimes you do feel like your wrestling when your 9 month old doesn’t want their nappy changed. An extra set of hands with that giant explosive, looks like vindaloo poop, definitely doesn’t go amiss. When you’ve sat down on the sofa for the first time all day you forget your drink, the babe sleeps and your left wondering if your going to turn into dust your so dehydrated. Hands, they help. People, extra parents, their good.

So those doing it alone all the time? You’re doing an amazing job. You’re are doing the hardest job known to man, on your own. You’re a friggin superhero! I always feel a pang of “Mum guilt” when I put on those annoying pigs. A pang when I nap instead of doing stuff. A pang when we spend the day inside again. A pang when I get frustrated because, if your tired go to sleep?! (Babies are weird) A pang when I’ve got out the pouch instead of cooking myself. Sometimes the pants come all day. Sometimes they don’t come at all. But on your own everything is that little bit harder. So we all feel like a rubbish parent every now and again, but it your doing it flying solo, I think your awesome every damn day.

We are trying our best, what more can you do? We are all winging it and giving it out best shot. Whether you have an army or a imaginary friend, we are all doing our best. But when your solo, it really makes your appreciate those who are going it alone day in and day out. Definite hats off to you guys.

So when I’m trying to boss parenthood on my own, yeah sometimes, peppa comes on. Sometimes I nap. Sometimes we stay inside. Sometimes the most activity we do is singing, and playing. Sometimes the dummy has to come out even when it’s not time to sleep (woah, ca-Ray-zeee) but oh well. Arthur will survive. I don’t think peppa has subliminal messaging in it. I don’t think napping will do us any harm. I don’t think inside is always that bad; “inside good, outside badddd”. Singing and playing; it’s fun! Dummies are a wonderful invention. I can think of a few adults who could use a dummy from time to time…

So if you need a helping hand with parenting, if you need to wing it and do what you got to do to get by, oh well. I am totally somebody who is pro asking for help, pro doing what you got to do. Pro winging life, motherhood, asking to advice, taking naps, eating chocolate. Pro. All the pros.

Stay tuned for another on peeps.

Love, Kate. X

So almost ten months in, it might be time to start looking after myself a bit more.

So here I am. My back hurts from carrying my Little A everywhere. Maybe I need to start doing more exercise, more stretching, yoga, to help my body. My bloated belly, maybe I need to lay off the white bread now. Start to eat better, like I used too. Start to put more time into my meals, snacks, not just food for my little man. It’s time, I’m going to do it, I’ve already started and I’m sticking to it.

I think my skin will benefit. My tummy will hopefully benefit. I might be able to get back some of my stomach muscles. It might help my mood (always a massive plus for me). My time has come to start thinking about me a little bit. In order to look after my mini dude, in order to have the most energy. Exercise is good. I like exercise. I like good, nice food.

I’ve sort of forgotten that. I’ve sort of forgotten me. Who I was before. The healthy (ish) me. I’m still healthy (ish) but I could be healthier. I could put more effort in. For myself. And for Arthur. It’s weird isn’t it? When you have a baby you think, what did I do before? What did I have for lunch before? Did I really look like that pre baby? How didn’t I see I was healthy? I thought my belly was big! Well, it is now…

It’s weird. They become your whole life and then you forget what your life was before. I’m staying away from the scales and instead going to focus on what I see in front of me. And how I feel. I’m hoping I’ll feel less tired, that my skin will improve, I’ll bloat less and just feel generally better. Of course it’s a process, of course sometimes I know me, and I know sometimes I’m going to just say “sod that, where’s the chocolate?”. But it’s gotten to the point now where I’m ready for change, I’m ready to feel better.

Something I know that’s important too is maintaining good mental health. Soon I’m going back to work, and I’ll soon be reducing my antidepressants. I’m scared. I’m scared about the change, I’m scared about how anxious I already feel. But no matter how many times I think “eurgh I really don’t want to go outside today, I don’t want to do any exercise” as soon as I do, my mood feels better. Just taking a walk and taking deep breaths; it really helps me.

My favourite place is walking along the beach or in the countryside. Plus it’s free, so that’s always a bonus. I’ve said this before but I don’t want to go back. I don’t think I’m ever going to be 8 and half stone, flat stomach pre pregnancy me. But I don’t want to go back. I just want to be me now. But a healthier version of me. I want to live a long live so I can be like Beverley Goldberg and try and get hugies from Arthur for a very very long time.

So here I am, here I go. Stay tuned for another one guys.

Love, Kate. X

P.s here’s me after just completing my first “run” from couch to 5k…