Yesterday, my local Maternal Health Nurse called me up to see how I was doing and whether I needed to come in. She’d come across my file and was reminded about my last check up (with Riley).
You see, last time, I did the Edinburgh Scale Test for new mums and my score wasn’t so good. Which meant I was at risk for Post Natal Depression (PND)
After that, during a particularly bad week, I did the same test with my GP and got an even higher score. So, I was referred to a state government scheme which provides free in-home counselling for cases like this.
(SURPRISE! Family, who have no idea about this…….)
Anyway, before you all think I’m borderline inmate, I don’t have ‘depression’ as such, I have ‘anxiety’. Which are usually lumped together, and have some similarities, but are also chemically and psychogically different. To most. But I’m no expert.
But that can wait for a different post.
Anyway, the call was funny because today was my meeting with my counsellor, a wonderful woman named Lisa. It had been a few weeks. And, in response to her question how I was doing, I feel much better. Mostly, my anxiety is twofold. My general anxiety was tonnes better; with my kids I have good days and bad.
I explained to her a scenario. I hold Riley in the bath. The other night, because he’s getting so strong, he lurched forward and his face hit the water before I could stop it. He was fine; I pulled him back and he spluttered a bit and that was that. But in my head, it automatically visits “What Could Have Been”. And stays there. For ages. And as such, my stomach clenches and I feel physically ill. And I have to block it out.
She nodded and said (To paraphrase), “I can understand that. To be honest, I think any mother in the same situation would’ve felt the same. I guess what we have to think about here is if your response, to you, was really more ‘self-blameful’ or ’emphatic’ than what another’s would be”.
Which is a good question. And I have no idea.
I hope the above made sense. Bottom line is: I’m a worrier. I worry for the sake of worrying and I worry about the kids. The second is understandable. Perhaps the first is ‘overkill’.
