`I had a brilliant pregnancy. In fact, I bloomed. I was delighted with myself during my pregnancy but I was terrified of the birth. I went 16 days overdue, which led to more anxiety. I went into labour myself one night when my waters broke. My husband, Sam, drove me the hospital in the early hours of the morning. I had a long labour. Eventually, it was decided that I would have a Caesarean section by epidural and I felt relieved by this, thinking that at least the baby would be born soon. I had a healthy baby girl. Naturally, was exhausted after the birth and I was aware of the "baby blues", but little did I know what lay ahead.
I just couldn't cope. I couldn't sleep. I was crying all the time. I was in a permanent state of panic. Physically, everything was fine but mentally I knew I needed help. I just wasn't like the other mothers going around changing and feeding their babies. I was terrified to hold Rachel or give her the bottle. I had no personal experience of depression before this. I felt I wasn't coping while I was in hospital after the birth, and I told the staff I needed help.
When I got home with Rachel, things got even worse. I contacted my GP, who recognised the symptoms of post-natal depression and recommended that I see a psychiatrist as soon as possible. An appointment was set up. This was on a Friday and my appointment was for the following Monday. I knew I couldn't wait until then so I called the doctor who had delivered Rachel. Within 24 hours, I was readmitted to the maternity hospital with Rachel, but there was still nobody to help me there. I also missed my appointment with the psychiatrist. I was just one big, crumpled-up mess. I felt, `please can somebody help me get out of this nightmare'.
Rachel was with me all this time because they didn't want to separate me from her. I was still terrified of her, although she was a very good baby. Everybody else was enjoying her but I was blocked off emotionally. The minute she cried, I flew into a panic.
After four or five days, I was sent home. The appointment to see the sychiatrist was made again and I was admitted to St Gabriel's nursing home inCabinteely the next day. While I was there, I saw the psychiatrist and was started on medication to treat my depression.
I shut myself away. I didn't talk. I didn't sleep without sleeping tablets. I didn't eat. I didn't want to see anybody or do anything. I was in the depths of depression. I was an in-patient for eight weeks but I don't remember much of it. I couldn't concentrate a lot of the time. I'd just sit and stare. People would talk to me and I'd forget what they said.My husband, Sam, was brilliant, as were my parents. In fact, Rachel has a pecial bond with my father because he was so good with her during all this time. Everybody said to me, you'll be grand but really, I think, they couldn't believe what was happening.
When I got home, I tried to cope. I would go over to my parents' house, and they would call over to me but I really wasn't great. Sam's parents would also call over during the day. For the next few weeks, I struggled on. When Rachel was six months old, I started her in a creche three afternoons a week. I never felt guilty about leaving her there initially, but I was so depressed I was unable to look after my own child. The staff in the creche were lovely, and in fact she's still there. They've been brilliant.
During all this time, I was literally surviving from hour to hour. It was a disaster, and I was terrified to be with Rachel on my own. I thought `I'm never going to get better. My life is over. I wish I were dead.' I didn't want to see anyone. I slept a lot and cried a lot. At this stage, I was seeing a psychiatrist about once a month.
I had read books about post-natal depression and I'd say I read Mary Pigot's book, Coping with Postnatal Depression - Light at the End of the Tunnel (Columba Press) about 10 times. I can relate to every story in it in some way.
I was also worried about the long-term effects on Rachel and that I would not bond with her. Emotionally, I was drained. I was convinced that she loved everybody else more than me, and I wouldn't have blamed her. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, and we have a great relationship.
In June 1998, when Rachel was two-and-a-half, everything fell apart and I hit rock bottom again. I was desperate, and my thinking had become very irrational. I was hospitalised again in St John of God's, Stillorgan, for five-and-a-half months. The first three months were horrific and I can't remember big chunks of it. I was crying all the time and I stopped eating. After one particular crisis, my doctor was changed and I was put under Dr Siobhan Barry, who has been brilliant. Things have improved for me since I have been under Dr Barry's team, with the combination of a change in medication, ECT and cognitive therapy.After I was discharged, I was both delighted to get out and terrified to leave. It was coming up to Christmas and this time is still a haze to me. Since then I have attended anxiety management and parenting courses which have helped in my recovery.Now I go to Aware meetings, and I've met people who have been helpful. It's good to know there are people who know what you are talking about, and that you can be honest with. I still don't know why I got post-natal depression but I'm sure the hormonal changes in my body were a contributing factor.
As Rachel gets older I feel more confident with her. Despite this, my motivation isn't great at times. I'm afraid of crowds and I have to push myself to do everyday things. The mornings are the worst, and I still have terrible nightmares. But I know I have to get back out there and start living again.I nominated Sam for the Dad of the Year, and we won a trip to Disneyworld in Florida. I am still seeing Dr Barry and I know I can contact her if I need her."
In conversation with Sylvia Thompson