I've had two breaks in my life. The first came a year after my daughter died. I feel like the guilt and grief took hold of me, and it was inevitable that, at some point, I would break. It started with hearing her. She was very ill so it didn't sound like a normal baby's cry. Then, I kept feeling like I was pregnant again. It even felt like my milk was coming back in. I'd start to see her in every baby I saw. Then the paranoid thoughts began, and I would panic that she was buried but not dead. I'd sleep at her grave. I ended up spending 3 days in a mental health facility. I didn't follow up with any aftercare and was never offered any counselling or bereavement therapy. This was 22 years ago.
The second break came when I was pregnant 7 years after my daughter died. I can remember hearing whispers that she wasn't going to survive and that I was never meant to be a mum. Then, I would see shadows moving towards me. I would run to work to stop them from getting me. Eventually, I couldn't leave my room at all. I locked myself in my room for 5 days before my family got doctors and police to remove me. I was hospitalised in a mental health ward for 9 weeks. I can remember not even knowing how to speak or eat. It was like my mind had shattered entirely under the weight of my grief and guilt. I was too frightened to accept I was pregnant in case she would die, too. It took years of intense therapy to recover. I was given bereavement counselling as well. This was life-changing. It helped me realise I was a good mum and never left her side. I wasn't to blame for her death.
I carried so much shame, guilt and grief. Never talk to anyone about it. It crushes a person in unimaginable ways. It's changed my perception of grief and mental health.
The second break came when I was pregnant 7 years after my daughter died. I can remember hearing whispers that she wasn't going to survive and that I was never meant to be a mum. Then, I would see shadows moving towards me. I would run to work to stop them from getting me. Eventually, I couldn't leave my room at all. I locked myself in my room for 5 days before my family got doctors and police to remove me. I was hospitalised in a mental health ward for 9 weeks. I can remember not even knowing how to speak or eat. It was like my mind had shattered entirely under the weight of my grief and guilt. I was too frightened to accept I was pregnant in case she would die, too. It took years of intense therapy to recover. I was given bereavement counselling as well. This was life-changing. It helped me realise I was a good mum and never left her side. I wasn't to blame for her death.
I carried so much shame, guilt and grief. Never talk to anyone about it. It crushes a person in unimaginable ways. It's changed my perception of grief and mental health.