My very personal experience with postnatal depression

My follow-up article on mental health and depression was going to be a factual one with more stats and information that might help. However, I was asked by a few men how did I know I was suffering from depression, what was the turning point? A few wondered if I went through the same thing with both children. They are new fathers experiencing low points and wondering why. 

That got me thinking about a few comments from my last article stating 24 of the 25 men are much happier after having children and can’t understand why new fathers would be unhappy. 

From all the positive and supportive comments I received, it was these few that played on my mind the most and I found myself getting a little worked up by it. 

I’m not really sure why it bothered me so much. Please don’t think I want everyone to experience some form of depression - I’m really happy for them and hope they don’t. In the end, I wondered if it was their ignorance that bothered me..?! I always thought I was not the judgemental type but that’s exactly what I did; I judged them for voicing their opinion and I feel really bad. 

Anyway, with that in mind, I decided to share more about my experience than focusing on stats to help put things into perspective because I was one of the 24 in 25 men that don’t suffer from depression but then life changed and I was the 1 in 25 that do. 

After the birth of my first child, I felt as if I was the happiest man alive. The feeling of watching your child enter the world was just amazing and one of the humblest experiences of my life. To say I loved every minute was an understatement. Every opportunity I got I’d want to hold her, play with her, talk to her, look at her and take it all in. I’d worry about blinking because I didn’t want to miss a nanosecond of her life. But time was always short and I worked at a company which was tough, you had to prove your worth at every step and I worked long hours. I didn’t mind because I loved my job but I loved my child more. 

And I wasn’t just there for our child - I did everything I could to make sure my wife was comfortable. I’d wake up slightly earlier so my wife could either sleep a little more or do things like comb her hair or brush her teeth which, as most mothers will know, is a luxury after having a new baby. I would get everything ready for her before I left the house so her day was that much easier. Why? Because I loved everything about being a dad and was trying to be a good and supportive husband. 

There would be numerous times when I’d get home really late and find my wife cooking with one hand and a baby in the other. Trust me when I say rolling out chapatis when she fancied Indian with one hand is not an easy thing to do. 

So when the opportunity arose to take additional paternity leave because my wife was returning to work after 5 months, I grabbed it with both hands. I was prepared for how hard it was going to be because I saw my wife struggle but I knew how great it would be because my wife loved every minute. 

I had always been very involved, from the moment our pregnancy was confirmed and wanted children for a long time. It felt so natural; changing nappies, cleaning up vomit, etc... I had my moments and so did my daughter, believe me. Not every day was a dream come true! But I barely remember the bad days because there were so many good days. We’d also moved out of London during that time so living by the sea was fantastic and enough to put a smile on anyone’s face. 

The idea of having to go back to work was dreadful - I longed to stay at home but time was up and we both needed to work. 

But soon after, I wanted another child; I felt I had so much love to give, so much I wanted to do if I had another opportunity to have time off. Our daughter was 20 months when our son was born. I was really excited about the birth and again, really involved throughout the pregnancy. 

The night our son was born, my wife had been at work and finished her last shift before starting her maternity leave - she told me the labour started mid-morning. We waited till the very last moment and within an hour of arriving at the hospital, our son was born. 

During the birth, my wife lost a lot of blood and had to be rushed off for scans. With the chaos, I didn’t get any skin-to-skin contact which I personally feel is important for bonding with a new born. 

My wife, as a doctor, was careful about radiation and exposing our son to it so we got ourselves a private room, moved the beds to the opposite corners of the room and she didn’t breastfeed for 48 hours so I did the feeding via a cup. This was child’s play compared to what other parents have to go through; I’m very aware of this. I’m just trying to rationalise what was going on at the time. 

While my wife was busy giving birth I was trying to lighten the mood and making jokes, laughing, keeping spirits high. I was in a great mood. Within the hour, it changed. Something seem to ‘unclick’; I wasn’t happy anymore. I couldn’t figure it out. I kept telling myself I must be happy, I must get back in the room emotionally, I must stop working (yes, I was still on email and went into the office for half a day because I felt that would be better than facing what I was going through - work at that point was not a passion but a necessity, an escape). 

After giving myself a good talking to, I put a smile on my face, got hands on and went through the motions. Did I enjoy it? No. Did I want to feel happy? God yes, more than anything. We had picked a name for him years ago and so I thought things would change once I called him by his name and talk to others about him. But no; I just found myself faking the happiness I should have been feeling. Perhaps posting pictures on social media would help. I mean, who doesn’t like seeing baby pictures on Facebook and Instagram?! (Sorry to everyone I’ve annoyed over the years with way too many photos of my children!) Friends and family will naturally be forced to comment and send positive, happy messages; that will make me feel good. That didn’t work either. 

Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me? Why can’t I snap out of it? I took the 2-week paternity leave and was glad to be back at work. It was hell being at home. I needed to escape and needed to feel normal and feel I was good at something again. But the first few days were spent talking about my kids, the birth, how happy I must be given I was so excited, blah, blah, blah. This was not baby blues - the sleepless nights, etc did not bother me. 

Finally, having another baby was old news at work, or so I thought. Some of my colleagues were also returning to work after having babies and social etiquette suggests we should all talk about how deliriously happy we are and swap baby stories. I hated it. After a while, I started to avoid some of my colleagues, people I call my friends, just so I didn’t have to talk about children in the fear my mask would fall off and I will break down in tears. 

Fast forward and my son was 6 months, my wife had to return to work so I volunteered to take 6 months off. A small part of me was wanting to ensure I was fair to both my children, to ensure I gave him the same love, care, attention, opportunities my daughter got. I didn’t want to be accused of having a favourite. A huge part of me was hoping that spending more time with my son will help us bond, improve our relationship and improve my mood. 

I changed, big time! My job is to talk, to be happy, to be enthusiastic, to be passionate. Would you want to be recruited by someone who was not engaged, moody, angry? Would you be left with a positive image of the company you were walking into? Probably not! So I had to keep up the pretence. But at home, I was always stressed, angry, worried, moody, shouting all the time and when I wasn’t shouting, I was really quiet, disengaged, hardly spoke and when I did I would give shorter answers but without letting on something was wrong. I felt very low, anxious and irritable all the time.

A few weeks into my additional paternity leave, I realised I made the biggest mistake of my life. I found myself getting frustrated and at times left him in his bed to cry while I sat in a corner crying. We were back in London and in an environment I was familiar with. I also had a friend who had recently given birth and was off on maternity leave so thought it would be great in terms of play dates. That happened once. I really couldn’t face going outside but my daughter was in nursery twice a week so the only time I would leave the flat was to do the drop off and pick up – sometimes using emotional blackmail to get my wife to do it. 

Dark thoughts started to set in – I wanted it all to end. I wanted my life to end. I never made any plans to commit suicide (not that I can recall) but I definitely remember thinking how easy and better life would be for everyone if I took myself out of the equation. I recall thinking and wondering how it would feel if I died in various circumstances. Life was shit and I couldn’t understand why. I had a great wife, great children, a home, a great job. Everything was going well for me. 

There were many times when I felt ‘this is as good as it gets’ – this is how I will feel for the rest of my life. I hated that and thought something needs to be done. 

What happened? I went back to work after my time off and a couple of months in we moved out of London and I moved to a new company. I thought that would help – a positive change will do me a world of good. I found myself working for a company I absolutely loved and threw myself into it. I found my passion for work again and it felt great. I would work 24/7 consistently and I was thriving but slowly it was breaking us as a family and at times I thought I would lose everything. I avoided getting home on time. I tried leaving my job but the love for the company and the people I worked with kept me there for as long as it did. I avoided really connecting with my children. Even my relationship with my daughter which was pretty strong started to weaken and I didn’t know her anymore and she didn’t know me. To be honest, she hardly saw me so she didn’t care much (or so I thought). I felt like the loneliest man alive. I felt as if the world and everyone in it was against me.

The turning point? I’d like to believe it was the realisation my son was going to start school and I missed out on the best years and how hard my wife had worked to keep everything together. It was either keep working at a company I loved or remember that I’m lucky to have a loving family and I didn’t want to lose them. So I resigned and I stuck to it. It was painful but I knew I was doing the right thing. 

I managed to take 2 months off before I got itchy feet and took a contract role with a friend. But those 2 months were the best months I had in a long time. Again, not easy but the good outweighed the bad. Something shifted inside me and I felt good about being a stay-at-home dad. The great weather helped so we were out of the house a lot, planned activities and fancy lunches – my son and I connected like never before. I learnt so much about my son and he taught me so much more. I realised that seeing my children happy made me happy. My son has so much compassion, so much love and above all so much faith. I learnt that both my children need and want me around, love spending time with me. The dark thoughts started to lift. 

What did I learn about myself? Well, I’m still learning and it’s all work in progress. But I now know what my passion is, what excites me and why I get out of bed in the morning. My amazing family who I am incredibly lucky to have. Everything else – who cares! I have everything I need and I am excited about being at home and doing the boring things that most take for granted, like getting their breakfast ready, the school run, being a taxi driver for them, helping them with homework, bedtime routine. What have I gained? Well, to some degree, my sanity, courage to talk about my experience but more important, my family.

So going back to my point at the top, I was one of the 24 in 25 men that don’t suffer from depression but then life changed and I was the 1 in 25 that do. Bottom line, depression, anxiety, postnatal depression can and will hit you when you least expect it. I don’t have a history with mental health, it doesn’t run in the family, yet I suffered when I thought I was immune to it. 

For men, postnatal depression can be caused by a number of things. It could be bad pregnancy, watching your wife go through a difficult labour, worrying about the health of you wife or baby, added responsibility, changes in relationships, financial stress or changes in circumstances. 

The way postnatal depression manifests itself in men is very different - they lash out, get angry, avoid friends and family, paranoia, drinking more or changes in eating habits. For me, all of the above and I was pushing my limits in terms of exercise whilst reducing my food intake which ironically was a form of self harm. 

So what next? Have a 3rd baby! Only kidding. What needs to happen is more awareness, more support, more treatment. I strongly believe we need to create a safe, open and non-judgemental environment to allow people suffering from depression to talk and express their emotions. Above all, we need to listen; listen to the unspoken as well as the spoken. Ignore the ignorance, prejudice and judgement of others (if you can) and know you are not alone. 

For the dads (and mums) suffering from postnatal depression - hang in there because it definitely gets better. Be free to talk; talk to anyone but talk. If you need to cry then do it, just do it! I cried in a crowded cafe with a colleague whilst at work and it felt good. Just remember, you are not alone and we are here to support you. 

I would never have been so open about depression or shared by experiences so publicly but in an odd way, writing has been really cathartic. It’s helped me realise that it’s OK, to be proud of how far we’ve come as a family, how much I love my family and I want to live long enough to see my children succeed in life.

The comments I referred to made me wonder if I was foolish to have shared something so personal, but I am hoping by sharing my experience with postnatal depression, I’m hoping I can raise more awareness and encourage others to talk and seek the support they need. 

If you are feeling low or experiencing any of the above, seek advice from your GP. It may not be postnatal depression but I urge you to play it safe and get some support before it’s too late. 

For more information on depression and mental health, visit https://www.mind.org.uk/