3 Weeks On

It's 3 weeks since my surgery.  I developed an infection in my stitches, and stubbornly refused help, as I felt that I had brought it on myself - which is absolutely true.  Eventually my MH social worker dragged me (almost literally) into Minor Injuries and found someone to look at the mess on my wrist.  Again, no harshness, no nasty glances, just gentle words and reassurance that it was ok to be there.  The infection has cleared now, just a slightly red scar now.   I wish I could say that was the end of it all.  But still, I dwell on self harm many times a day.  I wish I knew why?  I wish it wasn't like that.  I suppose it is my way of coping with the images and pictures that are flashing through my mind, the thoughts and feelings that they provoke - and the anger which they raise within me - though I direct it on myself, as I don't know what else to do with it. 


No2 son has been incredibly challenging for the last few weeks.  He is medicated for ADHD, but they only see the benefit of it at school.  It has worn off by the time he gets in, and in the unstructured setting of the weekend, he is as hyper as ever.  I think it is the feeling of utter helplessness that I find hardest - it doesn't matter what strategies I try to employ (distraction / bribery etc) he does not respond.  He is locked in that autistic state where he is the only one who matters, who has feelings and who has needs.  He doesn't care about how others feel as a result of his words or actions.  When he is being violent to me it is bad enough, but it is so hard for his siblings to bear the brunt of his physical behaviour.  I wish that there was a pill to take away all his problems, but then, maybe he wouldn't be the boy he is now?  I don't know. 


It all feels a bit overwhelming today.  

I haven't posted on this for a while - I have been battling the black dog which has followed me round for more than half my life. I want to write to my youngest child and have been thinking about how best to go about it - what to say, what to leave unsaid.

My Darling Small Boy

With your blond curls and blue eyes, you are truly the apple of my eye. I did not know, when I was told more than 5 years ago, that you were on your way, what a difference you would make to our lives. We thought our family was complete - we had a little boy and a little girl, what more could we want? We had returned from a lovely family holiday in Spain, only to find out we had brought back something much more substantial than a cheap t shirt or tacky ornament! You were not planned and somewhat of a shock - however, there was no question that you were more than welcome and we soon adjusted to the idea of having 3 children and being a family of 5. I did have some dark moments while you were growing inside me - I feared that I could not cope with another child, I was in pain - the pregnancy was putting a huge strain on my back, I could hardly walk by the time were due. I worried that you would not love me, that you would reject me, knowing that you had been born to an inferior person. You were delivered by Caesarean Section, in a planned surgery. As they pulled you out, the doctor shouted "It's a...." and I said "BOY!" "yes" he said - "I thought you didn't find out?" "We didn't" I said. I had known from about 22 weeks that you were going to be a boy - I felt the same way as when I was carrying your big brother, which was totally different from how I felt carrying your sister. We had decided on a boy name, but when we saw you, we hesitated, so you were Baby P for the first day, whilst we chatted and decided what suited you best. The name we chose in the end, suits you down to the ground.

When we got home a few days after your birth, you were greeted by banners across the house - your big brother and sister had been kept very busy by your adoring Nana! They were so surprised when we walked in the door - I hadn't told them you were coming home, so we were able to really make them jump! Your big brother was absolutely smitten from the word go - you had (and still do have most of the time) his undying love and affection. Your big sister (who was only just 3 at the time) was a little more reserved. "I asked for a girl baby" she said, as she turned her nose up at you! However you soon won her round and she spent many hours entertaining you under the baby gym. We were only home for 24 hours, before we were back in hospital - taken by ambulance with blue lights flashing, in a very scary experience. You stopped breathing - twice. You went blue round the lips - I can honestly say I have never been so frightened - and there have been times that I have been really scared. We spent a week back in hospital, were you were prodded and poked and they tested every part of you to check what was going on. They decided that your lungs were immature and that where you had been delivered early, by section, that you were simply "forgetting" to breath. That week was a long one - just you and me in a side room - however, it gave us a time to bond, which we would probably never have had, if we had been at home. We had an amazing moment, when you decided that I should feed you, we were lying on the bed, having skin to skin time, when all of a sudden, you were latched on! You had been bottle fed for the first few days of your life, I had not planned to feed you myself as I was going back on medication, however you had other ideas! From that day on, I fed you myself. You were an amazingly easy baby - you slept well, fed well, were quite placid - all the things your siblings weren't! People commented on the bond we had - you were definitely a mummy's boy! (and I was very happy about that! ) I really enjoyed your baby months - we went to Mother & Toddler group - something I never managed with the other 2. I finally felt that I had got it right - you thrived, you fitted right in with the family and joined in with whatever we were doing with not too much hassle! How I adored you, you were the easiest baby of the 3 and I loved having you. I even thought that I would like 1 more baby to even things up! However it was not to last.

It became evident that things were slightly different for you. As you learned to walk and talk, you became very independent, though you struggled with tasks, you would fight me to do things yourself. I thought it was cute to start with - but as the months and years went on, I realised all was not well. You didn't understand the clues - I could frown at you, it would make no difference to your behaviour - I would smile, no response. You found changes to our routine hugely difficult, and you would have frequent meltdowns - no matter where we were.

I went back to work when you were 13 months old - I am sorry. I should have stayed home with you. You went to the nursery at my place of work - I could see you through my window - you were not happy there at all. They did not understand you, and made no effort to. We lasted 10 months before we moved you to the nursery your siblings had loved. You still cried every morning (up until the day you left) but were a bit more settled there. The staff commented how you would stick with them, not joining in with the other children, always playing on the outside of their groups. The clues were there. We are still waiting for your diagnosis, but they suspect some kind of autism. I am sorry darling, I feel I let you down. Time I should have been working on your development was spent dragging round hospital appointments - you were so familiar with the Mental Health department you greeted the staff by their first names. The Pain Clinic was a regular stop for us, my mobility was by now seriously impaired & I could no longer walk unaided. You missed out on so much because of my health - I could no longer lift you, so going to the park was not an option if your big brother was not around to put you on the swings, or help you up the slide. I am sorry. You spent hours upstairs whilst the Crisis Team helped me get through another day - I didn't want to leave you, but it was so hard to keep going. I am so sorry sweetie, I love you so much - even with all your difficulties you are a loving and affectionate child. You are at school now, but what your class mates don't know is that I bring your blankie in the car, and you suck your thumb & snuggle your blankie all the way home. You struggle with your clothes - but actually, I don't mind dressing you, because you throw your arms round my neck as I pull your trousers on, and you kiss my cheek as I put your t shirt over your head.

My gorgeous boy, I would go to the ends of the earth for you. You may not have been planned, but my goodness you are loved.

Mummy xxxxxxx

Wednesday 17th February 2010

I decided to be organised today. No lounging around with the children arguing in the background. We would go out. I booked tickets to the film club at the cinema, where you can see a recent, but not new film, for £2 per child with the adults going free. We made sandwiches, the 11 O clock start dictates that lunch must be eaten in the cinema. Crisps were emptied into plastic boxes, sandwiches cut into bite size pieces, there would be no rustling from our seats.

We arrived with minutes to spare - the cinema was in chaos. The electronic pre paid ticket dispensers were out of order *shock horror* the foyer was swarming with anxious parents, hurrying their offspring into various queues to get the much prized tickets. We were lucky, I spotted a short queue, and we made a dash for it - well no 1 son did - I trailed behind with the other 2.

We found our seats and within seconds the titles began. No 2 son, who is 3, is becoming so much better with public outings. He sat temporarily on his own seat, then transferred to my lap for the rest of the film. It was rather nice to hold his warm little person close, to have his sweet round face buried in my shoulder at a scary bit. He sucked his thumb and twirled my hair between his fingers - his beloved blankie being left at home. Sitting there, listening to his breathing, feeling the closeness between us, reminded me just how precious simple moments like these are. He begins school in September, and going on my experience of the older 2, our relationship will change then, for ever.

I thought of No 1 , and the haze of post natal depression which was his first year. A time when I came so close to killing us both. I can't believe that those thoughts ever visited my mind, but they did. Just as I emerged from the fog, I was expecting again. I felt absolutely ecstatic as they delivered my baby - I had never ever verbalised my desire to have a daughter, but there she was, perfect. After the trauma of PND first time round, I was watched like a hawk, medicated before delivery, not allowed to breast feed, my daughter and I spent many months before bonding. But No 2 son, a gift sent when we thought our family was complete, a gift to take away the demon of PND, to show me motherhood in a whole new light - and 3, nearly 4 years down the line, I can still revel in the power of a cuddle.

In fact, I could not tell you what the film was called, or what it was about. I was totally preoccupied with my children and the feelings that I have for each of them. All very different, very evocative, but totally absorbing. This overwhelming and all consuming love for them is on occasions a source of deep conflict for me- when depression and anxiety eat away at the mind & soul, when self doubt and insecurity creep in and undermine my whole being.

Walking out in the bright sunshine, with smiles all over their faces, we headed home, where they have laughed, cried, fought and played the afternoon away.