What Katy Writes

Reid and I with 10 week old Isaac I've touched on this topic a few posts back, I wasn't sure if I felt comfortable posting about it in too much detail - but I've decided to once again be open about how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking and what a difficult time I'm having trying to decide if I will ever have another baby. I had an appointment with my psychiatrist this week (he is wonderful, I absolutely wouldn't have gotten through the past year without him), and he asked me point blank "are you going to have another baby?"  His questioning was mostly do with the medication side of things, the weaning process, what I would feel comfortable taking while trying to conceive, then after conception - all that medical stuff, but we both know it's a much deeper question than that.  Isaac is nearly 15 months old now - the questions and comments started long ago: "he needs a play mate" "wait until you have two to run around after...

I know I am prone to being a bit of a negative Nancy (the beginning of this post sounds like that's what I'm going to be; but try to stick with me).  It's something I try really hard to work on every day.  Some days, she wins - other days, I win; and some days, reality hits me so hard in the face I just can't believe how self-centred I can be.  I talk about my struggles with mental health and motherhood and they are real and incredibly difficult for me.  Then I read stories and know the absolute heartache and hurt that our world is filled with.  War, poverty, domestic violence, disease, terrorism, infertility; the list goes on.  There come times when I realise I need to take a step back and appreciate all the things I do have.  A home, family, food - basic necessities for safety and survival at my fingertips.  Things I often don't give a second thought to.  I know I have struggled with lots of things...

Will it ever leave?  This nagging feeling that I am a bad mother.  That I am a bad person.  That PND will always be with me.  My cross to bear.  My load to carry forever.  I know that I love Isaac with all my heart and soul, but will it ever be enough?  Will it ever make up for the fact I didn't want to exist in those early days?  That sometimes, I still miss my old life. Isaac has been so unwell on and off for the last few months, the last ten days were Isaac's first experience of gastro. I have held him and cleaned so much vomit, lost count of how many times I changed the sheets on his cot, washed a million loads of towels, barely slept, changed a million nappies (let's just say things were rarely contained to the nappy...).  I have worried myself sick, desperate to know what I'm doing, to feel confident in my abilities to make him feel better, to make him feel like I have things under control.  Things are so, not unde...

One year on.  Isaac is one.  One year old.  I can't really believe it.  Although he is certainly a one year old; walking and chatting and laughing and playing.  Crying when he doesn't get his way, getting frustrated with his limited communication capabilities.  Tantrums have started, I know they will only get more intense over the next year or two especially.  My love for this little boy knows no bounds, but the hard days still overwhelm me.  The sickening, anxious dread is still fairly constant.  The fear of public places lessens when I'm with people I trust but I can still barely take Isaac for a walk to the end of our street by myself, let alone any further.  Trying to hone in on the exact source and reason for this anxiety is something I'm working really hard on with my psychiatrist and psychologist.   My mind is a cruel place.  It sends shadows over perfect days, brings tears for seem...

These days with you are ever-changing.  Cuddling, playing, feeding, crying, stressing, laughing, growing.  We are both growing.  You have evolved before my very eyes.  You were a tiny, curled up newborn, permanently attached to me.  Those days with you were the hardest.  I was not myself.  These days with you are different.  You are a little boy, crawling and taking steps and growing taller and stronger by the minute.  I am grateful for every second of every day with you, even when it may seem like I am not.  These days with you are not perfect.  I expected perfection from myself, perfection from your Dad, perfection as a family.  Perfection may not exist - but love; well, we could not love you more if we tried.  These days with you are hard work.  I get tired and you get grumpy and I don't always make the right decisions.  I hold you tight and wipe your tears and pray ...

Life changes so quickly.  Priorities can become fleeting memories depending on your circumstances. We are only three weeks into a new year and for this year and every year, I feel like my priorities are to simply spend as much time as humanly possible with those who mean the most to me.  Is there really anything more?  I want to be here to raise my son.  I want to support my husband.  I want to hang out with my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephew.  I want to make time for those friends who have stood by Reid and I throughout the difficult year we just faced.  It looks like there could be significant difficulties in the year ahead as well.  Hopefully a lot of joy as well.  We are truly blessed to be surrounded by wonderful people, our families and close friends are truly so important to us.    I have spent a lot of my life being busy.  Busy with school and casual work and sp...

Right now as I write this, I am looking up at my baby boy happily playing on his own.  So immersed in his own little world, curiously turning the pages of his books, chewing on his Lego, crawling to his teddy bears and staring at them intently.  I would love to know what is running through his brain, how much he is learning when I am not present.  I have learned some hard lessons over the last week, it's probably been the hardest yet one of the most rewarding weeks of my life - I asked for help.  I really, truly, seriously needed help.  As Mums (most Mums I know anyway), we like to think we have it all under control, that we always know what's best - there is an inherent Mum sense that will always be able to tell what our baby wants and needs.  I think that's true to a point, but there is also a time when we need to accept that things aren't as they should be, that things could be better and maybe you can't do it alone.  That maybe it's ...