When I was critically unwell with postnatal depression and anxiety, I spent some time on a generic adult psychiatric ward.
As a new and vulnerable first-time mother, this was an exceptionally challenging environment in which to find myself during one of the most difficult and daunting periods of my life. Happily, a bed became available on Andersen Ward, the Mother & Baby Unit at Wythenshawe Hospital, and when I made the transition there with my baby son, my recovery journey began.
I can't overstate the the difference between life on a psychiatric ward and life on an MBU. The psychiatric ward was a frequently noisy, chaotic, disorienting place, days and nights punctured by the shriek of alarms in response to constant crises. On the psychiatric ward, I was pumped with adrenaline, forever on my guard. My sole focus there was survival. When I moved to the MBU, I was at last able to breathe.
An MBU looks nothing like your typical hospital ward. It's cosy and low-octane, not unlike a home environment with the additional reassurance of a full team of experienced staff on hand for support around the clock. During my early days on Andersen, access to this team equipped me with the vital confidence I needed in caring for my child.
As we are often told, babies don't come with instruction manuals. I was prepared for a level of unpredictability. What I wasn't prepared for was the terror of caring for my indescribably helpless, fragile infant with zero idea of what I was actually doing. The overwhelming barrage of advice and opinions from family and books written by so-called parenting experts was more a hindrance than a help. The scatter-bomb of adverts for endless baby products on my social media filled me, alternately, with feelings of inadequacy and rage.
Intrusive thoughts sound like frightening clinical symptoms indicative of serious disorder – yet I think it is entirely natural, albeit hugely distressing, to be plagued with ideas of how quick and easy it would be to inflict damage on your baby. For me, these thoughts spiralled into terrifying mental imagery. At home, I was constantly primed for disaster, which seemed never more than seconds away. I couldn't nap when baby napped – the house was bathed in bright summer sunshine, mercilessly spotlighting my domestic disarray. At night, I was afraid to sleep – easier to stay awake than to be jolted, bewildered, from uneasy dreams to my baby's insistent, piercing wail.
When my baby developed bronchiolitis on the MBU, I was able to immediately have him checked by a doctor. When he cried, disconsolate, in the night, a lovely nurse helped me raise his mattress at an angle to allow him to breathe a little easier. When I myself broke down after the funeral of my granddad, that same nurse offered comfort and the medication I needed at the time to calm my frazzled nerves.
It's not just about the staff. The whole environment of an MBU is designed to re-establish a sense of normality and control. On Andersen Ward, each day brought with it a gentle routine. I was fully responsible for the care of my little boy, changing and feeding him, taking him out for short walks, and playing with him in the living-room area and the baby sensory-room. When he napped, I was able to read, journal, watch TV; sometimes there was baking, or craft activities. We did baby massage classes, and a group even went swimming at a local leisure-centre. MBUs have only a small number of rooms to ensure peace and calm for babies and mums, and during my stay on the unit, mums formed strong, mutually supportive bonds. I found that despite differences in age, race and background, we shared an instinctive, wordless understanding. There was also never pressure to socialise or 'fit in', and my room was a safe retreat whenever I felt in need of alone-time to recharge.
An encounter which particularly stands out in my memory was with the Occupational Therapist towards the end of my stay on the MBU. The OT really took the time to understand my individual circumstances – my family dynamics, home environment, my personality, idiosyncrasies, likes and and dislikes, worries and concerns as well as my hopes and aspirations for the future. She emphasised that on my return home, the aim was to find a balance which worked for the whole family unit – myself included. It may sound a small or obvious thing, but to me, at the time, this was revelatory – in the early months as mums, we are by necessity often subsumed caring for our little ones, but it's crucial to try carving out time for ourselves, and above all, to remember (and to truly believe) that a happy mum equates a happy baby.
I would encourage anybody embarking on their journey at Seren Lodge to embrace it as a fresh beginning. I credit the precious bond I now enjoy with my son to the excellent, holistic care I received on Andersen Ward, which was my island in a storm.
By Helix Expert by Experience Fiona