Hiding in plain sight.

Hiding in plain sight

waiting for the next wave,

the next tremor.

Hiding in plain sight 

watching the house of cards tumble

as the focus is lost.

Hiding in plain sight

listening to the water

as it falls earthbound.

Hiding in plain sight

wondering what will come next

and what will be after that.

I'm a little overwhelmed this week, too many highs and too many lows (can it really only be Wednesday?) Bear with me, I'll be back in a little while.

30 Days of Truth - Day 28

Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?

While I was in uni, I think I would have had a termination. A baby wasn't in my 5 year plan and as such I used contraception and it would have been a true "accident".

After we got married - we waited six years before we felt that we were in the right space to have a child. However had we fallen pregnant, I would have had a minor freak out and then gotten on with life.

Now, I think I would be in freak out mode for a week or so and then I would get onto creating a network of support and trying to cover all eventualities with regards worse case scenarios of post natal depression. I would buy my mom an open ended ticket so that we would have more hands on support.

Monkey and I would spend more time doing the things he loves and I would try to prepare him for the way his life would change... And Stud1 and I would have a baby-moon... and at least one night alone away from Monkey so that he is able to cope with the inevitable hospital stay.

Of course if I were to get someone pregnant I would sell the story to the highest bidder, keep the film rights and be on the cover of People Magazine!

30 Days of Truth - Day 26

Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?

Yes. Twice.


The first time was in Uni - second year. I was nineteen. I was, in retrospect, suffering from depression. I had a bad placement in a school that was not a good fit for me. This caused major stress and doubt about my chosen career and course.

I also had had contact for the first time from my father's family in twelve years. They initiated the contact, dumped an awful amount of information on me and made allusions to wanting to be part of my life. It opened up an awful number of old wounds and doubts. It also introduced  guilt as if I were betraying my mom but wanting to know more about the other side of my family.

All in all I think I had a bit of a nervous breakdown. The uni was awesome and the psychology lecturer helped me a lot. I was given a new school and LOVED it. They also gave me a week off and helped me get home so that I could go see my GP and be with my family.

I, once again, cut ties with my father's side of the family and I have only recently started communicating with them again.

The Res-Rats rallied by me and my first experience of the twilight zone left me stronger. I got to the stage of wanting the emotional pain to stop, but luckily I was so loved that I didn't feel the need to take any drastic steps. It took a while but I got there.

It's especially important that I thank Stud1 for being there for me back then and that he's still here!

The second time was in the early stages of Post Natal Depression... Here and here are posts I have written about this previously.

More from the Twilight Zone and future fears

I was thinking recently about how it used to be for me when Monkey was little. A lot of my friends are having their second baby and I am getting the peer pressure from all sides now. Even from Monkey himself. And sometimes I would like another little one but then I remind myself of the blurry first year.


It is hard to remember exactly what it was like and how it really was for me, us. It truly is all a blur to me. I can honestly say all my memories of his first year are blurred around the edges like someone used a focal tool in GIMP, it's like tunnel vision focusing on his face or Stud1's.

I remember the 10pm, 12am, 2 am , 4am, 6am feeds especially the ones when I would try to follow the advice of others and not co-sleep and feed. I remember falling asleep with him in my arms and waking up and feeling like I was a terrible mother for not knowing he'd finished feeding. It was a horrible time. I loved him but hated myself for not being able to do all the things I was supposed to be able to do and for doing those I could.

• Let him cry - he'll sort himself out in 3 days - I tried for an hour - he cried for the next 11 and I couldn't take him into his room without a panicked scream and arching back for the next two weeks.
• Don't feed him to sleep - impossible if your child won't settle any other way and the sound of him crying makes you physically ill.
• Don't co-sleep - co-sleeping was the only way I could get him to sleep for longer periods of time. To this day his nap in the day is co-sleeping
• Don't let others make you feel inadequate as a mother... Said the person who had just spent the last half an hour telling me it was all my fault that my child was not sleeping the required 18 hours a day.
• Don't let him move so much, it's not good for his joints -  he was moving all by himself, I couldn't stop him if I tried. He was happiest standing and cruising.

This self doubt and fear is what dominates when I think of what it may be like with a second child. But added to this is the fear that by managing to get through it, I will completely blur out Monkey and he will be left on the outskirts while I manage.

He doesn't deserve that and I don't know if I can find my way out of it a second time....

Coffee and Post Natal Depression (PND)

When little Monkey was born he didn't know the meaning of sleep. He was alert, happy and active. He was pretty much everything a text book newborn isn't. And that is a trend that has continued through to today.  He provides me with daily challenges which is a character trait rather than a flaw. And I, now, love that about him but back in the dark days, I could barely cope.

I have many good friends but they all have their own lives and many had babies just a few months/weeks older than Monkey. Stud1 had just gotten a promotion and had to prove himself at work. All of this is/was understandable to me (even at 3am after hourly wakes and feeds from 6pm.) But understanding it didn't help what I now can see was PND. It was what I will call my twilight zone.

But I managed...

I managed to love Monkey with all my heart which is something I will be eternally grateful for.

I managed not to smother him when he woke hourly for three months.

I managed not to shake him when he woke two hourly for five months.

I manage not to drive my car under a truck the way I wanted to so that someone (anyone) would notice that I wasn't coping.

I managed to keep my marriage alive

I managed to smile

I managed to fool everyone.

People thought I was coping, they (Stud1 included) thought I was doing a great job on three hours sleep with a baby who was moving from 3 months. I drank coffee as a reward for a good night, as a way to regain some feeling of normalcy.

But I couldn't. I felt like I was stuck in a box and no-one could hear or see me. I went to my GP who said that I needed to get more sleep otherwise I would end up losing my husband (helpful advice - yes?) but couldn't help me get that sleep. I went to the local childcare nurse and she said she would refer me to a support group. A year into my twilight zone I finally got some help. Anne will always be my hero, for letting me talk about everything for hours on end and for letting me know that I was doing a good job.

But as time went on, and I still didn't feel like myself, I saw another GP and she suggested counselling. It helped and I am finally 2 and a half years into Monkey's life feeling like myself. I can honestly say that my PND hasn't had any obvious effect on him and I am thankful for that everyday!

Now how does coffee fit into this whole drama? Other than contributing to normalcy and occasionally exacerbating insomnia?

Coffee Group 

We met by going to antenatal classes together. We started meeting in the early days so that we had some where to go to see another adult and know that they had some idea of what was going on in our lives.

After a few teething problems (lol) we are now a group of seven very different mums with seven very different two year olds and few under ones, who meet weekly (sometimes more) for a chat over a beverage of choice while our hooligans run wild.

We are seven mums who are for the most part have no family nearby, one Canadian, one American, one from up North, one from down South, one from South Africa, one whose mum has sadly passed and one who is lucky to have family living locally. We have an understanding of how it is to be mums without family support and have become a very close sisterhood because of that.

We are friends now because of our babies and coffee!