…Home is whenever I’m with you…

WOW, I can hardly believe I am sitting here writing this, after a long long time of complete silence on here. Where on earth do I start. I have, (we have) just about survived the first year and a half of a world wide pandemic, I have (me and Ash have) survived our first year and a half of marriage.

Ohh yeah and I have (me, Ash, Caleb & Daisy have) survived a second pregnancy during the Covid 19 pandemic including lock downs and 9 months to May ’21 to the amazing birth of our darling daughter, Penelope Jayne Munn.

What a bombshell hey! So I guess I am writing this post from a whole new perspective. I don’t really know where to start. Luckily, our wedding fell literally 4 weeks before the first lock down, which of course we are so lucky to have been able to celebrate with our friends and family but our ‘honeymoon period’ soon came crashing down.

Then we (the country and world) were plunged into a world of misery and almost solitary confinement, being only allowed in our immediate family ‘bubble.’ Which to say is small is an understatement. I only really have my Munn’s as my immediate family, and then, of course I have, my brothers’ Sam and Danny and Kayleigh my sister. But when you are as codependent on someone as me and my sister are, you can imagine lock downs being impossible almost. Especially when battling a life long, sincerely, severe and at times all consuming, mental health condition, that is
Bipolar Type 1.

If you have been on my page before and maybe even read some of my posts, you will know that I was diagnosed with Type 1 Bipolar Affective Disorder, when I was 11 years old. So for me to say this, I mean it; this isn’t a war story that is harder, more harrowing, more isolating and soul destroying than yours. These are simply my experiences during the
Covid ’19 pandemic and maybe they aren’t too dissimilar to yours.

The start of the pandemic, for all of us, was tough! literally went months without seeing my sister, Kayleigh; my rock. To say we are codependent on each other would be a massive understatement. To the point where we started Facetiming each other maybe once or twice a day. We now Facetime at least four times a day and we are constantly texting. But is it that weird? When you think about it, she is my sister, best friend and plays a mother role in my life as well. So when you take that all into consideration I don’t think it is that weird lol. Well to us it is the norm. We wouldn’t be able to cope with less contact.

It was nearly a year before being able to visit my Mumma in her care home and even when I did visit it was the beginning of October, we had to sit outside, I had my mask and gloves on, we were sat opposite sides of the table and not allowed to hug and it was honestly so hard not to. Especially as I was telling her that I was pregnant! Of course this was a massive thing to be telling my Mumma and it was matched with a mountain of emotions. Including happiness, complete happiness and joy at seeing my Mum, looking healthier than she had in so long. I had missed here so much and despite the fact that she forgot I was pregnant while there. (Reality of having a Mum with dementia right!)
It was truly so lovely to see her face light up and hear the excitement in her voice!

I think it would be very selfish of me to say how I alone struggled without taking into consideration the entire world was and still is following the same restrictions and rules. BUT we are not and were not all in the same boat, same storm, but definitely not the same boat.

In my little boat I have a lot of baggage and issues to contend with. My biggest issue during this pandemic was my bipolar. I all but lost the plot at some points. I was scared to leave the house, scared me, you and everyone else was going to die. Then to the complete opposite where I figured I hadn’t had it yet, so what were the chances of me catching it now. I was being reckless and took to drinking a lot whenever I could. Which as you all know can be a proper recipe for disaster with me.

Then this happened..

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

I mean how did this happen? Well we all know how.. but I mean we weren’t trying and I didn’t even think this was why I was feeling so rough all of the time.
But what a life saver.

It was all going so well, well for me anyways, I wasn’t the one in denial about it all. It was like this is what I was made for in that moment, to house this baby, look after them and myself..
Well that was the idea anyways.

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I was coping, at first. I had pregnancy sickness but I managed (just about) to keep everything secret until the twelve week scan. I just looked really bloated and well a bit chubby I guess. But it was out there, we were having another baby! What a whirlwind it was. we were put back into lockdown soon after announcing and I was working from home, which was a killer and completely isolating. Some days, even a week might pass and I wouldn’t have a proper conversation with anyone. I hated everything. The shops were closed I couldn’t enjoy ‘awwing’ over baby clothes, will it be pink this time or team blue again? I felt like shit and it spiraled quite quickly, I was hitting the bottom.. again.

Soon enough MIMHS (Mother and infant mental health service) were heavily involved. My medication was reviewed and adjusted pretty soon after finding out I was pregnant, Lamotrigine is not an overly friendly drug to take when pregnant or breast feeding, so that was quite quickly quartered. Then my anti psychotic drug, Aripiprazole was lowered as well to balance everything out. I guess for a while I didn’t really notice a difference because of my medication but pregnancy, hormones and adjusting life really made a massive difference to my mental health.

I wasn’t coping.

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Before I knew it, we were having a private gender scan, simply because Ash (no one) was allowed to the NHS appointments and I didn’t want to find out the gender without him. Not that he was all that bothered and he definitely was not excited to learn that the new baby was a girl..

I was over the moon and felt like the luckiest girl alive in that moment. I had one healthy and happy little boy, our Caleb. Then on the way I had a healthy baby girl! On the face of it, I had/have it all. The children, the husband, even a little yappy dog who lives in the house with us in our nice neighbourhood. On the surface I am happy, I smile, I laugh and joke at the right times. It’s all very superficial though.
This pregnancy journey has been far from easy, and I am not talking about typical pregnancy problems. I have been plagued with a depression and a yearning to be happy. When others would look in casually and expect me to be happy with everything. But the harsh reality is, I wasn’t and I am struggling still.
I was signed off work with Bipolar related depression. I had full on relapsed. I was getting out of bed to do what I had to do but nothing more. I was so low I got to the point where I would cry uncontrollably abut almost anything.

The truth, I didn’t want this baby, I didn’t want this life, I didn’t want to be alive.
The other part of this truth is, our miracle baby that I didn’t know how to want, was the only thing keeping me alive. Together with the love from her brother, I knew I couldn’t give in.

Christmas came and it seemed even harder than previous years. We couldn’t see my family on boxing day because of Covid restrictions. Briefly saw my Mumma on face time with everyone, but it was not the same by any measure. Then I didn’t feel like I or we even honored my Dad’s memory on the ninth anniversary of him passing. And I couldn’t even drown my misery and sorrows because I was at this point 20 weeks pregnant, half way through this journey, but still just as lost and alone as before.

I didn’t feel that instant bond with this baby, it was starting to scare me that I never would. Her baby book sits on the side, half finished. I joke that she is our second and this is what happens, but all jokes aside, part of me can’t bring myself to do it. Despite the quite obvious ‘in your face’ fact that she is physically here, it would mean I would have to admit this is all very real and happening/happened.
It breaks my heart, quite literally to admit this. So I beg you, don’t judge me or consider me a bad Mum. Don’t just feel sorry for me and think I am not coping, I need help. Maybe try and empathise that this journey of second time Mumma life hasn’t come as naturally to me as I believed it would.

Do not get me wrong, I love my children so completely and unconditionally. This is a different type of not coping, for want a better term/word.
It all just happened so quickly. From finding out I was pregnant, to the first scan, to the last scan, right down to the labour and delivery.
Ohhh now you’re interested lol. You want to know how I coped this time.

I was struggling, I was the size of a house with little mobility. SPD had come back in full force to haunt me. I was tired, beyond tired in fact. I could no longer do Caleb’s pre school drop off or pick up. I couldn’t do anything. Due date came and went with very little in the way of signs of labour. So comes Monday 10th May, two days overdue. I had my consultant appointment and I begged my lovely consultant at MTW; Dr Krishna, to do something, to induce me. I needed it for my own mental health let alone mine or my babies physical health. I needed this baby out of me, I was beyond depressed and struggling so much.
I had a sweep instead. Which oh my god, painful or what.
But it did the trick…..Eventually, that some bouncing and a few car journeys and by 7pm the following day, 11th May my contractions started!

WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!!!!

Oh wait, I forgot, contractions really really fucking hurt. I was timing them with the contraction timer app. They were very sporadic, much the same as when I was in labour with Caleb. Panic started setting in. I couldn’t do this, the pain was, without being dramatic, fucking horrendous. I clearly had completely blocked all of this out of my mind because I was in full on panic mode this time. I cannot thank my sister enough though for being on FaceTime to me pretty much the entire time till around 12.30am on 12th May it was time to go to the hospital.

I get there fully anticipating that I was well in established labour, ready for the pool. Oh the horror when upon examination I was a mere 2cm dilated. Panic surged my body and mind. I wasn’t going to be able to do this. The pain I was in was unbearable at this point and everything slowed down. I cried.
It was suggested that I go for a walk, get things moving and control my breathing. So off I went at 1.30am for a walk around Pembury hospital. Back and forth down the corridors, stopping every few minutes for a contraction.
These were so much worse than I remembered. I was panicking and I couldn’t take much more.

We made our way back to the ward and I begged to be examined again.
They examined me, I was the grand total of
2 FUCKING CM’s.

The panic was clear, I was in hysterics wondering how the hell I was going to do this. The amazing midwife support team were on hand to advise and support me through this and they suggested pain relief. My first thought was no way, I am already putting this baby through enough with the drugs I have to take and the planned 48 hour minimum withdrawal observation she would have to go through. Did I really want more. Simple quick answer was yes. After discussing all of the options, I opted for the least amount of pethidine I could have to take the edge off. My midwife told me quite simply, that it would help calm me down and ease the pain. Which is exactly what it did.

It was about 2am now and I could feel myself relaxing a little, to put it in a way you might also understand, I felt high. I knew what was going on but I felt calmer, my voice was softer and the persistent ‘I can’t do this’ with every contraction wasn’t quite as definite. But I was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally and physically I was done.

I was still FaceTiming Kayleigh at this point, what on earth we were talking about I have no idea. But she kept me calm and focused on what I was doing.
Having this baby…

Fast forward a little while and its now about 6am. I am pressing the buzzer, this pain relief had run out and I was panicking again wondering how I was going to get through the pain, now dreading being examined again to be told labour hadn’t or had barely progressed. But I was examined and guess who pushed through and managed to be 6cm!
I was in established labour and was welcomed to the birthing suite and into my dream place, my happy place, my calm place, my grounding place. The birthing pool.

The midwife team swapped over at this point and I was introduced to my new midwife’s Ebony and Helena. We walked around to the birthing suite, honestly this took about 20 minutes as I was contracting the entire time and I couldn’t sit down so a wheelchair was out of the question. But they were amazing, with every moment I stopped to breath through the contraction, it was followed with an apology from me. They were completely fine, obviously.

So now, I am in the birthing suite, the pool is being filled up and the ‘Having a baby #2’ playlist was switched on. I was encouraged to move around and make myself comfortable while waiting for the pool to fill up and I just could not get comfortable. Finally, around 7.40am I get into the pool. Instantly I felt a lot of the heavy feeling lift and I was able to rock my hips back and forth, head down pushed against a towel on the side of the bath and before I knew it I was telling Ebony and Helena that I was pushing.

It cant have been much before 8.10am and I remember saying that I could not take the pain anymore and I begged for more pain relief. Gas and air was making me feel sick so that was discarded and I said pethidine again. As I was thought to still be around 6cm they said that is fine as long as I was happy to get out of the pool. I was delirious from the pain and lack of pain relief. I was stressing and panicking because I couldn’t do this. To which Ash, Helena and Ebony would all reply, you have to and you are, you have got this.
Ebony, the qualified midwife, left the room to get my pethidine, giving me some time to get out of the water and dry off etc. So just to clarify there was me, Ash and the amazing Helena, the trainee midwife left in the room.

Suddenly I was pushing hard, and I mean with all my might I was pushing hard and POP, my waters broke in the water. Then it felt almost instant again; the urge to push hard, so I did and I screamed her head is out to which Helena replied it isn’t we all had a look and she said she could see her head. I screamed that better be her head or I can’t do this anymore. Then bam third surge of energy to push with all I had overwhelmed me and my body entirely. I pushed and pushed so hard to then scream, she is out, there is a baby in the water, there is a baby in the water!

Sure enough, at 8.20am with three big ass pushes, our daughter was born.

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Penelope Jayne Munn was born on 12.05.2021 at 8.20am weighing a very healthy 8lb12oz.

I was scared, in love, dazed, besotted, anxious, happy, and again scared.
So, let the journey begin.

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“Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human.”
Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Our Penelope Jayne was born to music, just like her big brother.
The song Penelope made her appearance to was – Feel the Love by Rudimental ft John Newman.

This journey is tough, life is tough and getting through each day can be a massive battle. Let alone adding all of the trauma and day to day difficulties.
So, be kind, always.

Being Becka x