I've been with my husband Reece for 18 years and married for 11 years. We met when we were just two unruly kids working part time in retail.  We have been so lucky to experience life together, loving each other through many ups and downs over the years. We are both very outgoing and fun-loving people, with many creative pursuits, and our life has been filled with many happy experiences.  But through those wonderful moments, we had both experienced mental health challenges that were difficult to navigate such as chronic illness, childhood trauma, bullying in the workplace and suicidal ideation. Through it all we felt pulled towards being parents and we were confident we could responsibly achieve this, so we eagerly began this chapter of our life. All our friends and family knew that we longed for children and for many years we worked hard to create the right lifestyle to support this big step.

Our process of trying to conceive lasted well over two years before we decided to try IVF in the hope of reducing the ongoing stress of trying to conceive naturally. During those years, I felt alone and I was scared to speak to my friends about such a sensitive process. On many occasions friends, acquaintances and family members would offer well-meaning advice, unhelpful comments or ask questions that we weren't ready to answer. I was lucky to conceive after only one round of IVF and our beautiful son Arthur (Artie) was born in June 2022. Although I received excellent care from a highly informed team including my obstetrician, midwife, and psychologist specialising in women's and reproductive health, as well as support through the Perinatal Mental Health Team from NSW Health, I still struggled when we arrived home from the hospital.

With all the investment I had made into my mental health before and during the pregnancy, I thought I would be well prepared. But I was overcome at an alarming rate by the unrelenting anxiety, hypervigilance and intrusive thoughts coupled with hormone crashes, recurring mastitis and endless nights wide awake sitting rigid in a chair holding my baby as he wouldn't sleep unless cradled in my arms. My mind was a frantic mess, and I was drowning in the struggle while telling myself I should be fine because I'd done ‘everything by the book’ to prepare for motherhood. 

It was my husband alongside my nurse from Perinatal Infant Mental Health Services (PIMHS) and my psychologist who banded together and came up with a plan to provide me with more support as I was in crisis. I was referred to a Mother and Baby Unit (MBU) and spent four weeks under the care of the team there. I met other mothers with similar difficult experiences of all different ages and backgrounds.  

We were all just trying our best to be the mothers we had envisioned ourselves to be, all of us dedicated to our babies and desperate to get in control of the huge scope of our responsibilities while buckling under the invisible pressures of society on how motherhood and newborn experiences should be. Glowing, peaceful, gentle and doing ‘what comes naturally’ as the primary caregiver. This was not our actual experience, and we all doubted ourselves for not meeting those expectations. Slowly and in the safety of each other, we unravelled our painful secret experiences, learned how to feel safe and began to forgive ourselves for not being perfect. 

Since completing my time at the MBU I’ve kept in touch with some gorgeous mums who were in the program with me and we’ve all continued to cheer each other on and show up for each other in many little meaningful ways. I managed to ‘graduate’ out of the PIMHS support program when Arthur turned two, I'll never forget or be able to thank my nurse, the NSW mental health worker and my psychologist enough for all they did. All of them are mothers and all of them are dedicated to supporting the lives of the women they cared for. They saved my life and gave my husband the peace of mind that we were not alone and we could confidently achieve a happy and well-adjusted family together. 

Arthur is a bright bubbly inquisitive kid who makes us laugh almost every day. We cherish his quirky personality and glorious smile and often stop what we're doing to soak up the feeling of contentment and peace knowing that we survived perinatal depression and anxiety (PNDA). The struggle as a woman, wife and mother does not stop with my PNDA experience, I continue to learn and develop support mechanisms as I face ongoing challenges due to my mental illness.  

When I finally received a diagnosis of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, I had a whole new level of knowledge and understanding of my circumstances, this reignited my commitment to share my experiences more openly. I am committed to helping other women who may have been living with a serious mental illness as a parent and feeling ‘lesser than’ others who do not have lifelong mental health conditions. I want to show that it’s possible to take up space as a woman who has survived debilitating mental illness and is continuing to wake up each day and face these battles however big or small. I feel grateful every day that I became a mum to a beautiful child, and I stayed alive to enjoy it.