Fetch hunt day 11: a memory and a deceptive photo
3:40pm, 4th Jan 2025 | 9 Comments
Blog by ITG 🇮🇸
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Trigger warning: post natal depression
When I saw today's quest, I immediately thought of this photo. I often think about it and the story it tells and the one it doesn't. The latter is a hard story to tell but I think it is important to discuss these things and remind folks that the people who *look fine*, maybe even look good, might in fact be doing very badly indeed.
So after that build up, here it is:
It all looks innocuous enough - MiL, 8mo tri baby and me, getting into the Christmas spirit.
But I was getting more into a spiral than spirit of anything.
I had been struggling with post natal depression from about 3 months in. I was on maternity leave but OH was working full time and had taken up opera singing lessons in his *spare time*. We have no family in this country so there was no one to call on. I just had to get on with it. OH was trying but he did not really get it (which is a bit weird as he has chronic depression and this was my first bout). He just did not know how to help and walked away, literally, when I started talking about what was going through my mind, especially the worst things.
It was bad; not gonna pretend it was just baby blues or tiredness though lack of sleep was definitely a factor. It was also 2008 and the Icelandic economy was in tatters our jobs and small but hard-earned savings were on the line. I didn't want to tell anyone because I was convinced *they* (not sure who, exactly) would take my 3yo because I could not look after him. In my rational madness, I thought they would leave me with baby as long as I was breastfeeding because breastfeeding is a huge deal in Iceland. Yup. Made perfect sense in my parallel world of logic.
So here we are in the photo, not long arrived at in-laws in Italy. Probably 3 flights and a bus to get there in unpredictable winter. I was falling apart inside, but, well practised as I was, I put on a good show.
It should have been restful - and OH was having a grand old time eating and drinking with all his relatives (and there are a lot and they ALL wanted to see the kids) which made me feel even more alone with it all to do. All the socialising was in Italian and I was not as fluent then as now, so that was an added stress.
And then I just couldn't. I could not do any of it. I stayed in bed for 3 days and someone brought me baby for feeding and he slept (I use the term loosely!) in the cot in my room.
Subconsciously, I knew MiL would see to the kids and of course, she did. That allowed me to let go. I don't want to speak ill of OH; he just didn't know how to help and was scared of my moods and the things I was saying.
And meanwhile, I looked like that: made-up, well-dressed, thin... and on the days I didn't, well... I didn't leave the house.
When you see the fabulous, got it all, new or not so new mum, don't jump to conclusions. Maybe she is screaming inside to dare to be a bit less fabulous.
When I saw today's quest, I immediately thought of this photo. I often think about it and the story it tells and the one it doesn't. The latter is a hard story to tell but I think it is important to discuss these things and remind folks that the people who *look fine*, maybe even look good, might in fact be doing very badly indeed.
So after that build up, here it is:
It all looks innocuous enough - MiL, 8mo tri baby and me, getting into the Christmas spirit.
But I was getting more into a spiral than spirit of anything.
I had been struggling with post natal depression from about 3 months in. I was on maternity leave but OH was working full time and had taken up opera singing lessons in his *spare time*. We have no family in this country so there was no one to call on. I just had to get on with it. OH was trying but he did not really get it (which is a bit weird as he has chronic depression and this was my first bout). He just did not know how to help and walked away, literally, when I started talking about what was going through my mind, especially the worst things.
It was bad; not gonna pretend it was just baby blues or tiredness though lack of sleep was definitely a factor. It was also 2008 and the Icelandic economy was in tatters our jobs and small but hard-earned savings were on the line. I didn't want to tell anyone because I was convinced *they* (not sure who, exactly) would take my 3yo because I could not look after him. In my rational madness, I thought they would leave me with baby as long as I was breastfeeding because breastfeeding is a huge deal in Iceland. Yup. Made perfect sense in my parallel world of logic.
So here we are in the photo, not long arrived at in-laws in Italy. Probably 3 flights and a bus to get there in unpredictable winter. I was falling apart inside, but, well practised as I was, I put on a good show.
It should have been restful - and OH was having a grand old time eating and drinking with all his relatives (and there are a lot and they ALL wanted to see the kids) which made me feel even more alone with it all to do. All the socialising was in Italian and I was not as fluent then as now, so that was an added stress.
And then I just couldn't. I could not do any of it. I stayed in bed for 3 days and someone brought me baby for feeding and he slept (I use the term loosely!) in the cot in my room.
Subconsciously, I knew MiL would see to the kids and of course, she did. That allowed me to let go. I don't want to speak ill of OH; he just didn't know how to help and was scared of my moods and the things I was saying.
And meanwhile, I looked like that: made-up, well-dressed, thin... and on the days I didn't, well... I didn't leave the house.
When you see the fabulous, got it all, new or not so new mum, don't jump to conclusions. Maybe she is screaming inside to dare to be a bit less fabulous.
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ITG 🇮🇸
Mother of two lively boys; university professor in my spare time; delusions of athletic prowessProfile | Blog | Other Blogs
