By Frankie Roe
My friend said I’m the world’s worst patient and she is absolutely right. My brain doesn’t cope well with being told what to do or being stuck indoors, so I keep it happy by being active and spending lots of time outside. So, if I’m being honest, I absolutely loathed being stuck in an MBU. But I don’t know where I’d be today without the high standard of care that I received in there.
It was after giving birth to my firstborn that I became unwell, although, when I look back on it, I was struggling with anxiety for a long time before I even got pregnant. I found the pandemic really tough - not the fear of being ill, but the fear of being confined. I was also struggling with anxiety around the pregnancy, as I miscarried the first time which was really traumatic. Due to covid restrictions my partner waited in the corridor while I sat on my own waiting for our scan to confirm the pregnancy had ended. He was briefly allowed in before being sent back outside. We weren’t offered any counselling or support.
I got pregnant a few months after the miscarriage and hated every second of the pregnancy. Even after the 12-week scan when they told me my baby was well and wriggling around, I couldn’t relax. I became convinced the baby had stopped moving and was going to die.
I told myself that when the baby arrived I’d be able to relax, but my daughter wasn’t gaining weight and seemed so vulnerable. And so after the birth my fears about dead babies intensified.
I wasn’t sleeping, I was having to drive to the other side of the city for health appointments because of the pandemic and I was exhausted. But I kept powering through. When I couldn’t sleep at night I was cooking or painting furniture at 4am, and I was putting my daughter in her baby sling and going for four-mile walks across the moors. Because I’m such an active person these things didn’t stand out too much, but in retrospect they were definitely extreme - even for me.
I saw my GP and was diagnosed with postnatal depression and given antidepressants – and things rapidly deteriorated.
After starting antidepressants, I was cycling through rapid mood swings – being absolutely manic one minute and telling my partner I felt like jumping off a bridge the next. Plus, my sleep at this point was pretty non-existent and I became convinced that it was because of the colour of my bed sheets. I was terrified that I might never sleep again and the lack of sleep would kill me. I became increasingly possessive over my baby and refused to let my partner take on his share. I was hearing babies crying when I did manage to step away from her for a shower or to rest but would come downstairs in a panic to find her sleeping peacefully.
About ten weeks post-birth I mentally hit a cliff edge, the crisis team was called, and I was admitted to a Mother and Baby Unit (MBU).
I already knew what an MBU was because they came up in my Google searches when I was trying to find out what was wrong with me. I knew something wasn’t right - I just didn’t know what - so I agreed to go in voluntarily. My partner later told me that had I not agreed, I would likely have been sectioned the following day.
It was a weird experience because it was during the pandemic, and I had to stay in 24-hour isolation upon arrival, but it was good for me because I was given lorazepam and finally slept.
They immediately took me off my antidepressants and started me on antipsychotics and the psychosis improved really quickly. Still, I didn’t enjoy being in there. I know people need MBUs and hospital care, but I resented being inside and feeing like my life was controlled – and all the pandemic restrictions on top of that were tough, too. But I knew it was the best place for me.
Although the psychosis subsided quite quickly, I had really bad anxiety and my sleep patterns were all over the place. Even after discharge, I had recurrent periods of insomnia and I lost a lot of confidence. I found myself deferring to my partner when I’m naturally independent and stubborn.
I was back at work 10 months after giving birth and, although in hindsight I probably wasn’t fully ready for it, my manager was great and I felt really supported.
After having PP, I didn’t think I’d have another baby. But after a few years I felt ready to try.
I became pregnant really quickly and have been lucky that the second time around I didn’t become mentally unwell – but I also knew I had lots of NHS professionals on the case if I did.
I feel so grateful that, when I needed it, that specialist care on an MBU was there for me – because the idea of being separated from your baby on a general psychiatric ward is inhumane. I was told there were only eight beds for Yorkshire and the Humber so I was incredibly lucky to get a place when I needed it – and that’s why we need more MBU beds available for anyone who needs them. You hope you won’t need one but if you do become seriously ill, it’s definitely the best place for you. It will probably be hard but what would be a damn sight harder is sitting at home and letting it get worse and worse.
That’s why I think, if you get the choice to go voluntarily, you should absolutely take it. You might feel as though you’re losing your freedom at first, but you’ll get your freedom back so much sooner if you accept all the specialist help on offer. And when you look back on it, you’ll feel good about making that choice and accepting that help. I know that being on a mental health unit doesn’t make me a crap parent – and that accepting the help was the best thing to do for me and my baby.
Being diagnosed with a severe mental illness like PP is frightening and shocking for the woman and those around her. With the right treatment, nearly all women make a full recovery, but the journey can be long, have ups and downs and can feel very isolating. APP peer supporters are there for everyone affected by PP, whether the experience was recent or many years ago. By donating today, you can help us be there for everyone who needs us, for as long as they need us.
Siblings Gemma and James are no strangers to the Great North Run, having taken part in 2016. Now they're back, with the aim of beating their younger selves (and maybe even each other!)
Debbie and Jo are experienced runners who have taken part in numerous events before, but this will be their first experience of the Great North Run.
Fiona is taking on her first ever Great North Run, inspired to take part and raise funds for APP by her good friend Laura (pictured together with Fiona on the left of the photo here).
Attempting the one mile swim in the UK's biggest open water swimming event will be Claire, Louise, Mary, Roban and Laura - all of whom work together in the perinatal mental health team.