Here is a collection of personal stories, poetry, art & videos created by women, their partners or family and friends who have experienced PP.
If you have any pieces that you would like to share or like to contribute, please email us.
Latest: Catherine’s Story
|Latest: Jane’s Story
Jane, a community psychiatric nurse, describes her own experience of perinatal mental health problems after the birth of her third child and her personal journey to recovery. Read Jane’s Story here and also, here.
Secrets and Lies: David’s Story
Husband in a Storm
|It was the best of times, it was the worst of times – by Daniel
Here Daniel gives a detailed account of his wife’s PP after the birth of his first child and her return to being the woman he met and fell in love with
Sanchita Islam is a successful artist and writer who has experienced two episodes of PP and campaigns for better mental health care for mothers worldwide.
Here Eve gives a detailed account of her early PP symptoms and the difficulties she faced getting treatment. She tells of her time in a mother and baby unit and onto recovery.
| Caroline’s Story
This story gives a detailed account of Caroline’s first experience of childbirth in 1982 and her journey through PP. Positively, she went on to have two extremely satisfactory home births.
Here Kathryn describes her thoughts, fears and delusions she experienced and the support she received from staff in a Mother & Baby Unit.
| Nicola & John’s story
Nicola experienced PP after the birth of her daughter in 2004. The Mother & Baby Unit where she stayed asked her to write about her experiences. Nicola’s husband tells his story too.
Three short pieces
Depicting varied PP experiences written by Natasha, Sarah and Andrea.
|PP & how I avoided it second time around
Bipolar Pendulum magazine article.
| My PP Pits List
The things about PP which hindered my recovery and I find hardest to deal with.
Poetry by APP Members
CIRCUS by Sarah Spring
Roll up, roll up, I am the ringmaster.
Marvel at my commands and ready wit,
Beast and man dumb before me, lapping my pronouncements
like poisoned condensed milk.
No question who is in charge.
I am taller than the tent pole,
Wider than the tent.
Roll up, roll up, and see the shocking show. See more…
Pacing BY SARAH SPRING
I am a pacer, perfecting my slipper-shod shuffle.
Restless pinions up and down the shiny tunnel connecting nowheres,
Urgent and pointless.
Rubber soles thinner as my soul thins.
Away from the elation and celestial light.
Hard tiles resist, Passive receptors of weary steps.
Tread, trod, trodden
Grimly printing my dwindling weight
Corporeal and grave
Gravid no longer.
Send No Flowers BY SARAH SPRING
He is a caricature of himself: self conscious and pedestrian, a deadpan voice, unremarkable features. His questions, slick and predictable, come rolling off his tongue like textbook reflexes. He is not listening to me. I crouch on the bed. My baby needs changing. I perform this operation with aggressive competence, resisting the urge to put the moulded cardboard “bedpan” into which I soak cotton wool balls with exaggerated efficiency on my head (it looks uncannily like a stetson). See more…
BEAUTIFUL BLESSING BY VICTORIA RIBBONS
I am so happy. Blooming they call it.
We worry about you -
mummy must still take her tablets.
To make her better, to keep us safe.
We stare at you on the screen,
Our bouncing bean. Our precious little girl.
I do not know why but sadness encompasses me
It drowns me, it steals my bloom. See more…
Racing BY Strawberry55
But fears as well, scared of the night
I hadn’t slept for eleven nights
Delusional and seeing sights
Racing thoughts, fast, fast, fast
There were so many, they were so vast See more…
TIME FOR ANOTHER BY JENNY
It must be time for another,
You can’t have just one son.
He’ll have no one to play with, be all alone,
And that would be no fun.
It must be time for another,
Sticking at one’s not fair. See more…
ILLNESS, RECOVERY & PARENTHOOD BY Kathryn Grant
Natasha’s ‘Reunited’ Scrapbook Pages
When you were only five days old, mummy became very ill and had to go into hospital for three weeks with a severe form of postnatal illness. While she was getting better, daddy looked after you with the help of nanny and grandad who loved giving you cuddles. Mummy missed you very much and looked forward to seeing you again. You visited mummy in hospital a few times and you were always asleep in your pram looking beautiful and content. The sparkles on the first page represent the tears shed at that time. The second page shows the beautiful day we were all reunited.