To love someone with postnatal depression must be incredibly hard and exhausting at times and requires so much patience. My darling husband has really been my rock especially over the last 18 months and has been a constant cheerleader to me. He has seen me at my worse, he has seen me broken, he has seen me hate myself and has still been able to love me. I have screamed at him, taken out my frustrations on him, blamed him and cried on him and yet he still tells me he loves me. My postnatal depression has probably directly effected my husband the most as with my children I have hidden emotions and shielded them as much as I can. My darling husband has seen it all and seen me broken and I need to thank him for what he has done for me.
We met when I was 20 years old on a night out in a local pub and I've always said if it wasn't for texting our relationship would never have taken off. My husband is not one with his words and is a listener not a talker, but his kind eyes and warm hugs have always made me feel safe and secure. We were young, carefree and spent most of our time in each others arms not caring about what was going on in the outside world, we had fallen in love deeply and my world was now centred around him. I've always wanted children and it was clear from early on in our relationship that my husband wanted this too and I knew he would make a brilliant father and husband. After three and a half years of dating we tied the knot in my local church and I was living the fairytale I had always dreamed of. Six weeks after our wedding I found out I was pregnant with our first child and I honestly couldn't have been happier if I tried. We decide two years later to add to our family and Mr T made his appearance quickly after. Things weren't the same this time though. I felt sad, tearful, anxious, depressed and lonely. I was unable to connect with him and I was pushing him away and I felt like I hated him for leaving me for work all day on my own. My life had been changed and put on hold and I felt he could escape this shit storm and still have his own life. I didn't know how much I was hurting him and when at work all he did was worry about me.
My body had been ruined, my confidence and self-esteem had been shattered, but he still found the time to tell me I was beautiful and that he loved me. He would remind me that I was a good mother, even though I didn't believe it myself and was consumed with guilt of not matching up to this perfect mother I had built up in my own head. Every night before bed he still cuddled me even though I edged away from him, he was patient, not angry or frustrated with me when he had every right to be. He has understood that I have been unwell and has been able to still love me, which makes him an incredible and kind human.
I owe him my life as without him I'm not sure how I would have survived this. I owe him my sanity when at times it has been sketchy, but he has reassured me that I am still me underneath it all. No one has every loved me the way he has and I promise him that no one else will either. Five years ago when he made me his wife and we said our vows I meant them, but today I know we both truly know what they mean and that we will never break them. I love him from the bottom of my heart and will forever keep fighting for us and our children.