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Having been brought up in a strict Christian Family, my husband and I did not live together until we got married. We had our honeymoon in Northern Ireland so I could show off my hubby to my Grandmother and family and friends over there. We were there for 4 weeks, and when I got back 2 days before Christmas, there was a heatwave and I had the worst jetlag ever. We were out partying new years, and drank copious amounts of duty free Baileys we brought back with us.

On the second of January, I did a pregnancy test, just to check, as my jetlag had stuck around, and I felt rather sick. I was shocked to find out I was pregnant, and we were told later it had happened within 2 days of the wedding.

I had 9 months or so of married bliss before we became parents. My husband put up with everything I threw at him, sometimes litereally. When our son was 5 months old, I found out I was pregnant again. I was still breastfeeding, 37, overweight etc. But, it was true. We had another little boy. When No2 was 10 months old, I found out that we must be super fertile, because, behold, another son was on his way. We decided this was it. 3 boys under 3 and I was nearly 40 and permanently exhausted. For our entire 4 year marriage, I had either been pregnant or breast feeding, and very emotional. My husband was amazing, but me, not so much. I wasn’t coping, and found myself badly depressed. I was just starting to recover from depression, when I found myself at 41, pregnant with our 4th son. I discovered the joys of Prenatal depression with a side of post natal depression. My husband continued to be dad and husband of the year material.

Don’t ask, because, yes, we do know what causes it. No, we aren’t trying for a girl, no, we aren’t having any more, no I don’t cope. I have started being open and honest with people I meet. I am married to Super Dad, but I am no super mum. My husband has only just gotten his wife back with normal hormone levels. I am just recovered from my last bout of depression, and I am excited about where life is going to take my not so little family. It is not unheard of to have 4 boys under 5, but it is not common. I am so spoilt and so blessed (also so tired and so stressed :o)).

But please do not put me on a pedestal – I am afraid of heights.

My advice to the lovely mums out there:

Don’t think everyone else is coping – I am learning that other people fake it until they make it. I don’t but I don’t win respect from people for my openness. But I reckon if it helps one person, it is worth the criticism and the hurts. Be the best mum YOU can be. Love your child/ren. Celebrate them. Accept what life brings and find the joys in it. When you are overwhelmed, seek help. Know you are not alone. You don’t have to be super mum. But find someone you respect who you can be open with. Use organisations that deal with how you are feeling. Join a mums group. Take time out for yourself. Discover yourself and what you love, and follow your dreams. Being a mum should never stop you from being the best version of yourself you can be. I don’t know why I had to learn all this the hard way, but I am glad to have the support of my husband, friends and Mums groups, or my story could have already ended, wrapped round a convenient tree (long story, but happy ending). You can’t do it alone, and there are worse things in the world than asking for help. Take the risk. You are so worth it.

Posted by shazzmatazz, 26th February 2013

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