It wasn't supposed to be like this. I had been eagerly awaiting this time since I was five years old, consumed by my fascination with dollies and prams.

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I was trying to be a good parent but felt so burdened by my tiny 2-kilo newborn. I had to watch her 24/7.

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I would not even take bathroom breaks because I didn't trust my husband; I caught him reading, and the baby was alone in the car seat. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, and I was so scared of the anxiety itself. The more I pushed it away, the stronger it pounced on me with a spring coil effect. I quit taking care of myself. I didn’t feel worthy – in my mind, taking care of myself meant taking time away. We couldn't afford help. Going nights without sleep, I had my first manic episode.

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Joining a Broth and Bond social session turned out to be a game-changer for me socially. Hearing other women share similar experiences blew me away with their kindness and understanding. I signed up, had a discovery meeting, and was paired with my advocate, who guided me through the process. They helped me secure a psychiatrist appointment that same week, explained my diagnosis, and outlined a treatment plan. However, the prescribed Olanzapine posed risks to my nursing baby, and formula was too expensive for us. When my advocate, Ris, learned more about our financial situation, she provided vouchers for baby formula and essentials. Additionally, she connected us with a volunteer who assisted us in accessing universal credit and PIP, as well as arranging breathing space for our debt. My husband also got counselling and support as a carer which made our relationship much better.
 

I'm not at the end of the road by any means; I can even say I know the directions now. But most importantly, I've learned how to ask for help directly and how to keep myself safe.