Archive for the ‘newborn baby’ Category

Have you written a postnatal care plan yet?

October 10, 2016

You wrote a birth plan, because birth is a big deal. But did you write a postnatal care plan? After your baby is born, your whole body and mind are in transition. Transition can be so tough, it’s even got a psychiatric label attached to it (Adjustment Disorder). Your body is physically transitioning in crazy, magical ways, and you are mentally transforming to get used to being instantly interrupt-able, having strange sleep patterns, putting yourself second, and grieving your lost carefree past. You are learning to know and love your baby. (Honeymoons were designed to help you love your new partner. Babymoons should also be designed to help you love your baby). Your brain is processing the birth. The list goes on and on and on and on. So, don’t just go home and hope for the best. Here is an example of what your postnatal care plan might look like:

“My Postnatal Care Plan

I have written a postnatal care plan because I very much want to enjoy my first few weeks getting to know my baby. I am aware that I have a tendency to do too much, and to feel guilty when I’m not getting stuff done. I want to ensure that this doesn’t happen following the birth of my baby, and so I am planning how to take care of myself in the first two precious weeks with my baby.

Generally, I wish to spend time skin to skin with my baby, I wish to establish breastfeeding, and I would like my husband to be an integral part of this with us.

Immediately upon coming home:

My husband would like to carry me and our baby over the threshold.

I would like a warm bath with rejuvenating bath salts, and then I would like to get into fresh (new) pyjamas and into our king size bed with new fresh sheets, and my baby.

I would like the lights kept low, my phone and my remote control next to me.

I would like to eat a huge, warm, filling meal of cottage pie and peas, washed down with camomile tea and a glass of champagne.

I would like my husband to join us as much as possible in bed.

For the first two weeks after coming home:

I would like visitors to stay away for at least 12 hours, apart from the midwife and my lactation consultant, who I have pre-arranged support with.

In the first three days, I would like very close members of my family only, to visit.

I do not want my baby to be held by anybody else in the first three days, other than her father.

We have arranged for a food delivery of fresh fruit, salads, sandwiches, chocolates and champagne. There are plenty of ready cooked meals in the freezer too.

I have arranged for a cleaner to come in every other day to tidy and clean the house, as per my husband’s requests (she will not clean our bedroom).

I have specific herbal/homeopathic remedies that I will be taking each day.

After the first three days, I have arranged for a postnatal doula to come in and provide emotional and practical support every three days.

My husband will help to ensure that I get plenty of rest, by regularly encouraging me to go to bed, and ensuring that the household and visitors are taken care of.

My husband will take a few hours out of the house each day, to do something to help him to feel refreshed also.

According to how I feel, I plan to spend most of the first two weeks in and out of bed. I might take a walk or potter around the house if I feel restless, but if not, I will stay in bed to recover and adjust, both physically and mentally, and to help me to fall in love with my baby and establish breastfeeding.”

What do you think? If you are thinking “that’s a bit overindulgent” then you are totally not getting how important this time is. If you are thinking “it’s only relevant to rich people” then drop the champagne and the au-pair, but stick with bed and help from family. If you’re thinking “what if I’m a single mum” then think even harder about your postnatal care plan, because support matters, whether its from a husband, a mother, the NHS, a best friend or social services.

It’s my prediction that postnatal care plans will become more and more common. If you’ve ever used one, I’d love to hear from you.

Mia Scotland

Perinatal Clinical Psychologist

http://www.yourbirthright.co.uk

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Pass The Bomb: who is going to contain your anxiety when you are with your newborn baby?

January 26, 2016

iStock_000064471321_SmallNew parents are anxious. And according to research, they are getting more and more anxious. I often hear cases of mums unable to sleep because they are terrified. Terrifed that their babies aren’t breathing. Terrified that the room is too hot. Terrified that baby hasn’t fed enough. Terrified that they will damage their baby. Dads are getting postnatal depression too, at rates almost as high as for women. They are scared too. I want to talk about a psychological piece of gold, that can ease anxiety, but that new parents are lacking in our modern lives.

Containment is a psychology term that basically means; the process of stopping anxiety from bouncing around the room.  Containing situations and emotions is something that all good parents do (and therapists too). It’s not easy to explain, but I’ll give you an example of when containment is NOT happening. My son may come to me in a flap because his friends have said to him (in a flap) that he has to start job hunting now, because a teacher said to his friends (in a flap) that jobs are very competitive and they need to take this seriously and start job hunting now. I can continue the flapping by saying “what? Are you serious? Now? That’s crazy. Can it really be that bad? Oh my goodness, I don’t know what we are supposed to do with that information, it’s a crazy world out there”. And in my exasperation, I tell my friends, who are also parents, and pass the flapping on. The anxiety continues down the line, because no one has contained it.

Or, as a parent, I can provide some containment. In doing so, the anxiety disperses. I do this by “containing” my own feelings of exasperation or anxiety, and I can calmly and warmly say “honey, that sounds very pressurising, I can understand that you’re worried (empathy). But you know what? It’s going to be fine, because you have at least a year before you need a job, you’ve already got a great CV, and I’m going to help you get yourself sorted. Shall we take a look this week-end?”  He relaxes, and the “containment” goes back down the line, because he tells his mates “actually, we do have a year, and we’ve got our CVs done already, and I’m not worried about it” and so on. Containment kills anxiety.

I was watching an episode of the British Sitcom “On the Buses” recently. It’s an amazing watch, because it is a rare glimpse into social history. It is set in working class London, in the early 1970s. It is clear, watching this, that it was normal to go through your first pregnancy, birth and babyhood, whilst still living with your parents. This was common before the 1970s, because newly weds couldn’t afford their own house. In one particular episode, a pregnant woman and her mother were chatting about the baby in a tiny kitchen, which serves as a wash room and a living room all in one. The pregnant woman was expressing anxieties about becoming a mum. The mother’s mother responded with something along the lines of “I’ll be ‘ere anyways, so you ain’t got narfin’ ta worry abart” (I made that bit up, I can’t remember exactly what she said). She was replying with reassurances, in a tone that kind of said “I totally get why you’re anxious, because I was” (empathy) and added “but really, it is so easy to look after a new baby, that you have nothing to worry about”. She was nonchalant, but empathic too, and containing.

Nowadays, new parents go home to their own house when they have their baby. And they don’t really want the mother in law around too much. And they don’t want her advice, because advice has changed so much. So they go home and do it themselves. Here-in lies the danger: What they don’t realise is, they have no-one to contain the anxiety. This is critical, but overlooked. Hazel Douglas defines containment as being “when one person receives and understands the emotional communication of another without being overwhelmed by it, processes it and then communicates understanding and recognition back to the other person. This process can restore the capacity to think in the other person.” Thus, it is a powerful tool for helping the person become unstuck from paralysing anxiety, to help them become functional again, to “think” again. Because, you know what? Working out what to do when a baby cries, learning how to pick up a baby, rock a baby, feed a baby, change a baby, keep it alive, is quite a big task when you are new to it.

And when there is no-one around to contain the anxiety in the middle of the night, it all gets a lot more stressful. And if you are scared and anxious, you are passing that on to your baby. Your baby picks up on “something is the matter”. So your baby is more likely to cry. So it gets worse. What you need, is someone to come in and contain the situation. Some-one who has done it before, who can calmly, empathically and warmly turn the situation around with one look and one smile. She sprinkles magic fairy dust into the room, just like a real life fairy godmother. Who is going to do that for you? Traditionally, it would have been mothers, sisters, midwives or aunties.

Nowadays, fathers are courageously trying to fill this gap. They are mucking in with the night time nappy changes and the job of caring for the baby. That, in itself, is a big job if you’ve never done it before. But dads, you have an extra job. You are also there to support the mother, so that when she is crying on day three of the baby blues, you can hold her in your arms and tell her that you love her. All very well, but can you tell her, knowingly, that it’ll be okay? Can you tell her, from experience, that it’ll pass? Can you tell her, and feel, that you are calm and strong and capable of handling all of this? Can you contain the situation?

Probably not. Because you have never done this before, either. You are tired from the birth too. You are on unknown, scary territory. You haven’t got the benefit of wisdom and experience on your side. You need some-one to come in and say to you “it’ll be okay, hold her in your arms, tell her you love her, let her cry all over you, you are doing an amazing job by just being there for her”. Dad needs containment too, so that he can be there for the mother. The mother needs containment so that she can be there for the baby.

So, how can you build in the psychological gold nugget that is “containment” into your postnatal birth plan? Well, you haven’t got time to wait for the NHS to provide it in the form of regular midwife visits postnatally with continuity of care, so you need to do it yourself. Think about which members of your family help you feel safe, nurtured, and cared for. Bring them in to help. Ask them to move in! If no-one is available, think about paying for this kind of help. Lactation consultants, postnatal doulas, night nurses, private midwives, all do a fantastic job. Postnatal doulas are not expensive. They are trained in all aspects of new parenthood, and they are exceptional at taking care of your needs so that you can take care of your baby. This will take the pressure off the father too, so that he can remain strong, and enjoy the process.

Think twice before you spend your money on a travel system, or on pretty wall paper with matching bedding. Think about your emotional wellbeing before your physical wellbeing, and you, your partner and your baby can thrive as early as possible in your incredible journey as that most precious thing in the world: creating your very own family.

mia brochure photoMia Scotland is a Clinical Psychologist and author specialising in the Perinatal Period. See her website at www.yourbirthright.co.uk or buy her book, Why Perinatal Depression Matters from Pinter and Martin.