Postnatal depression is a battle no mother expects to face, and yet it affects so many of us. My journey through two separate stints of PND took me to the brink on several occasions, but thankfully, I managed to build an ecosystem of support that, looking back, saved my life.
While everyone’s experience is different, I hope that by sharing the things that helped me through my darkest times, I can inspire others to find their own paths toward healing.
It won’t be easy; it’s a rollercoaster of emotions, setbacks, and small victories, and in the end, you’re not the same person. But that’s okay.
The new you has a lot to look forward to…
Leaning on a Supportive Family
One of the biggest blessings in my journey was having a family that unconditionally supported me – and it doesn’t mean just blood relatives, either! Some of my closest friends make up my ‘family’. What matters is that you have people around you who allow you to be honest about your thoughts and feelings. Fear of judgment is what keeps it all bottled inside us.
That freedom to express myself was crucial in my healing process.
Talking Therapy
Therapy became my anchor. I revisited my long-term therapist, Caroline, who I can honestly say was my saving grace.
Talking therapy gave me the space to process everything I was feeling—again, without judgement and without filters. It wasn’t about finding instant solutions; it was about being heard and understanding my emotions more deeply. It’s also nice to know that there’s someone out there who is always on your team.
Understanding Medication’s Role
I often hear people say they thought medication alone would fix everything. But for me, medication was like a plaster—it covered the wound and gave me time to heal. It wasn’t a cure, but it gave me the breathing space I needed to put the other pieces of my recovery into place.
Before my first child, I’d never been an anxious person, but something in me had shifted after pregnancy. I would never recommend medication to anyone (that’s not my place), but being prescribed Pregabalin was a big turning point for me. It helped me with my panic attacks, slowed my heart rate and allowed me to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever. It was a necessary step for me at the time.
Returning to Work
I realised I needed to connect with the part of me that felt like “Lucy” again. So, gradually, I eased back into work. I started small: menial tasks with no stress or big decisions.
I put myself in situations where I felt comfortable, like working with suppliers or attending small meetings.
Over time, I built up the confidence to return to board meetings and the more demanding jobs running a company entails.
Building a Routine
Routine became a cornerstone of my recovery. I structured my day around work, meals, and exercise. It wasn’t about perfection—it was about consistency. Having predictable moments in my day gave me stability when everything else felt overwhelming.
Rediscovering Joy in Old Habits
One of the most important things I did was reconnect with the parts of my life that made me happy before I became a mother. For instance, I booked a holiday to Ibiza for my 30th birthday. It wasn’t just about the trip itself—it was about giving myself something to look forward to.
Rebuilding Friendships
Having my friends visit more often reminded me that I could be both Lucy AND a mum. Their presence helped me feel less isolated, and honestly, people love babies—especially when they can give them back at the end of the visit!
Finding Pride
As I started piecing my life back together, I realised that I’d built an incredible infrastructure of support: therapy, medication, friends, family, work, and routine. Slowly but surely, a sense of pride began to return.
Looking back now, I can see how far I’ve come. Postnatal depression (twice) was the most challenging experience of my life, but it also taught me so much about myself. I’ve learned how resilient I am, how to be more comfortable leaning on others, embrace routine, and find joy in the small things.
If you’re struggling, please know that recovery is possible. Piece by piece, day by day, you can build your own infrastructure of support. You are not alone—and you are stronger than you know.