I’m a man who has suffered from postnatal depression – why won’t the NHS help me?

A new scheme introduced by the health service promises to give mental health screenings to birth partners – but only to those whose partner is also mentally ill. Why?

After the birth of our son, we were receive a succession of body blows (Shutterstock)

In the early 2000s I was diagnosed with depression. In the years since, I have been treated on and off with anti-depressants and, on several occasions, have referred myself to counselling services provided through my employer and the NHS. On more than one occasion I have had to take a leave of absence from work to recover from serious episodes during which I suffered from intrusive, suicidal thoughts. On those days I found myself making it through the day by focusing on surviving for 15 minutes at a time.

In March 2018 my wife told me she was pregnant. I had nieces and nephews and had always wanted a child so I was over the moon. The happiness I felt when I saw our child for the first time, during our 12-week scan, was indescribable and only surpassed by the overwhelming feelings I felt when my son, Charlie, was finally delivered by caesarean section in the early hours of Sunday 25 November.

As I imagine is true for any new father, the next twelve hours were a blur of nappy changes, feeds and visits from relatives keen to meet the latest addition to the family.

But there then followed what I can only describe as a series of psychological body blows which seemed to arrive in quick succession. We were on edge upon arrival at hospital because we had been told our son might be born with a condition called Beckwith-Wiedemann syndrome, a condition characterised by, among other things, an enlarged tongue, and which can have a detrimental impact on a newborn’s brain development. Sufferers can also be prone to developing cancerous tumours during childhood.

Soon after, we were told our child’s blood tests had revealed signs he might have an infection which meant he would need to be kept in hospital for at least five days for treatment. To make matters worse my wife then began to feel very unwell, but her symptoms were dismissed as a normal consequence of significant surgery and the inevitable changes in her hormone levels every woman experiences after birth. Over the next 24 hours my wife gradually got worse and worse.

Mercifully, the following day we were able to persuade a midwife to take our concerns seriously and a blood test was ordered. The results revealed my wife had developed an infection which she was prescribed antibiotics for. But this was not the only incident that dented our confidence in the team caring for my wife and our child. On more than one occasion we had to correct medical staff who had seemingly recorded information about my son’s treatment incorrectly, or had to brief doctors caring for my wife who had seemingly not read her notes.

This caused me to develop a belief I had to be present for every blood test my wife and my son were subjected to and that I also had to be present when the results were reported. That, combined with the overarching concern for the health of my wife and my son, the demands of looking after a newborn and an incapacitated wife, and the general hubbub, noise and disturbance that are an inevitable part of being treated in hospital meant I made a conscious decision to not leave my family unattended in the hospital – and an unconscious one to stop sleeping. Over the four day period between when my son was delivered and when I finally had a meltdown I believe I was getting, on average, two-and-a-half hours of sleep per night. I had showered once and changed my clothes just as infrequently.

Worryingly, nobody caring for my wife or son appeared to have noted this. Thankfully, two of my sisters were present that day and staged an intervention, forcing me to take stock of what was happening, to help me see what an emotional wreck I had become – I was brought to tears on one occasion by the wonder of a bacon roll – and to force me to take a break.

But what if my sisters had not been there? What if they had not spotted how badly I was struggling?

Well, what about this new scheme introduced by the NHS, as reported by The Independent this week, which would give birth partners access to mental health screening and follow up treatment?

Well, despite my trauma I wouldn’t have been eligible; you see, my wife has no history of mental health issues and there are no factors we are aware of that indicate she would develop any – the rules clearly state there would need to be before I could access care. This makes little sense. Why should birth partners suffering from mental health issues have to rely on the mother of their child to also be suffering in order to access support?

My story does at least have a happy ending. On the evening of Saturday 1 December, after spending more than eight days in hospital, my son and wife were discharged. While we continue to deal with the physical and psychological scars we have had inflicted upon us by this episode, we are at least at home in an environment where we can support ourselves to cope with the challenges ahead. Now, I implore the NHS to expand its mental health provision to include people like myself.