Nine Months More

There is a Wolf in my House

It was the dead of night. I was five months pregnant. I woke up. Frantic. Heart racing. Blood pumping. I was sweating. I grabbed my husband and screamed “there’s a wolf in the house!” He bolted upright in bed. Confused, scratching his head, “What?”

“A wolf. I can hear it running through the house downstairs, it’s coming up for the baby. Go, go stop it.”

I was desperate. He had no choice. I was delirious with fear. He ran downstairs to check. I swear on every fibre of my being that I heard that wolf. Panting, wet heavy breathing coming through my house. In the darkness I could feel it pounding up the stairs, dashing into our room, circling the bed, waiting to pounce. Its glare, its snarl, was harrowing. This was the end.

My husband came back. Every light had been switched on and every room had been checked. “There’s no wolf.” I wasn’t convinced. I was petrified. I was taking in short sharp breathes, holding onto my baby bump in bed. “It wants my baby.” My eyes swelled. I was falling apart. My husband held me all night. I didn’t sleep. I knew that wolf was there. Waiting. Waiting for me.

I live in the density of suburbia. My home is flanked by neighbours and major roads. There is no way a wolf could be in my house. It wasn’t until many months later, that I realised there was a wolf. That was the first time it came. So violently into my mind.

post natal depression, black dog, wolf

I never spoke of the wolf after that first dreadful night. I never mentioned it to my husband again. I never told anyone. The darkness of that wolf suffocated me. It shattered the core of who I was and tore down the essence of my confidence.

Being home with AJ was a battle. A battle against the wolf. That wolf lurked and lingered. It undermined me and my choices. I watched it circle the house as it watched me feed AJ. “You don’t know what you’re doing”. “You call yourself a mother.” The taunts were piercing. I was shattering a little more each time.

The sleep deprivation was debilitating. The mental exhaustion was unfathomable. The wolf lay in the shadows of the hall as I paced with AJ in the dead of night, trying to calm my little boy back to sleep. Sing him a lullaby. The wolf mocked my every step. It laughed at my lullabies.

The pressure I felt being a new mum was a weight I could barely carry. I didn’t know what I was going through. I just battled and suffered in silence. Me, the baby and the wolf.

Postnatal Depression awareness week is 18 – 24 November. Help spread the message that Postnatal Depression is not all black and white.

 


  • TeganMC

    Such a chilling story but such a spot on way to describe PND. I hope that the wolf doesn’t stalk you anymore. Thank you for sharing your story.

  • Sophie Allen

    I hope you have tamed the wolf. What a scary night that must have been. (not to mention the following battle)

    This linkup is really positive for PND awareness.

    • http://www.alwaysjosefa.com/ Josefa @always Josefa

      the link up is an incredible way to unite something that can leave you feeling alone and isolated most of the time xx

  • mumabulous

    Oh honey. I went through a few months after the birth of my second daughter where my mind did really strange things to me too. The combination of exhaustion and hormones can really through you off balance. I sincerely hope you got some help to chase the wolf away for good. Love to you.

  • Lydia c lee

    Love the imagery. Also love wolves in stories. Not relevant but my favourite is “the worst kind of wolves are hairy on the inside”

  • http://vicky-lifeonthehill.blogspot.com.au/ Vicky Finch

    And now? How are you now? Has the wolf gone, or does he lurk in the shadows? Thank you for Sharing your story. X

  • http://mummyhood101.com Jodi @Mummyhood101

    What a powerful story Josefa. Thank you for sharing. xx

  • http://twitter.com/modernnomadsWK Prue

    A perfect description Josefa. That wolf has hovered over me for a long time, it’s still raw. One day I will be able to write about it as you have, until then I find comfort in the words of others. Thanks for sharing your story.
    Prue x

    • http://www.alwaysjosefa.com/ Josefa @always Josefa

      sharing my story is like a weight has been lifted
      always know that even though it feels like you are, you are never alone
      xx

  • http://www.singularinsanity.com/ Dorothy

    Such a powerful story, Josefa. Thank you for sharing…

  • Peta

    Josefa, such a scary time for you, and just reading about the wolf let alone having him circling you takes my breath away. I hope you are doing ok now, your post doesn’t say? All the wonderful information and support that PANDA provides that you have referenced here I hope was some help to you? Thank you for being brave and sharing your story.

  • http://twitter.com/ablendedfamily Eleise Hale

    So well written Josefa. Your rawness will help others. Thanks for sharing.

  • Catherine RodieBlagg

    Great analogy Josefa x

  • http://www.threequartersfull.com/ Three Quarters Full

    thanks so much for sharing Josefa x

  • Julia chumkovski

    I have never suffered with PND but i know from friends how scary it can be than you for sharing your story

  • http://essentiallyjess.com/ EssentiallyJess

    This was a brilliant post.
    I lived with that wolf for a long time and didn’t even realise it.

    • http://www.alwaysjosefa.com/ Josefa @always Josefa

      sadly, that is most often the case, isn’t it?
      xx

  • BossyMummy

    So often, people don’t recognise the wolf. The perfect metaphor for a harrowing time. Great post xx

  • Kirsty @ My Home Truths

    Beautifully written, as always, Josefa. I hope the wolf has returned to the woods – I can only imagine how hard it must have been living with the shadow of PND.

  • http://www.raisingwill.com/ Michelle @ Raising Will

    Tears….. I have hot tears.
    Hope you kicked that wolf in the shins…

© 2014 always josefa - designed by adelphimou