“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” – Mark 11:24 (NIV)
I ask the Lord everyday to guide me, to give me strength, to keep my family healthy and strong. To date He has kept His word and delivered.
However it’s not always been simple…
Arnold
When my eldest son was born my wife, Lysette, struggled dramatically, both mentally and physically. She almost blocked me out, withdrew into herself and had a breakdown. I was mostly left to care for newly born Arnold, as well as Lysette.
Often I’d return from work (managing two or three jobs) and spend the night doing feeds, sleeping on the sofa or walking round the block at 2am with Arnold trying to give my wife some much needed sleep. Some nights I’d go to work in the morning without washing still wearing my boots from the day before.
I was mentally and physically exhausted.
Despite it all, I understood Arnold. I understood my role with him and Lysette, knew what I had to do and was able to carry out my tasks without anger, frustration or regret. I used a strength I never knew was within me and loved them both dearly with all that I was.
I spoke to God daily, asked Him for strength and He gave me more and more. I asked for rest, and He delivered it with small gaps throughout the day where I could catch my breath. I asked for safety and security, and we were able to take out an excellent mortgage offer. I asked for food and water without compromise, and our shelves were never empty.
But although this time tested me hugely – beyond any physical challenge I’ve done (I’m ex -army, lift weights, have done ultra-running) or recovering from a major car crash – life was about to take a very hard U-turn…
Lockdown hits
Lockdown, March 2020. I’d lost a very nice job, my income disappeared overnight, my business was just picking up and suddenly I found myself, with the rest of the world, locked in.
And Lysette was pregnant again.
We were worried, excited and fearful but also in a strange way, calm. I was doing whatever work was allowed – gardening, coffin bearing, online training, one-to-one PT coaching, school caretaker, online life art model. You name it, I did it. And Lysette was working from home with no real change in her professional life.
We were managing OK, but life was hard. God and I were now on icy ground and my faith was being pushed out.
Enter Willow
Willow was born on 5th February 2021 at 4:10am – a two-hour unplanned home birth. Lysette’s chosen birth contact to look after Arnold while Lysette and I went to hospital was not answering her phone, so we called our neighbour who rushed over at 3am. But Lysette was now too far gone to be moved. We called our vicar for support, and he arrived. The ambulance crew came shortly after followed by Willow, healthy and strong.
I held her for a beautiful ten minutes while Lysette was being checked over. But that would be the last time for ages (or so it felt).
Within the first week it was clear Willow was going to be different to Arnold. Very, very different. What had worked for him was not working for Willow. She would scream and wriggle and fight me to put her down and refused to let me be near her. Even just changing her nappy felt painful to me and I did something I never thought I could – I detached from her.
She could cry and cry and I wouldn’t even lift an eyebrow to help. I couldn’t be in the same house as her when she cried. I didn’t care whether she was clothed, fed or even clean. My focus was Arnold. Just him.
Sadly, my disconnection began to affect Arnold and Lysette. I became cold and distant. My PTSD (that’s another story) had fully kicked in and my mind was now on just surviving. My faith was stretched to the limit, my drinking went up and my eating increased. During Willow’s earliest days I hated my life.
My ideal family home was now a place of noise, no love, hostile, full of fear and low self worth. I was either starving myself or secretly eating crappy food. I grew long hair (for me) and stopped shaving regularly. I was pretty aggressive with only small moments of calm.
Then I found out my dad, my best friend, was dying. Brain cancer. Shit.
I was totally done. I was exhausted.
I was dying inside, in pain and couldn’t see a light.
My life was a mess where I was in and out of work, money was non-existent, food sparse and opportunity only a pipe dream. I was getting dark thoughts and starting to doubt my life.
In that lonely space, that place of “why bother?” I cried more in a few months than from all the physical pain I’ve ever endured.
Enough was enough. I was ready to clock out, to walk away.
Change on the horizon
Then one night, after around eight months with Willow, Lysette had to attend a work function and was going to be out most of the day. Arnold was at his Nans, and I was being left with a baby that I felt hated me.
I remember being so scared, so fearful, so withdrawn. All I wanted to do was down a bottle of wine and pass out. Instead, I asked God for a massive favour:
“I need your help God. Please give me your strength to love my daughter on this day. In the name of Christ Jesus, Amen.”
That was when I finally remembered the power of God.
Although Willow cried, I was able to hold her, to bottle feed her, to change her. We even had a dance to some music and I made her laugh. “She giggles,” I thought. “She can see me.”
Until that point, I’d barely held her. Until that moment we were strangers.
Thank you God
I then put Willow down to nap and she was so calm and beautiful. I thanked God and asked for His love again. I asked to be forgiven for my failings and asked for my dad to not suffer. I asked for the means to visit my dad and care for him. And everything I asked for started happening.
I don’t believe we should ask God for things for selfish gain – God’s love is to be shared and spread to others. And I’ve learned through my experience that God answers through people, actions and over time. If we ask Him so we can serve others, He will answer.
I now speak to God every morning on a dog walk and every night I thank Him for that day. I ask for wisdom, strength and the means to support my family, I ask for employment so I can serve others. Our shelves are stocked, our home is warm and our lives are full of love and laughter.
Male post-natal depression – it’s real and it’s OK to ask for help
During the darkest times, the first year of Willow’s life, I struggled. I was detached from the present, and felt I had no future. But through the action of seeking, asking and knocking, by asking to borrow some of God’s love, He transformed my mind, repaired my soul and gave me new strength.
Postnatal depression (PND) in men is real. It can happen to any of us. I hid mine because I didn’t want to be seen as weak. But speaking of it to others helped me. I had friends, I had Lysette, I had Arnold. I had our church community, our loving vicar Andy and our friends Bob and Sonia, probably the nicest humans I know.
You may still be deep down in that darkest of spaces. If so, seek support, ask for strength, try to love yourself, knock and be ready to be welcomed.
Although I wanted to walk away many times, to not care, we shouldn’t feel bad for having dark thoughts or being tempted. The Lord’s Prayer says: “Lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil.” Because of His love and compassion I was able to hold onto my faith and He saved me. Thank God I now have the most wonderful and blossoming relationship with Lysette, Arnold and Willow. I ask in Jesus’s name for continued health and joy.
I pray my experience allows you to see male post-natal depression is real. And it’s OK to ask for help if you think you (or someone you know) might be struggling with it.
My days are not perfect, I still strive too much and some days are hard. The main difference now is I know God walks by my side.
Bless you.
Tom
If you’d like to write a guest blog sharing your personal story, email susan@creationlifeadventure.co.uk or fill in the webform