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CHAPTER EIGHT
GIO looked at Harriet and felt his heart twist. She looked so utterly miserable.
‘Crazy, isn’t it?’ Her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘I have this beautiful, perfect baby and I’m not even enjoying having her. I snap at the twins and yesterday I was so miserable I didn’t even notice that they’d wandered off.’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself and never underestimate a child’s capacity for mischief,’ Gio said calmly. ‘They are young and adventurous, as small boys should be.’
‘But I can’t cope with them. I’m just so tired.’ Her eyes filled. ‘I snap at Geoff and he says that suddenly he’s married to a witch, and I really can’t face sex…’ She blushed, her expression embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Geoff would kill me if he thought I was talking about our sex life in the village.’
‘This isn’t the village,’ Gio said gently. ‘It’s my consulting room and I’m a doctor. And it’s important that you tell me everything you are feeling so that I can make an informed judgement on how to help you.’
Her eyes filled and she clamped a hand over her mouth, struggling for control. ‘I’m sorry to be so pathetic, it’s just that I’m so tired. I’ll be fine when I’ve had some sleep—the trouble is I don’t get any. I’m so tired I ought to go out like a light but I can’t sleep at all and I’m totally on edge all the time. I’m an absolutely terrible mother. And do you know the worst thing?’ Giving up her attempts at control, she burst into heartbreaking sobs. Gio reached across his desk for a box of tissues, his eyes never leaving her face.
‘Tell me.’
‘I’m so useless I don’t even know what my own baby wants.’ Wrenching a tissue from the box, she blew her nose hard. ‘She’s my third child and I find myself sitting there, staring at her while she’s crying, totally unable to move. And I worry about everything. I worry I’m going to go to her cot in the morning and find she’s died in the night, I worry that she’s going to catch something awful and I won’t notice—’
Gio put his hand over hers. ‘You’re describing symptoms of anxiety, Harriet, and I think—’
‘You think that I’m basically a completely terrible mother and a hideously pathetic blubbery female.’ She blew her nose again and he shook his head and tightened his grip on her hand.
‘On the contrary, I think you are a wonderful mother.’ He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. ‘But I think it’s possible that you could be suffering from depression.’
She frowned. Dropped the tissue into her bag. ‘I’m just tired.’
‘I don’t think so.’ He kept his hand on hers and she clamped her lower lip between her teeth, trying not to cry.
‘I can’t be depressed. Oh, God, I just need to pull myself together.’
‘Depression is an illness. It isn’t about pulling yourself together.’
Her eyes filled again and she reached for another tissue. ‘Do you mean depressed as in postnatal depression?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I think.’
Tears trickled down her face. ‘So maybe this isn’t just about me being useless?’
‘You’re not useless. In fact, I think the opposite.’ He shook his head, a look of admiration on his face. ‘How you are coping with three children under the age of six and postnatal depression, I just don’t know.’
‘I’m not coping.’
‘Yes, you are. Just not as well as you’d like. And you’re not enjoying yourself.’ Gio let go of her hand and turned back to his desk, reaching for a pad of paper. ‘But that’s going to change, Harriet. We’re going to sort this out for you.’
She blew her nose. ‘My husband will just tell me to pull myself together and snap out of it.’
‘He won’t say that,’ Gio scribbled on a pad, ‘because I’m going to talk to him. Many people are ignorant about the true nature of postnatal depression, he isn’t alone in that. Once I explain everything to him, he will give you the support you need. I’ve spoken to Gina, the health visitor, and done some research. This is a group that I think you might find helpful.’ He handed her the piece of paper and she looked at it.
‘It’s only in the next village.’
Gio nodded. ‘Will you be able to get there?’
‘Oh, yes. I can drive.’ She stared at the name. ‘Do I have to phone?’
‘I’ve done it. They’re expecting you at their next meeting, which happens to be tomorrow afternoon. You can take the twins and the baby, there’ll be someone there to help.’
Harriet looked at him. ‘Do I need drugs?’
‘I’d like to try talking therapy first and I want to see you regularly. If you don’t start to feel better then drug treatment might be appropriate. Let’s see how we go.’
