I love my boy, honestly. He is my world. I definitely don’t love the stigma that comes along with PND. Each assessment, each doctors visit the dreaded question…”Do you have thoughts of harming your baby?” simple, no, I don’t. Luckily. Fortunately for me, I do not have that part of post natal depression, he is and always will be safe with me. In no way would I ever judge somebody though for having those thoughts- it’s overwhelming and this new person has taken up literally every second of your time. You can’t eat in peace. You can’t sleep in peace. You can’t even wee in peace…so no, I couldn’t blame anybody. But it cripples me that when I say I have PND I’m automatically classed as a bad, unsafe mummy. Do I feel like running away half of the time? In fact, more than half of the time? Yes, I do. Do I run away though? No. Do I sit crying because I’m so overwhelmed? Yes. But, I look at my baby boy and I see the most precious gift- THOSE are the moments that keep me sane, when he’s safe and sound and I know this little person depends on me to keep going…and so I keep going. That’s motherhood.