Meltdowns, Mary Poppins and Back to Work
How a forgotten appointment brought the right support at the right time.
Sam couldn’t be in the same room as Eli. The sound of a baby crying triggered the biggest meltdowns. This fear had only really started to show in the final months of my pregnancy. Thankfully, we were living in an apartment at the time. I set up the spare bedroom beside the living room as a safe space for Sam. With both doors open, I could move between the two rooms and try to manage. But Eli cried a lot. Unlike Sam, he was very vocal as a baby and needed to be held constantly.
A few days after Eli was born, I woke up during the night in awful pain. My stomach was in agony, something felt really wrong. I rushed back to Mount Carmel and was hooked up to a drip right away. The pain was so bad they started me on antibiotics and strong pain relief. Eli had come with me but couldn’t stay, so once things settled, P brought him home and I stayed in for two nights. Thankfully, I started to feel better quickly.
Back home, reality hit hard. P went back to work and I was alone with the boys. I found myself going into survival mode just to make it to the end of each day. Sam’s care needs were growing and Eli’s screaming (I love you Eli, so much) felt never-ending. The days felt so long. I never got out of my pyjamas. Some days I barely managed to eat and leaving the apartment felt impossible. Sam was a flight risk. If the main door of the apartment block opened, he would try to run. I was terrified to go out with both boys by myself.
The public health nurse rang to say it was time for Eli’s check-up. I asked if there was any chance she could come to us. Just the thought of leaving the apartment made me panic. She agreed. A few days later, she arrived at the door and I had completely forgotten about the appointment. The apartment was a mess, not dirty but definitely not tidy. I was in my pyjamas, Eli was crying, and Sam was running laps. It was chaos. But maybe that was a good thing. If I had remembered, I would’ve cleaned, dressed up, and tried to pretend I was managing. But the reality was right in front of her.
She sat down across from me and said she’d have someone come to help the very next day. That was the first time in my life I said yes to help. I already felt a weight lift.
Sam wasn’t sleeping. He would only fall asleep around five or six in the morning, so I was running on empty. The very next morning, the most amazing, kind woman arrived. Our apartment was over a little bridge and I remember watching her car come through it and feeling this strange mix of hope and excitement. It was 8am. I’d had about one hour of sleep. Sam had just nodded off and Eli was wide awake, ready to be held for the entire day of feeding, winding, changing and sleeping.
She introduced herself, smiled, and told me to go back to bed. I did. I slept like I hadn’t in weeks. When I woke, the kitchen was clean, the boys clothes were folded, Sam was awake and sitting in his room with Curious George on the TV. I had been approved for twelve hours of home help a week. Three mornings a week, she came. Our own Mary Poppins. She was the reason we made it through those first ten weeks.
Some days I didn’t go back to bed. Instead, we chatted at the table while I had a coffee and she winded Eli. Sometimes those were the only adult conversations I had all day.
Sam’s ability to be around Eli started to last longer than a few minutes and by summer 2011, I was feeling more like myself again.
Then came the time to say goodbye to our very own Mary Poppins. I asked the public health nurse for a few more weeks but “Ms Poppins” was needed elsewhere and by all accounts I was coping a lot better. I knew I still needed help, maybe not emergency help, but an extra pair of hands to help at home. As soon as “Mary” said goodbye (yes, there were tears), I put up an ad on gumtree.ie in search of an experienced au-pair to help us get through the next few months. I would have to go back to work to pay for an au-pair but it was priority that I had extra help.
A few notes:
As I’m writing this I realise that I’m back in a very similar situation as the above. Fourteen years later. The only way for us all to have better prospects is to bring in more money and the ability to pay for help for Sam, nursing support, medical needs, home adaptations and more. It’s now eighteen months since my last pay cheque as I had to leave my job and hand over my business to stay at home and care for Sam. The reality is I need proper support and an environment that fully supports Sam’s needs.
Eli’s medical challenges started from the moment he was born. I won’t go into it here. Right now we’re still going through it. It’s complicated. I believe one day the full story will be told in order to raise awareness. But not just yet.