Sinead's Story

*The above photograph is used for illustrative purposes and does not represent the person quoted.

For our Better Care = Safer Care campaign, Sinead shares her experiences in hospital. She explores the difficulties of being far away from home and in an unsupportive environment.

Whilst experiencing postnatal depression, I was sent to a Mother and Baby Unit (MBU). Even though it was the closest one, it was an hour away by car. I had an admission for nearly 12 weeks which I found very difficult. It wasn’t a positive experience at all. 

The visiting policy was literally heart-breaking. Visiting hours were only one or two hours twice a week.  I was torn away from my one source of comfort and support. And a little baby was separated from his father.

Later, I had a separate admission to my local unit (without my little one). My memories of this admission are less traumatic, as I wasn’t so far away from my family. The local admission was easier – a friend could drop off things I needed at the hospital and when I was allowed, they could give me a lift so I could pop home to see my little one. That really made a difference.

It also felt more joined up, with the community team being in the local area. When you’re out of area, the faraway community teams won’t be used to the multi-disciplinary teams (MDTs) in that area, for example, and support becomes disjointed. Being discharged is much harder when you live far away.

There was a Drug and Alcohol Unit that had been closed because of COVID-19, so the staff had been redeployed to the MBU. A lot of the staff were not specifically trained to work in an MBU and that was a disadvantage. I imagine a Drug and Alcohol Unit would have a very different approach to a ward with mothers and their new babies.

I remember that you’d speak to one staff member who would say they could do something for you, but then it’d never happen and then in the next shift you’d have to start all over again. There was no cohesive handover. The communication between the ward and my husband and I was really inconsistent.

There was little intervention, no psychologist on the ward for the vast majority of my stay. I didn’t get any support with bonding with my child. It felt like a prison, not a therapeutic environment. I felt shamed, berated and punished. I felt powerless, trapped and judged. I felt like a caged animal. I just wanted to escape.

How are you meant to get better if you’re just locked up? When you’re in hospital, you can’t do things that you normally do to make yourself feel better. For example, I run as I know it’s really good for my wellbeing. You often can’t go for a run whilst an inpatient, but they don’t offer anything else. You feel worse then – you’re separated from the people you love, far away and  can’t do the things that normally help you.

My time in the second MBU was a lot more supportive. We had an emotional coping skills group, loosely based on DBT (dialectical behavioural therapy), teaching you what to do when you felt overwhelmed. When I was spiralling, the staff would fill a big basin of ice-cold water so I could put my hands and face in it.

It instantly made me feel calmer and more  able to cope whereas in the last unit, they’d give me benzodiazepine which wouldn’t work and would make me feel silenced or groggy. It made me feel like my emotions were inconvenient, annoying and my fault. I only needed the emotional coping skills because I was locked up, I never got so overwhelmed at home because I didn’t feel so trapped.

I think being in hospital is a real opportunity to make a difference - encouraging people to be more active, cook or learn any other life skills. We also need help that isn’t always medication related. It might be that we need access to fresh air, or to go and sit outside with somebody and have a chat, or do some exercise or use DBT skills. It should be more about looking after the person, rather than keeping them locked up. It is an opportunity to treat someone with compassion and respect and show them the humanity they deserve.