PNI-UK and the Daily Mirror Campaign for Specialist Mother-and-Baby Units

There are only eight NHS specialist mother-and-baby units in the UK. PNI-UK has joined forces with the Daily Mirror to campaign for a unit in every county. We are fighting to make a difference today to the level of care available for Postnatal illness.

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WHEN I LOOKED AT MY LITTLE GIRLS I HAD AN URGE TO KILL THEM

By Julie Mccaffrey

TENDERLY cuddling her beloved daughters, it's difficult to believe that Claire Inglis used to fantasise about murdering them.

Yet the young mum obsessively visualised herself standing on London Bridge, clutching baby Hope to her chest and holding her eldest child Ellen's hand, then plunging into the River Thames.

"I thought about taking my children's lives several times a day," confesses Claire. "I loved my daughters desperately, but the visions of harming them were so vivid, that I became convinced I would kill them."

Claire, 34, was unaware she was in the grip of postnatal depression, a mental illness that was causing the violent urges.

The irrational thoughts had plagued her since Ellen was born in May 2002, but the birth of Hope a year ago worsened the condition to the point that she was almost sectioned - meaning she'd be compelled to stay in a psychiatric facility - for the safety of her daughters and herself.

Claire's story echoes that of Coronation Street's Claire Peacock, played by Julia Haworth.

She's already abandoned her sleeping child in a car. And next week, viewers will see her shove her newborn son in his buggy into the path of a speeding car.

"It's too upsetting for me to watch this storyline," sighs Claire, a stay-at-home mum from Tonbridge, Kent, who was regarded by all who knew her as the perfect mother.

Married to IT worker Malcolm, 34, for seven years, she had trouble-free pregnancies. The family live in a comfortable home and it was easy for Claire to give up her job working in London's financial sector to devote herself to her children full-time.

But even close friends and family were oblivious to the agony she was suffering.

"I loved my girls with every bone of my body - yet my head buzzed with thoughts of harming them," she says.

"Whenever I breastfed Hope in the middle of the night, when everything around me was silent, I'd want to scream and scream. But I was convinced that no one would hear me."

Claire's condition sounds extreme, but it is very common. One in six women are affected during pregnancy or after birth. Yet they stay silent fearing that admitting to their violent thoughts will brand them bad mothers or result in their babies being taken away.

Claire's symptoms developed as soon as Ellen, now four, was born. She had wanted a home birth, but complications meant that instead of becoming a mother in the familiar surroundings of her home, Claire underwent a caesarean in a clinical operating theatre.

Even the safe arrival of her healthy 9lb 7oz baby girl didn't ease the pain. Claire explains: "The doctor handed Ellen to Malcolm first, and I didn't get to hold her until she was cleaned up and clothed. I'd wanted to cuddle her immediately, naked and messy. So instead of feeling elated I felt cheated."

Back home, Claire's condition worsened as, just like her Corrie namesake, she became fixated on being the perfect mother and wife.

"If I hadn't cooked a fantastic dinner by the time Malcolm came home from work, I felt I was a terrible partner," she says.

"I became obsessed with housework. I didn't just whisk around with the vacuum cleaner each day, but did full spring cleaning - moving the beds to vacuum underneath.

"I was weepy, stressed, tired and anxious. But I just thought that's what happened to women when they became mums."

By the time Ellen was eight months old, Claire was desperate. "I didn't want my daughter any more," she says. "I considered abandoning her but couldn't bear the thought of someone else having her. Malcolm was a rock. He bathed Ellen every night. But I couldn't stay away."

Around Ellen's first birthday, Claire's GP diagnosed postnatal depression and prescribed anti-depressants. "I felt ashamed taking Prozac," recalls Claire. "It meant I wasn't the perfect mother and wife.

"The pills got rid of the deep sadness, but not the anxiety."

Wrongly believing she was cured, Claire became pregnant again and stopped taking the pills. Her state of mind soon deteriorated.

"I realised I didn't like babies much," she says. "I dreaded the first year of my new baby's life, instead of feeling excited about welcoming a new addition to the family."

Claire again hoped for a home birth - but had to have another caesarean. Her moods darkened as soon as Hope was born.

"It was if a switch had been flicked on," she says, shuddering. "I was always thinking about taking my children's lives by jumping off bridges. I was confused - I had a loving husband, gorgeous daughters and everything I'd ever hoped for, why was I feeling like this?

"I couldn't control my thoughts, so I was petrified that I would carry out the despicable ideas in my mind. I looked for a distraction to chase them out of my head - and that distraction was usually cleaning."

The change in the woman he loved stunned Malcolm. He says: "I was scared.

"When she was first diagnosed I looked up postnatal depression on the internet and tried my best to understand it. So when she told me about the violent thoughts, I knew it was part of the illness. I never believed Claire would hurt our daughters, but I started to work from home just to be absolutely sure."

Five weeks after giving birth, Claire was again diagnosed with postnatal depression. But the symptoms were so severe, she was urgently referred to a psychiatrist.

"The psychiatrist asked if I would agree to be sent to a mental hospital, and I did. But when he told me I couldn't take Ellen and Hope, I changed my mind."

Instead psychiatric nurses visited her home twice a day and were available by phone round-the-clock and she was prescribed powerful anti-depressants to correct the chemical imbalance that triggered the homicidal thoughts.

Gradually the regime eased the anxiety, which was so overpowering Claire could hardly leave her house.

"The nurses taught me things like relaxation and breathing exercises to do whenever I felt a panic attack coming on.

"And they taught me to change how I think. I began to realise that running out of nappies didn't mean I was a terrible mother. I steadily won my happy life back."

Claire was also helped by volunteers from charity Perinatal Illness - UK. She still sees a counsellor once a week, and believes she has exorcised the demons that blighted the precious early years of her daughters' lives.

Now she wants other women to be aware of the illness so they too can seek help. She says: "I always thought postnatal depression was something that happened to other people - not me, who had no reason to feel depressed. But it affects all kinds of women.

"But I'm lucky. I got help and my marriage survived my illness.

"Postnatal depression is curable, but you must tell someone - before your life spirals out of control."

FOR more information on postnatal illness, including a test to discover whether you may have the illness, browse through our web site.

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Copyright: PNI-UK.