Jenna has shared her story of anxiety, depression and birth trauma after her first child’s birth in the media to raise awareness and help others. Jenna is one of six PANDA volunteers who helped us develop a new factsheet for expecting and new LGBTIQA+ (lesbian, gay, bi/pansexual, tran/gender diverse, intersex, queer and asexual) parents.
We caught up with Jenna six months after she and partner Sam welcomed their second child into their family. We were keen to hear how being a two-mum family had shaped their journey.
How are you finding life with two?
It’s pretty busy looking after a baby and a toddler! But I think the timing was right for Harriet, she likes being a big sister. It’s full on. But we’re doing pretty well.
We’d love to hear more about your experiences as a two-mum family. In the fact sheet, we discuss how discrimination can impact on people’s mental health. Was that part of the picture for you?
For sure. For us, the anxiety really started during the pregnancy. We were already a bit anxious, having experienced two miscarriages. But the biggest thing was seeing the experience of a close friends of ours. They had their daughter six months earlier. They had planned to have their antenatal care in a big maternity hospital. But it was a really bad experience. The midwives weren’t inclusive at all! In antenatal classes, they only talked about ‘mums and dads’. They’d divide the group, saying, ‘All the mums this side, all the dads over here’. Our friends never went back. They ended up using general practitioner shared care for the rest of the pregnancy.
For ourselves, we decided to try a community midwifery clinic. We had so much anxiety leading up to our first appointment at 24 weeks! We wondered – do we have to go? Will we get treated the same way? In that first appointment, all the questions were about my history, and the donor information. Sam didn’t really feel part of it. They were welcoming, but the medical model is so straight!
At that point, we could have just gone with shared care from our doctor, who is great. But we stuck with it, and eventually let our guard down. And so did they. And they were amazing! At my lowest point after Harriet was born, our midwife visited. She thought, ‘Okay, something is not right here’. She identified it before I did. She referred me to the psychologist and the doctor, and did lots of extra visits. And she did extra visits after Robbie’s birth as well, because of my history.
So fear of discrimination caused a lot of anxiety for both of you before Harriet was born. Did you ever experience discrimination from any of your healthcare providers?
Oh yes. The worst one was at a lactation service we were referred to, because I had trouble breastfeeding. The midwife said to me and Sam, ‘So, who’s going to be the dad?’ We were so sleep deprived, we just looked at each other. We were blown away! People throw in all kinds of assumptions. It’s intimidating, and it can feel really degrading. Some of the comments we got, I still have to shake my head.
“Dealing with ignorance or discrimination is upsetting at the best of times. But if you’re already feeling vulnerable because of your mental health, it’s stressful to think you might encounter it from your healthcare providers or other services.”
And the questions! Before we’d even left the hospital, people are asking things like, ‘What are you going to call yourselves? Mum? Mummy? Mama?’ We figured Harriet will call us whatever she feels comfortable with. Even with Centrelink, it was over a year before we received the payments we were entitled to. No one knew what to do with us.
Once you become a parent, you often find yourself dealing with a lot more services - health professionals, child care, different government departments. That’s a lot of people you suddenly need to talk to about your family!
It sure is. Before I was a mum, I was selective about who I would disclose to about having a female partner. For me, it often wasn’t worth the hoo ha, correcting their assumptions that my partner was male. But having children means you are perpetually coming out: to child care, to doctors, to school mums.
It was uncomfortable always making decisions about whether to come out or let it slide. Being a new mum is exhausting enough. Add postnatal depression, and sometimes claiming my identity felt too much.
It totally makes sense. Dealing with ignorance or discrimination is upsetting at the best of times. But if you’re already feeling vulnerable because of your mental health, it’s stressful to think you might encounter it from your healthcare providers or other services.
What was your experience like with family and friends?
It’s the hardest when it comes from family, because they are blood. Or from close friends. I don’t think my extended family ever truly understood my life, and my choices. Growing up, they’d pass comments on people in the street, if they perceived them as gay or whatever. But before we had kids, I never felt like they had an issue with Sam. Not one they said out loud!
But the comments after we become parents – they really blew us away. Things really spiraled when they implied that I was basically a single parent. Sam works long hours. But as I said to them, they’d never say that to me if my partner was a man! How is it any different than when my dad was working seven days when I was growing up?
That led to a series of events that caused a big gap between my extended family and my partner. It all really added to my anxiety. I’d always been the mediator and the rock in the family. Eventually I had to say – I’m not going to be in the middle any more. I pulled back a bit. I needed to have Sam’s back – our family’s back.
It sounds really stressful.
It was. I had assumed that when I had my babies, my extended family would support me like they did my sister. But then there were all these comments.
I’ve done a lot of work on it. I had to, for my own sanity! I want them involved, but it’s taken time for me to say where I sit with it. The psychologist has been really helpful. Things have repaired a little bit now. But it’s exhausting. It makes me feel anxious just thinking about it.
What’s your advice for other LGBTIQA+ people who are expecting or new parents, and who are struggling with their emotional wellbeing or their mental health?
As much as you can, try to surround yourself with people who love and accept you and who understand how you feel – whether you’re happy or sad, whether you’re celebrating or you’ve had a loss, and just draw on their support if you can.
And find the right services and health professionals for you. During the pregnancy, but afterwards as well.
Try to let your guard down a little. You go in being so protective of yourself and your family. As a first time parent, it’s bloody terrifying anyway. But not everyone is going to have a go, or make comments. If you do have a bad experience, or it just doesn’t suit, seek out something else. It might be trial and error. Even with a psychologist, the rapport might not be there. Seek help wherever you can, until you find the right fit.
The PANDA National Perinatal Mental Health Helpline is inclusive of all expecting and new parents and their carers. Our counsellors can support you, and help you find other inclusive services and support. They are trained and experienced in working with birth and non-birth parents in LGBTIQA+ parent families.
Our fact sheet 'Emotional and mental wellbeing for LGBTIQA+ expecting and new parents' has information, lived experience stories and tips for LGBTIQA+ parent families on getting support.
Mental health checklist
How are you going?
Everyone’s experience of pregnancy, birth and parenting is unique and brings different rewards and challenges. Our mental health checklist can help you to see if what you’re experiencing or observing in a loved one could be reason to seek help.