Carla Muller is a career woman and has a pedal-to-the-metal personality.
From 2014 to 2018, when New Zealand’s freshwater reforms were at the front of the government’s and farmers’ minds, she was knocking on doors as a consultant for DairyNZ.
While the job had its challenges, she enjoyed interacting with the farming community, the Hamilton city life and the freedom of a childless woman in her 20s.
She met her partner Sam, a shepherd at the time, in her second year at Massey University in Palmerston North.
Fast-forward 10 years, and Sam had the opportunity to manage a sheep station in a small town with a population of 207 – Tikitiki.
The closest supermarket is more than two hours’ drive away and same with the nearest hospital in Gisborne.
“You start thinking of the ramifications of getting pregnant there,” Muller said.
In 2019, while working in her dream job for Perrin Ag, she fell pregnant. In July 2020 baby Maddie was born in Tauranga Hospital. It was a six-hour drive away, but the safer option with Muller’s parents living nearby.
The young couple travelled back to the farm within a week and the cracks in their new lifestyle started to show.
At the time Sam’s job on the 2000 hectare station was at its most demanding. He would often leave the house at 7am on horseback and return in the evenings. Long days for him, but arguably longer for her and their newborn.
According to the Mental Health Foundation, postnatal depression affects 10-20% of women who have recently given birth. Living through postnatal depression can be overwhelming, with feelings of great sadness and pain.
“I hadn’t realised that once you have had a baby you are fundamentally changed and it is very hard to explain how big that change is.”
Having worked 10 years in corporate roles predominantly in a city, she struggled with the remote life.
“And all of a sudden you spend 24 hours a day in a house by yourself with a baby that doesn’t sleep … It was very lonely.”
Muller isn’t alone in the fact she gave up her world to become a mother with a farming partner.
“We are the mothers. It might mean losing a job, leaving your friends. Losing what you have spent 10-15 years building up, a life of your own.
“To change that and realise it is not going back to where it was before, we need to be able to mourn that. It’s not that it is worse, but it won’t look the same.”
Rock-bottom was where Muller sat mentally. Having never suffered from depression, she struggled with opening up to friends, family or professionals.
“Every time you would go in you would see a different doctor so you never formed that relationship where you felt you could let that stuff out.”
Muller struggled with being vulnerable and felt she could get out of the hole alone. In hindsight she couldn’t and needed help.
“All of a sudden someone like me who was high achieving, I had to say no to projects … then you are constantly worried that you are not doing enough at work or doing enough for your child and you’re not doing enough for your partner. I felt in all aspects of my life, I was failing.
“And of course none of that was true. I was trying my best.”
The isolation and postnatal depression put strain on the couple’s relationship, when they should have been enjoying life’s blessings of a new child, she said.
The hardest part for her was that feeling she wasn’t even enjoying motherhood.
“I think the big thing with postnatal depression is the idea that if you have chosen to have children and you are struggling, it means that you don’t love your child … and that’s not true. You can love your child and really struggle with being a mum.”
The break for the family came two years later when Sam was offered a job near Ōhope: she could be near town where she could get off the farm every day, and he could keep farming, albeit on a smaller block.
Having been through the worst time in her life and coming out of the other side, and having recently welcomed her second child, Lottie, Muller realised that it wasn’t necessarily the isolation that made her postpartum depression hard, but also not being honest with herself and exploring other options like online support.
Now living in a busier region, she has found the biggest difference has been PlunketLine, medical support and awareness phone line.
“We communicate better, you are aware of your triggers and that’s where counselling was critical. “
Getting off the farm is hugely important to her, as is having regular contact with friends.
Living in remote Tikitiki has given her respect for the many mothers in the rural back blocks of Aotearoa.
“They are incredibly strong and resilient with the challenges they face, but it is also rewarding.
Suffering from stress or postnatal depression?
If you want to talk, PlunketLine can help. Call any time, day or night, on 0800 933 922, or call or text 1737 any time to speak with a trained counsellor.
Suffering from depression or stress, or know someone who is? Where to get help:
Rural Support Trust: 0800 RURAL HELP
Depression Helpline: 0800 111 757
Lifeline: 0800 543 354
Need To Talk? Call or text 1737
Samaritans: 0800 726 666
Youthline: 0800 376 633 or text 234