I’ve written that with a question mark because I don’t know.
I don’t know if I have that. If that’s what is going on with me.
My midwives and my GP have all proved themselves to be useless with the physical stuff, so I don’t want to talk to them about the other stuff. The stuff that is even harder to talk about. This feeling I’ve been feeling for months and months now.
There are people out there who struggle with fertility and people who can’t have babies and people who would desperately love to be in my position and I’m well aware that I moan. A lot. There’s more to it though. So much more.
I’m so grateful. Feeling down about things and stressed, and just generally not liking pregnancy very much doesn’t make me ungrateful. It’s normal. No matter how happy you are to be having a baby, pregnancy is hard. It’s tough on your body. It makes you tired. It makes you achey and sick too, sometimes. It may be the most natural thing in the world, but it’s a lot to put your body through. Especially the end bit.
Then there’s the birth. I’ve come to the opinion that while lots of medical help is necessary for some, for most of us birth would be a lot less stressful if we were just allowed to get on with it! I like all of the appointments and listening to baby’s heartbeat. It’s reassuring. I don’t like the constant threats of medical intervention that I just don’t need. Stretch and sweeps, constant examinations, ward admissions just because you’ve been pregnant for a certain amount of days longer than expected. I’m not there yet, but the threats have started.
A previous traumatic birth causes a sort-of phobia. I’m not scared of birth as such, but I’m terrified of the birth I previously had and of history repeating itself.
There have been days when I’ve wondered if having another baby is a really very stupid thing to do.
I’ve had fits of rage that are really panic. I’ve cried in public over stupid things. I’ve shaken and sobbed and been more scared than I’ve ever been before. I’ve constantly worried what’s wrong with me.
It came up during one of my many nights of insomnia spent googling what on earth could be wrong with me. It’s obvious now. I’ve always suffered with anxiety. I’ve been diagnosed before. I’ve taken medication for it long term before. It just didn’t occur to me that this was that, that pregnancy had its own anxiety conditions. I’ve read lots about post natal depression, but never of people having problems before the baby is even born. It makes perfect sense though. I have so much change ahead of me. Of course I am anxious.
I’m not going to push for any help now. I’m nearly there. I spent at least two weeks in a really blissful state after Iris was born. It was like a happiness had engulfed me. Perhaps that’ll return. Fingers crossed. In the meantime, it’s good to know that this thing is a recognised thing and that its normal.
Nearly there. Nearly the end. Just need to get there now.