The good, the bad and the pregnant

It's me.. Hi! I'm the problem it's me...

I feel as though I should have included a grand entrance considering my escape act almost lasted a year. I don’t have an Academy Award entrance planned, however I hope I haven’t lost most of you in the process of finding myself. By finding myself I mean, getting through life one day at a time without having a complete meltdown of catastrophic proportion.

Some of you figured by my poster what this post is about and if you are a female, I suggest you get comfortable and if you are a squirmish male, definitely take that smoke break. Let the unpacking commence!

Suffice to say alot has happened since my last appearance and I have missed you all incredibly. Who knew you needed a break to protect your mental health by avoiding a mental health blog... Ahhh the irony. Well, the good news is that I’m back and I have a few new developments since our last chat. I’m now a mom. A real life mother to a human being that grew from the size of a sesame seed into an angry, moody, cutesy and sassy human being that looks like her father and nothing like me.

I’d like to think I was just the oven that baked the pastry and the pastry came out looking like a triple layer, vanilla caramel, fresh cream cake... Nothing like me. Anyway, that’s my update but the actual reason for this post is a little deeper and much more serious. I hope you guys are ready because here goes...

I want to first start of by saying to every woman out there with PCOS, infertility issues, suffered multiple miscarriages and anything affecting your ability to start a family – this is not a post to show my lack of immense gratitude for the blessing I received. This post is my experience and I’m hoping that my experience can open conversations that need to be had with women suffering with the same problems.

I first found out I was pregnant two weeks after starting at a new place of employment. Not ideal. I saw the test and was in disbelief and my reaction was not what I anticipated it would be when that day actually came. I said it can’t be true and confirmed it with routine blood work. Still, I didn’t feel the emotions I saw other women express in the movies and on social media. The jumping up and down, the tears of joy and the beautiful posts on Facebook were just not there for me. I couldn’t understand it. I felt like a horrible, deranged and psychotic female that had absolutely zero maternal feelings. The guilt I felt because of my feelings ate me up as each day progressed.

I gave it a few months hoping after the ultrasound and heartbeat could be done, but still – nothing. No tears of joy, no overwhelming happiness and still no willingness to share the news with anyone. What could be wrong with me? Was I afraid of what’s to come? Not really. Was I nervous about giving birth? Nope, cause I didn’t even think that far ahead. To be honest I didn’t think about much at all. The exciting trips to baby stores to look at cute outfits and all the beautiful furniture was not on my to do list. I had no attachment to my baby. My heart was breaking as I confided this to my husband.

I will insert a personal journal entry below and I want to say posting something of this nature takes balls of steel. Well now I have momma balls so it’s the same thing:

“Diary entry 22 November 2024: Today is another bad day. I’m so tired of feeling this way. To my baby I’m so sorry for feeling this way and for making you sad too. I can’t help it. Anxiety is consuming me. I can’t seem to get out of this dark tunnel that is infinite, almost never ending. My heart is racing. I can’t breathe and I just need to come up for air. I didn’t think it would be like this. You know, when I imagined having you grow within me, I never imagined this. I expected sunshine every single day but all it seems to do now is rain. I hope by the time you are born, I feel better so you can have the mother that you deserve. Feeling your kicks is wonderful and seeing you at every appointment is astonishing but my heart sometimes doesn’t work with my brain. I can’t seem to appreciate what I have. This tunnel doesn’t allow me to see much light and oxygen comes and goes. I want this feeling to go away. Nobody understands and think that it will be ok... I hope they are right but then again they don’t understand. I wish I had pains or scars that ppl can see so that they can believe how bad it is. I suppose those scars will be within me and I’ll have seal them myself.”

Shortly after this entry I decided it was time to speak up. I told my OBGYN that I have been experiencing depression and anxiety on a level I never thought existed. I went back to my psychiatrist and we tried every possible treatment plan until I found one that actually helped, even for a few hours. For her, I’m truly grateful – she saved my life. As time went by I had good moments in the day but pounding in my chest and disassociation every day at intense rates and this occupied majority of my life. I had a few good days in the month and I cherished those days with all I had in me and was so hopeful things would get better.

My entire pregnancy was riddled with depression, anxiety and disassociation. I had no connection with my baby and no interest in anything in life. I had no attachment to my unborn child and honestly looking back and typing this, I’m holding back tears. I felt like the most useless mother in the world. I felt like even a criminal held more emotions than I did. I blamed myself because I thought I was the problem and it just became this vicious ball that got bigger each day running me over each time I got up. Why was this happening to me?

I tried prayer as I always do but it felt like this was something within my body that I needed to address. I needed to come clean to myself about how I was feeling and not sugar coat it. That’s exactly what I did. I spoke to my dear husband and asked for professional help since I was on a treatment regime prior to falling pregnant.

I searched on every social media platform and found maybe five posts I could relate to. How is this possible? Am I the only Indian South African with this problem? It can’t be possible, there is no way. I know it’s a difficult topic to talk about but it’s a topic that needs to be talked about. Pre natal Depression exists. It’s not a urban legend or something people make fun of. It’s not something that should be kept in the dark because there are women out there as you read this crying for the tenth time today wondering why they feel this way and how can they make it go away.

It’s time women spoke up about the not so glamorous side of pregnancy. It’s time we remove the mask and talk about the realistic side of pregnancy. It’s not just about bump pics and ridiculous cravings or being excited about everything all the time. There’s also a side that exists that is shielded due to shame and embarrassment – a side that is extremely dangerous and morbidly lonely.

I will say there was light at the end of the tunnel for me and things did eventually get better but I’ll leave that for part 2.

Feel free to comment your experiences and please remember to keep your comments kind. This is a safe space and negative comments will be removed. Till next time...