This is one of my first very serious postings on Mumsnet. I honestly don?t know where or how to start. The beginning was ages ago and far too long a story.
I am 36 years old. Until a few years ago, I was superbly happy, entirely satisfied with life and always up for a giggle. I had a huge zest for life. I have always been a worrier though, but it's never been as bad as it now. I am hugely depressed now, I barely leave the house, I can't stop crying, I am disgustingly vile to my partner who I hate to even look at now, I don't seem to remotely care how I look (was always well presented before) and I'm furiously angry with the world.
Last August I gave birth to my perfect little daughter at 41+3. I was so excited to be meeting her after her horribly stressful pregnancy which involved a house move and my partner's ex making our life a living HELL.
My labour (my first) was super fast; 4 hours and 13 minutes from start to finish. We'd had a heartbeat at 00:30. My waters broke clear at 01:40. She died in labour. Unknown to all of us. They tried to revive her for 17 minutes.
The pm suggested a very sub acute death, possibly in the final minutes. Her lungs were smothered in meconium. My poor little angel. She was so beautiful and so perfect. Very small at 5lbs 12 but the stupid hospital picked up on nothing. The hospital were horrific to us. My whole labour experience was terrifying. From being sent home, my begging to stay, they shook their heads, coming home, my waters breaking on my bed, we returned to hospital and the doors wouldn't open to let us in as her head was crowning. We were turned away from rooms by a coordinator who was being screamed at by the midwife ("there's a head!! She's giving birth!!") and I gave birth in a side room somewhere. The hospital have admitted negligence on over 7 counts. We are suing the arse off them. Not that it makes a difference to bringing our little girl back but their behaviour was nothing short of manslaughter as far as I'm concerned.
I have therapy twice a week; a bereavement councilor and a psychiatrist.
Nothing is helping.
I am now 11 weeks pregnant and struggling is an under statement.
My temper is violent and I am livid with everyone. Yesterday I lost it and through uncontrollable sobbing I smashed my little girl's frame with her ceramic hand and foot prints. For the first time ever, I felt hugely angry and disappointed with my late daughter for "doing" this to me. I can't explain. I'm typing too fast......
I'm pregnant and terrified. I'm pregnant and not; well, I barely notice that I'm pregnant. Other than the depressing and never ending treacherous morning sickness, I barely remember that I'm carrying. Until , that is, I think about it being a boy. Then my stomach turns, I go into a state of anxiety and panic, my temper flares and I collapse and sob. Sob uncontrollably.
This morning I have just returned from seeing my sweet GP where we discussed a termination. I am very aware that I'm suffering from acute A.N.D. but we are steering clear of the SSRI's until i am past my nuchal. Then I'll go straight onto 10-20mg of Sertraline or Citalopram to carry me as sanely as possible through the remaining long and terrifying months. In the meantime, I am seeing a top psychiatrist at St Thomas's, London who is a ray of light shining down on me during the 90mins that I'm with him. Then I leave his therapy room and everything comes crashing down around me. I return home and I fall into a terrible low that inevitably results in my being vitriolic towards my partner, the father of this unborn child.
We have talked about splitting up and it seems like it's very much on the cards. I would be keen to leave London and move down to Hove, East Sussex. I just think this is very unfair on my partner who is kid crazy and is desperate to bring a child up and he defines that as being under the same roof as this child. To be fair to him, I got us into this mess. I was the one desperate to be pregnant after losing our gorgeous little girl; I was the one begging him to ttc after the Xmas holidays; I was the one who told him begged him and pleaded with him, my parents and my best friends that being pregnant was the ONLY, ONLY, ONLY thing that was going to help me get better and to feel sane again.
Wrong.
How very wrong I was. How very foolish I am.
I am now 1000 times worse than I was. I have frequent suicidal thoughts; I am disgusting myself by sort of sickly wondering if the nuchal next week will go wrong and I'll have to terminate which will get me out of this pregnancy.
Do I want to terminate? Not 100%.
Do I want to continue? Not if it means like this.
It's like I'm almost willing this baby to die now before it dies later at full term. I am so unattached to whatever's inside me at the moment. I have no love there. At my 10 week scan last week, they asked me if I wanted the pictures and I said "no thanks." What was I playing at??? (Though I felt a little bit of fascination at seeing what was inside me.)
I am dreading having to tell people that I'm pregnant. I don't want to hear "congratulations" or "oh we're all so happy for you." Those sorts of comments make me want to punch these people!!!!! (I think I may need to go on an anger management course!). There is no congratulations; I shouldn't even have to BE pregnant. I should be here with my little girl, nearly 8 months old, gurgling away, throwing sweet potato mash all over the kitchen floor as she starts to take food, starting to giggle together, watching her figuring out what's what in the world and being smothered in so much love by her wonderful family.....not go to her grave daily to light her candles and read her "Guess How Much I Love You" at the foot of her grave as I sob my heartache away.
So now what? How on earth can I get my head around this pregnancy? How will I feel the love? How can I start to care? And what on earth will I do if the FMC tell me it's a boy next week...........................? I won't be able to cope. I'm very, very frightened.
To all of the angel Mummies reading this, my heart breaks for your loss. The pain of losing one's child is worse than any that I couldn't have possibly imagined.
Thank you for reading and understanding.
x