Brief backstory-
during my very complex pregnancy we was told my son had a less than 8% chance of survival, he was born ok but I knew there was something wrong. Was covid, doctors didn’t believe me, he was eventually diagnosed with a birth defect after surgery because I was so persistent. I had severe ptsd from thinking he would die and not being believed…
This led to a social services referral when he was 2 because the consultant didn’t know I was already in therapy and also didn’t understand the back story. Case closed very very quickly. But it traumatised me, to my very core.
I have since had another child, I am still in therapy to this day. I still very much have raging ptsd but no longer believe my son will die, I’m actually completely better from that side of things.
My ptsd now is down to the social services referral from years ago. When my 2nd child started showing signs of seizures, even though the neurologist saw it and validated my worries, the health visitor thought it was my anxiety again… it really wasn’t!
Its been so damaging; when my children become unwell with common childhood things, I’m terrified to seek help (I do, but it terrifies me), when my children get normal childhood bruises, I panic that someone will think I have done them. I’m constantly seeking reassurance that people think I’m a good mum. I know I’m a bloody fantastic mother but I am just terrified.
When the post comes, I’m almost sick incase there’s some sort of letter, when my phone rings, when I hear a car door outside the house.
My therapist is amazing, my sons school is AMAZING.
I just can’t shake this fear that my children will be taken from me??? It’s not constant; it comes in waves, for instance if I’m triggered with my anxiety by a cold for instance.
I probably sound stupid, please be gentle with me ðŸ˜