Beware of the huge outpouring of sorrow following....don’t read if you can’t be bothered with whining, I’m just panicking.
I’m going for my 12 week scan in a week and a half and I’m terrified that, with my fear of actually having this baby, something will be wrong. I have a two year old and we decided not long after he was born that he would be an only child. However this decision was mainly pushed by DH , and though I now think that eventually I might have decided it on my own, at the time my attitude was that I didn’t agree, but decided not to argue too much as it was too early to be having that discussion. I told DH as much.
Let’s be clear here -I freely admit I’m not a people person let alone the type of person who likes children. I love my own little boy however, though I struggle with everything social that comes with parenting. Not so much lack of sleep, enforcing discipline and routine and the ‘responsibility’ parts, though they are not easy, but more interacting with other parents and kids, teaching him to be sociable etc, as I very much struggle with social anxiety. What makes me feel worst of all is that I struggle to just get down on the floor and play with him. I just am terrible at playing, and whenever I have tried to steer him towards something I can do well with him, like crafts or colouring in - we’ll he’s two, his attention span is non existent so it rarely lasts more than a couple of minutes and creates a huge mess. He’s a good boy in general, even I can tell this, but I guess my personality type isn’t suited to child rearing.
When our first born was a year and a half it was a bit of a golden time. DH and I had switched roles, he was the stay at home parent and I went to a new job as a shop assistant which I grew really attached to. The mix of a nice part time job where I could still come home and be a parent only half of the time made me forget how hard being a mum could be, and I started to get broody. After months of hormone fuelled pleading, DH gave in and now I am pregnant. Iv been working less and parenting my son more and reality has set in. I am not good at this parenting crap. What was I thinking? How will I cope? Iv not worn makeup regularly (as in at least once every month) since I was pregnant with our first baby three years ago. I have no hobbies and no time and motivation to start any. I have not been shopping in forever - I own one pair of bottoms (heavily worn holy jeans) and the same top in four different colours. I have a bag of casts offs from my friend that I dip into if I have to but she’s a few sizes bigger than me, and tbh I almost always wear either PJs or my work uniform so I don’t often wear my own casual clothes. What the hell happened to me? I didn’t get PND last time, but I bet I get it this time round.
I have only myself to blame, it was 100% my own decision to get pregnant , both times.
I’m a little annoyed that DH had to be so damn adamant about only having one child, because it made me fight against him more. If he hadn’t cared so much, I probably would have come to my senses. I had a hole in my life and I decided to fill it with another baby.
Jesus I am such a mess. I’m 26 and it feels like I have done nothing with my life. I have a happy family/Home life which others would kill for but I have done next to no travelling, we are dirt poor and my uni degree led to nothing. The only thing I can say is at least in our thirties and forties we will be more free to live our lives. There are people out there would would kill to be able to be pregnant, and here I am doing it when we are in no position to -emotionally or financially. We were poor before, but hell I grew up that way (my mother used to not only buy the cheap value washing up liquid, but dilute it with water too) so poverty seemed normal, but then about a month into the pregnancy things got very much worse and it’s so hard. We are borrowing money from family to get by and I am wracked with guilt. We can not pinch the pennies any more to save up - I was always already doing the little tricks and tips to save money and DH is sick of living off turnip and cabbage casseroles from WW2 recipe books.
Don’t get me wrong, baby no 2 will be loved to bits and will not want for anything as we are slowly getting back to normal, but like today, there will be times when my son will scream and sit down in a puddle on the way to nursery, spend the day hitting me and calling me ‘naughty mummy’ and this time I will need to cope with it with a newborn strapped to me, and god help me if it has reflux or any other sort of problem. It scares me so much, especially when my son was such an easy baby but I still struggled.
I am freaking out. How can I be excited for a baby and yet dread it so much too?