Thank you @lavenderlilaclily
This morning I got in touch with Women Help Women because I've been feeling so fucked up and anxious and lost and helpless that I've decided to terminate.
In between bouts of sobbing and full blown panic attacks, I've been worrying about the following:
- Birth defects (all of them)
- If medical professionals can be trusted
- Honesty of the system
- Dying in childbirth
- All the numerous complications
- rupture
- the birth itself
- my body changing and feeling even more revolting in my own skin.
Compounded with a feeling of self loathing, uselessness (being unable to get through pregnancy, being a useless mother, being emotionally weak), disgust at this change that is happening, helplessness.
I spoke to my husband this morning, and I think this is the best choice for my mental health because if I feel like this after 2 days fuck knows how I'm gonna survive 9 months, and then the inevitable PND which runs in our family (mum had it, cousin had it, I've been diagnosed with depressive disorders before.
It's sad that I'm not cut out for this. I've always had a deep visceral fear of pregnancy anyway since I can remember as a child of 5/6, which got worse in my teenage years. Sometimes I have avoided even being intimate with my partner just in case anything were to happen, even with protection. I went to a Catholic school and when we were 12/13 or so we were shown a video of a woman giving birth and that just solidified it. It was really graphic. Camera shoved right up there. It was alike a scene from a fucking horror movie. I just remember all the screaming and the blood and the poo being pixelated out, and then the teacher coo-ing about how wonderful it all was! It was absolutely horrifying.
Fast forward to now - I feel like a useless wife, and daughter. I thought I might be able to give my husband something special. I see all these happy families, wondering if that could have ever been me, but I'm too afraid.
Both my mother and my mother-in-law are desperate for a grandchild and I feel selfish and crap. I wanted to make them happy too. (my brother has a kid, but the relationship is kaput and my brother and mum are being isolated from the child - my brother isn't even allowed to feed him or put him to sleep after over a year - a whole other story) - there's no way I can ever tell them about this. The thought of "breaking the news" while they all gloat and scream with joy while I scream with terror on the inside is something I don't really want to experience.
I just can't do any of this. It's a shame because I love my husband, but the thought of 9 months of torture that I can't escape from, with all the anxiety and self-loathing, terrifies me and at the moment it's looking like I'm going to have a full mental health breakdown.
I don't think I'd be a bad parent or mother, I'm just a crap incubator who is disgusted and terrified of what/is/will/might/could happen. We had a good cry this morning. He told me how much he loves me, that he's there for me no matter what. He says we can always try again, but to be honest I don't think I will ever be able to this is all just too much. I've spoken about this fear with my friends before and they all think that I am weird. None of them get it - so I can't talk to them about it either.
I literally have no one who takes any of this seriously or talk to about this. No friends, no OB/Gyn professionals (honestly they can be so dismissive and rude), no parents to talk to. Just my husband. And he's being so good I feel awful for putting him through this.
We've been together 16 years and are still desperately in love - he is my world and I can't imagine my life without him. I should count my blessings.
I feel so sad because this pregnancy was made out of love but I'm just too weak and fucked up. I'm just too petrified. Petrified I already have fucked up, petrified I'm going to fuck up, petrified my life is gonna end.
And this stupid fucking system doesn't make things any easier - I don't want to end up in a psychiatric unit tied down to some bed like a brood mare in a scene from the Handmaids Tale. So I don't even want to go and see a doctor or talk about how I'm not coping. Even if I could go I wouldn't be able to speak to them properly anyway.
The way I see it, it's like going for a ski-jump when you're terrified of heights and never had any training. I'm all suited up but I can't. I have to get off this ride because otherwise I won't survive.
I really thought I would be able to do this. Now I know I can't and it makes me so sad. Makes me feel like a useless woman - when others are so able to do it. I find it so amazing how women just embrace this, trust themselves, and jump in at the deep end.
A bunch of you might be thinking about how bonkers this is and how selfish I am but I haven't been able to sleep and flip between just staring at my phone or walking around the flat aimlessly.
Anyway, thanks for listening. I hope my package arrives soon because I honestly feel like I'm going insane.