I posted in pregnancy choices and one kind person wrote a really thoughtful post.
I’ve gone to therapy and I see her weekly but here I am, back am again at 1.15am. Wide awake. Freaking out.
I’m struggling. Big time.
My partner has a strong desire for kids. I have never wanted them. I like being a fantastic aunt, and then having my life back. We tried for a few years in case it happened and then I agreed to some fertility treatment which showed I didn’t ovulate and have low egg reserves but husband was totally fine. I agreed to take some Clomid which at first didn’t work. I figured I could demonstrate that I was trying and I hoped along the way either I would magically start wanting children or my husband would agree to stop.
Well now I’m pregnant. And I don’t want to be. I thought I would want to have our child but everything about child rearing fills me with dread. I’m autistic and I need peace, quiet, and my horses. There’s a chance I could have a child with autism.
I’ve had multiple panic attacks and melt downs since finding out and the only way I can keep it at bay is by working all hours and then mindlessly scrolling on my phone. My husband and I are sleeping in separate beds tonight. I am breaking his heart and I feel like a monster - why don’t I want this? Why can’t I make myself be excited about decorating a nursery and learning to breastfeed or buying bottles and steriliser? Why am I not excited to meet a mini version of myself and my husband? To teach them to read, to ride?
Wtf is wrong with me?
It’s really early days (4 weeks, only just missed period) so it might all resolve itself without me, but how can I go ahead if it doesn’t? I am so stupid for thinking my views would change. I believed everyone when they said “it’s different when it’s your own” or “it’ll happen for you”. I love my husband so much and I want him to be a dad, but I don’t want a life of tantrums, nappies, potty training, early bird dinners, school runs, spilled drinks, struggling to get them into clothes, running to get 20 mins on my horse between naps/feeds, losing my nerve. Of being too autistic to be able to deal with sensory experience of parenting. I just saw a post now about a toddler shitting in the bath. Every fibre of my being recoils at that.
i think I need to terminate, which my husband agrees with on a head level, but he’s heart broken really. then I’ll go away and let him grieve. I love him so much - been together 16 years - and I wanted to want this so badly. I know he’ll be a great dad and I so wanted to be the one who got to keep him as my husband and father of my child.
I wish I knew what was wrong with me, but if I’m seeing a therapist to try to persuade me to go ahead, what kind of person does that make me? How can we ever come back from this, either to have the child or not? I’m so sorry I’ve dragged this out so long and done this to him. I cannot picture how we can have a child. Our lives are so busy and separate. His business about to go stratospheric (like multi million valuation) and that leaves me holding a baby. I love my job - I am an academic at a prestigious university.
We don’t know anything about night feeds, we can’t change nappies, we don’t know how to feed a baby, we don’t know how to deal with car seats - and when would either of us ever have time to deal with learning all of that? How will he cope with my post partum frailties like bleeding, stitches, unable to drive, missing riding, feeling lonely, with cracked and bleeding nipples from establishing breastfeeding, all while trying to run his business? He can’t cope when I’m mentally unwell. He will just be working and then coming home to a crying, leaking, painful wife, and a screaming infant. How will we get through our child’s teenaged years when they drink, smoke, do drugs, develop an eating disorder like I did, yell that they hate us, knowing that I could so easily let it slip in anger that having them ruined my life, or I never wanted them, or I had a panic attack finding out that they existed, or that we nearly split up over keeping them? it seems unbearably cruel to have a child enter the world into those circumstances. Unbearably cruel to my husband to terminate, and a fast track to me losing my rock and stay, my safe place, and leave me vulnerable and lonely once again, dealing alone with my ageing mother (79yro). But I should want to raise a child, not fear being alone. What’s wrong with me? Can I go ahead with a pregnancy feeling like this and still end up loving being a mum and finding that life fulfilling? Or am I destined to fuck up the child? Or will I magically be happy that I gave birth, which itself fills me with horror? I’ve never even touched a woman’s pregnant belly (I’m 37) as the whole thing is just alien, gross, and terrifying to me. Why am I like this? Can I overcome these feelings?