As my journal can attest my writings are usually Insomnia induced. I know it's been a while since I've sat down and dared to release my brain on the world but tonight I needed to write. I stopped writing after my son was born because I felt like I should write what happened, the birth story. But I didn't want to, it was so hard to live with all of the emotions that were happening and make sense of them. As with most of my life I just wanted it to go away so I pretended like it didn't happen but it didn't go away. In fact most of it is still very vivid in my memory and still creeps up to haunt me in the night, easier to think about with time but still not ok.
I could have probably gotten away with still writing about other things going on in my life and not talking about it as some people do and people would have understood that it was too personal or I just didn't want to talk about it but everything else in my life I would describe the same way. Too personal and I don't want to talk about it. So I didn't for two years. But now I'm pregnant again and emotions are high and I need more than I am getting from life right now. I need these things to not be inside of me where the baby is. I want this baby to feel all of the joy and good things it's older brother felt when he was inside of me but I can't. I don't know if prepartum depression is a thing but if it is I think I've got it.
I was so excited for the first one, I was on the internet every week or two looking up the development of the baby. What fruit are they going to compare it to this time? I felt sometimes like I was growing a grocery store not a baby. When does it's heart start beating, when does it grow fingernails, when will I feel it move? Will it have hair when it's born, all it's fingers and toes, what color eyes will it have, will it look like me? I wrote regular updates to my brother Tim who was on a mission at the time. My only worry was that I would somehow have to go through labor alone. I was completely confident in my ability to handle pregnancy, labor, and being a new mother.
My husband and I picked a birthing center instead of a hospital and he went to every single appointment with me. I shunned birthing classes telling myself if my grandmother could give birth to six children (presumably) without taking any classes then I didn't need to either, that if I was in tune with my body everything would be fine because this is what my body was made to do. The midwives suggested practicing handling pain by holding ice in my hand for as long as possible but I thought, "I really hate ice and cold and that's not what labor is going to feel like anyway so what's the point?"
Things were so up and down I thought often, "I should write this down, I could write a book about everything that's happened." But then the day came when my son was born and I didn't even want to tell my friends and family what happened let alone write a book that potentially millions of strangers would read. I found the seemingly innocent question of, "Did you have a C-section or a natural birth?" (or other variations) extremely hard to answer especially when it was asked right after or preceding the question of how big my son was when he was born. I never realised before then what a personal and potentially intrusive question that could be and vowed to never ask anyone that question myself. Even harder was the news we received 2 weeks after he was born. The crucial, life changing news that the hospital neglected to tell us before we checked out. When they pulled Samuel out of me I had torn...a lot. I forget the names of things now but the tissue had torn 3 centimeters on both sides of the cut, the arteries on either side, and the muscle on my right side.
Our midwife ordered us not to try to have more kids for at least 2 years. In 2 years it would heal as much as it was going to and things would be safer after that. Because of that and what Marley went through in the hospital that day he never wanted to have any kids ever again, it was too scary for him. I didn't know, I certainly felt that way then 2 weeks postpartum but felt it was waay to early to even discuss things like a second child.
About a month before Samuel turned two we found out I was pregnant. I had been really stressed out lately because I was in the process of trying to get a new job and feeling really unhappy with life. I thought I was late because of stress. It had happened all the time when I was in college but the last time I was late I was pregnant so I took the test so I could have one less thing to be stressed out about. But it came up positive...I didn't know how to feel, Marley and I ended up staying up late that night talking and crying. If not for the circumstances it would have been really nice, Marley and I hadn't opened up to each other like that in a really long time.
Unfortunately, one of the first things he did was look up the plan B pill to see what the rules were for taking it. After that he told me he was all in but then immediately asked if there was something else I could take to end the pregnancy, somehow thinking that there would be something that could be done that wouldn't be an abortion. I feel betrayed by the man who once promised to support me in everything I do. Last time I was afraid of doing it alone but I wasn't because he was always there through everything giving me strength and support. I've since learned, but am still working on, to ask for what I need from people so I figured next time around I for sure wouldn't be alone because I would have more than my husband to support me, but instead I'm more alone than ever because I don't have him this time. And that's the worst part of all, more than the huge pile of fears I have this time around, is not knowing that he's going to be there for me.
There was no discussion this time around about Midwives, Doulas, Birthing Center, Home Birth, or Hospital. Marley assumed it would be in a hospital because he's too afraid of doing anything else now. I've realised there's no point because I can't afford the Birthing Center this time around anyway. But I'm scared. With Samuel there was no time out to figure out why he wasn't able to come down into the birth canal so I don't know if it is likely to happen again or if there's anything I can do to do it differently this time.
We waited a full week this time before telling anybody about it and I had a really hard time telling my family about it and haven't actually told anyone besides them. Marley has told people and I haven't denied it when people have found out and asked me about it but I'm not excited. I haven't been on the website even once to find out what my baby is growing this week. I don't feel connected to or concern for the baby except for what all these negative emotions I have about it are doing to it. I haven't picked a hospital or even a doctor for that matter and even though I'm 15 weeks in haven't been to a single appointment.
At first I was ignoring it hoping it would just go away, knowing that if I told people that would be admitting it was real. I rode roller coasters and felt guilty afterwards, then hopeful, then even more guilty.
My life is good right now if I can forget that I'm pregnant. I got a new job that I enjoy and I actually get to see Marley more than twice a week. Samuel is in swimming and tumbling classes and seems to love everything about life. He's finally sleeping through the night...I'm not.
I take my prenatal vitamins and try to do something productive around the house at least once a week, that's all I can handle right now.
