I knew from the very beginning that I was not meant to have this child. With my first, I had to go into battle with my own body to get pregnant. It was a monthly strategic planning, coordinating pills, and hormones, and appointments and ultrasounds, week after week, and month after month, until I finally got that positive test a year later.
With my second child, It was a lot more simple. 5 simple pills, and a half attempt to get pregnant, and I got my positive test.
"That can not be right" What I call a "Mental Filter" told me. "It's not a viable pregnancy." So I called my OB and scheduled a dating Ultrasound. During my first ultrasound, they confirmed that I was pregnant, but it was too early to see a heartbeat. My Mental filter told me that of course there is no heartbeat. It's not this easy to have a baby. I am sure I will start bleeding and will miscarry before my next appointment.
This is how it went throughout my entire pregnancy. Every appointment, I went in bracing for the worst. That this child inside me would suddenly perish. Would no longer have a heartbeat. Would have a severe mutation that would make life impossible. I looked forward to my appointments because I was hoping that maybe next appointment was the one that I can start healing from the loss of my child. It didn't matter that every single ultrasound, every single blood test, heart rate, etc pointed towards a happy and healthy baby and pregnancy. Even the tumor in my liver was behaving surprisingly well. This monster inside my head would not let me accept that everything was going to be ok. I refused to attach to this child while I was pregnant because I needed to protect myself from the pain that was just around the corner.
As I entered into the third trimester, I finally was able to feel him inside of me. At this point, it started to become really hard on me emotionally. I did not want him to come out because for now, he was perfect. At this time, the world outside of my womb was crumbling. My sister in law was quickly losing her battle with Breast Cancer. Suddenly my son's impending doom became a gigantic problem. I realized at this time that it was not going to be just me that will be heartbroken. My entire family was going to be crushed when my son did not make it. By this time, I had accepted that he was fully protected from harm in my womb. But I had also accepted that my son was to be a still born. Once again, there was no medical evidence that something was wrong, but my mental filter said otherwise.
Weeks before I was due, My SIL was hospitalized. The cancer had reached her brain, and she had a life and death decision to make. She chose life, no matter the pain, she chose to be there for family, and face whatever physical consequences that brought. This was supposed to get her better before she started to decline again, and then we would lose her. We were looking to be lucky to have 6 months.
Also during this time, My daughter got very sick. She had sores all over her mouth, inside and out and down her throat, and was unable to eat or drink anything. She was in and out the the doctors every day, and finally ended up in the hospital. I was helpless, and I was guilty because my daughter needed me 100% and how was I supposed to do that when I was 8 months pregnant. I was a horrible mother for allowing another child come between me and my daughter.
Now this mental monster started to play on my emotions even more. How dare I decide that now was a good time to have a baby. There was no reason that I should be allowed to have so much joy and love come into my life, especially when there is so much pain and suffering in the family. I had incredible guilt. I wished the pregnancy never happened. I wanted it over with . I wanted to go back in time, and stop myself from making this horrible mistake! It was no wonder that I was destined to have my child die before I truly met him. I was selfish. If there was a way that I could have stopped and paused this pregnancy, I would have done it without hesitation. I can not even begin to tell you how much I hated myself for allowing myself to have a baby at this time.
3 days before Paxton was born. My sister in law died. We did not get 6 months. We did not get 6 weeks. We barely got 6 days before she was ripped away from us. She was gone. Just like my little boy would be in just a few short days. I was mentally incapable to handle this much loss. This mental filter had finally taken over me. I was so distraught, my emotions just left. I could no longer cry. I could no longer feel happiness. I was staring at a bottomless pit and slowly sinking towards the edge.
The day of induction came. I arrived and gave birth to the most incredible little boy I could imagine! With his birth, it brought tremendous love, and light, and enjoyment to my life. He was here. He was safe. He was beautiful! and he was breastfeeding! It was a super easy birth. No complications, and I was overwhelmed by the love that I had for this little stranger that was placed onto my chest. This blast of happiness was very short lived because we still had to figure out how we were to attend the funeral of my SIL within 48 hours. All my emotions came back tenfold as reality sank in again.
The service was beautiful. There was so much love for her. And so much heartbreak. I held on to my baby boy with all my heart. He was the only thing that was keeping me grounded at this time. For the next couple weeks, my mental monster toyed with my emotions to every extreme. Insane happiness, spiraling grief, or raging anger.
My mental monster would not let me accept that everything with my son was great. There was still an ongoing voice telling me to enjoy Paxton while I can. It would be any time, and he would be gone. If not him, then it would be Lexi. I would not leave Paxton alone anywhere. I would not let Lexi near him unless I was within fingers reach, because i would never forgive myself if Lexi was the cause of his death. Lexi was also to be in the same room as me at all times because someone was going to sneak in the front door and try and take it.
It did not matter how much proof that reality offered that everything was fine. I was looking at the world as a dangerous place because of this filter of fear this Mental Monster kept in front of me at all times.
8 weeks PP, at my checkup, I finally asked my doctor is there was such a thing as Post Partum rage. We talked about PP Anxiety, and what it is, and who it affects, and what can be done about it. I was placed on anti-anxiety meds, and after some trial and error, I finally feel like I can almost function normally.
Paxton is now a year old, and I still fight Anxiety attacks on a daily basis. I still worry all the time that something could happen to any of my kids, or even my husband, But now that I have medications, and an amazing support system with my family, and a Postpartum support group, I feel like I can manage it. Some days, I need to put a lot of focus into what reality is, and what the Mental Monster filter is trying to tell me. I have to go over facts to myself about how everyone is healthy and safe.
I have no idea why I decided to type all this out. But I guess I could say that no matter now dark and bottomless your hole may seem, you can see the light again, and you may realize that you are really just sitting on your bed, and the entire pit is just made up.
