Today has been a more positive day for me in many ways. I guess the start of it, was that I actually managed to share some of my inner thoughts and fears with a member of staff this morning. Today, I said for the first time out loud, those words that no mother should ever utter; I hate my son!. The truth I guess is that it’s not so much that I hate him, but that I hate the person I’ve become since having him. I’ve become someone who is utterly useless at everything I do. I spend hours at work procrastinating, either from exhaustion or from the mere fact that my head has become so much busier since I’ve had my boy.
I wanted him so badly. I had my first miscarriage during my PhD. I never knew I wanted to be a mum so badly until it was cruelly taken away from me just a few weeks into gestation. Tow more miscarriages would follow, each one more devastating than the last. We had fertility tests, I had a diagnostic laparoscopy, we were then going on the waiting list for IVF. Whilst all this was happening I applied for a new job, accepted it and then boom, immediately found out I was pregnant. The joy is indescribable, as is the fear of telling my new boss, but what did that matter really, I was pregnant and this time it was meant to be.
On the 18th of Dec 2016 I gave birth to the most beautiful little boy you could ever imagine. The labour was quite traumatic ending in a ventouse delivery, but he was perfect, at least for the first couple of days. Then all of a sudden, and I hate saying this, but I began to be terrified of the life I had now created for myself. I’d lie awake at night listening for his breathing, petrified of cot death. I’d try daily to get him to latch on so that I could feed him as nature intended, but he couldn’t. I’d grow tired of his crying and I’m not sure when exactly this happened but I soon began going through the motions of motherhood, not really feeling that this little guy was mine, or that he loved me. For 14 weeks I hated my existence, and I spoke to a GP, but it was brushed off as baby blues. Given my past, I knew this was a little more than baby blues but I never went back.
Then one morning at 14 weeks old the clouds lifted, the resentment faded and I began to fell the love that every mother should for their child. Every little milestone, giggles, rolling, following objects etc made me burst with pride. It was what I imagined motherhood would be, full of love and laughter.
But then in August, I went back to work and I think that’s probably when this downward spiral reignited.
If you’re a mum and your trying your best, then believe me, you are the best mother in the world.