Skip to main content

What is Antenatal Depression

We become pregnant, everyone congratulates us, amazing, well done, you must be so happy...... Umm nope! 

At first I thought, I would get a few sly comments from people, 'that was quick' but I overall I was chuffed. My boyfriend was chuffed too, we were going to make a go of it and raise a little family. Together. However, for me, this is when my 'perfect man' turned from loving to controlling. OR I turned from sane, pretty,  fit, fun Lola to insane, fat, ugly, useless housewife. 

I couldn't wash clothes the right way, dinner was not ready in time, C was not behaving the correct way, I was always late, doing too much for other people, I talked shit, was lazy, had a saggy arse and sex was not enough. True?? I thought so. It was confusing though because I was paid to live in the house and I had no money problems anymore. Anything I wanted I could have, if I asked.  I was always allowed out with my friends if it suited 2. Baths were ran for me on occasions and we would often go to the cinema to watch what he wanted to watch. He brought me clothes, shoes....Spoilt.... Right? 

My slender, toned, size 8 body was taken over by this thing that was growing inside. I knew I loved it but it wasent anything. It was a HUGE bump that came with lack of sleep, pelvic girdle pain, massive fat stores and it came with a man who I was trying to love and a man I was trying to fix. A man who couldn't love my child and a man who hated my new body... 

I can remember one Saturday we had picked up 2's eldest son and we were in town having a mooch.... I can't even remember what was said but it was yet another argument between him and his ex.... AGAIN. Every time she became involved in our lives, his eyes would literally glaze over, like a shark!  Obviously, at the time I blamed her.I hated the effect she had on my 'happy ever after' She affected my life massively and my step son affected C's life too. It was all based around her and his son. We did not get a look in.... Neither did this bump! I left 2 and the boys in town and went home. I knew that leaving C in town without me would mean he would get 'picked on'. I felt guilty.  I'm the middle of the living room floor on all fours and I bang my head on the wood floor, about 6 times. It did not hurt enough.... I stand up, walk towards the kitchen and bang my head 4 times on the kitchen wall.... Why was I not bleeding! Why was I not knocked out yet? 

One day I was so cross at 2 that I picked up C, dropped him off at his Dads and just drove.... I drove to a place where I was a little girl again. Drive to a time when I was loved. Tenby in Wales. My Nanny Thomas loved having me, she used to make me feel so warm and we watched musicals, cooked, swam in the sea, ate scones and always had Horlicks at bedtime. I wanted to run away and I seriously was thinking about giving up the baby and then I could just start again. C would not miss me.... He had his Dad. This new baby would get a good family. Or he could have his Dad. I was the one with the problem. Not him. BUT you know what made me go home.... Id be letting down the FitMamas. Who would teach tomorrow night? (Hindsight...!)

I'm really not sure how to describe Antenatal depression. 

I wanted it all to go away. I could not escape. I was completely  trapped in my own body. My voice could not be heard. My bump was vile. I was a disgusting mother. A disappointing 'wife' Even my 1st husband felt the need to disown me in my 1st pregnancy.... He needed to lie and cheat. It must ALL be my fault. 

Everyone deserved better than this! 

Yet I still smiled. No one knew. No one. 

Pictures from the book: The FitMama Method: Your Complete Guide to Confidence and Fitness for Birth. Author (my very clever Soul Sister) Marie Behenna

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This is Me

My name is Lola, I'm 28, a single mum of 2 gorgeous boys and I am the Co-Director of The FitMama Studio Ltd in Basingstoke.  Writing it down and seeing it seems exhausting enough...  I have started this blog to not only help me find my truth but help me through my journey to self worth and self love. It is intended to show those mummies who struggle, who are scared, who are unsure, who need courage and inspiration to take the steps to become a better version of themselves.  I want all mummies to know that 'its ok' and 'you are normal' and only YOU can find your own happiness and only YOU can change what needs changing.  I hope by following me you feel safer in knowing that your not alone.  Sending my Pixie dust your way ✨🌟

4 years on.... tomorrow, to the day. Spooky.

I announced last week that I was thinking of writing my blog again and had not thought much of it until today. I honestly just sat down and started playing around with the theme, the colours and my profile and as I started to actually write I saw that it has been 4 years. WOW. As I was flicking through my blog, I saw that I had something like 500 viewers. I did not even realise many people were even interested in what I had to say. It spured me on to share with you my experiences of all the many hats that I wear. I have lots of hats;  A mum to 2 boys with different dads, this comes with 2 separate hats that sometimes have to go together,  a step mum hat , a wife hat, a student hat, a business owner and sometimes I manage to get time in for friends hat ;) I am not a writer or particularly good at grammar or spelling....  I am sorry if my writing offends the grammar police ;)  So why have I decided to write again?   My mum reminded me of the small blog I started in 2013 and so I r

My own Bubble

I have had quite a few of you asking me, when is my next post. I have been wrapped up in my own little bubble, it's really quite nice in here.  On a serious note.  Writing down my past feelings brought back a lot of emotions and memories, some of which I had forgotten. I have needed to deal with this in my own way.  Writing this blog started my journey to true recovery. I decided to get rid of plastering up my emotions with antidepressants, no partying the nights away, no stupid training regime and no 'starving' myself or bingeing on chocolate.... These are my usual tricks to ignore the pain inside.  I have decided to feel my pain and let it burn. If I do not feel the pain, how will it go away? It wont, it will stay forever. All that pain will eat away inside, without me even realising. One day it will show its ugly head in the form of a bitter, twisted, single mum who hates men (and women) and will just be sad. I certainly do not want to be that person. I want to stay me.