This week sees me turning 16 weeks pregnant and there is so much to feel positive about! No sickness, tons of energy and I’m out of the danger zone right? WRONG.
16 weeks to us is the start of what we have decided to label our ‘Danger Zone’ The second trimester of pregnancy has brought nothing but absolute chaos to our lives on three separate occasions.
Placenta Previa, Emergency Caesarean, Preterm Labour and the loss of our teeny tiny princess Grace are to name but a few of the hellish plagues, brought on by the glorious honeymoon period known as the second trimester.
I’m going to be completely honest, I don’t think I could have ever prepared myself for how I am currently feeling. Terrified to use the toilet for fear of what I may find. Questioning every little ache and pain and comparing it to that of preterm labour. Convinced that every toilet trip for a no:2 is the beginning of the end of this pregnancy. I am a woman on the edge and it is taking over.
After spending the last few weeks contained inside my own head and an absolute horror bag to be around, I decided to visit my GP.
I explained my symptoms and how I was feeling and I completely broke down. I’d behaved like a real bitch towards Scott, snapped at my beautiful boys and refused to admit that my anxiety was taking over. Consuming me in every way possible, like a dirty black cloud.
I was unable to think positively, to look on the bright side. I was unable to have faith in my stitch or in my own body. I was completely consumed by what ‘could’ happen and how I ‘could’ lose this baby.
My wonderful GP explained that I was OK. She reassured me that it was no surprise I was feeling so on edge. Our past experience was rearing its ugly head and I had to get it under wraps.
I was referred for some Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. I needed to vent and to organise my thoughts. I needed to get back on track so I could be the very best version of me and take care of my family. I want to support Scott through this difficult time. He had been cast to one side whilst I lost my way, and all the while he needed me just as much as I needed him. He has experienced exactly as I have and has his own fears too. I had forgotten that. I want to love and care for my boys in the way I always have. I don’t want to snap at them or for them to see me cry.
Since my visit to the GP I have realised that this is going to be one majorly tough journey. It is way harder than anticipated and at times we are going to struggle. As long as we do our best, recognise when we need help and take care of each other we will always be OK. Love will always see us through.
I guess I just wanted to say out loud that sometimes, ‘It’s OK to NOT be OK’.