WOOHOO! 2008!
I have been avoiding you. Several times in the past week I have thought of posting something glib and amusing, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so—I do try to be honest here, and honestly? I am not doing well.
Lately I have taken to writing this entry in my head as I go about my day, only to sit down at my computer and lose my nerve. If you are still trying to get pregnant, this may not be the post for you. May I suggest instead a Google image search for “baby goat?” You won’t be disappointed.
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I can’t remember for certain when it started, but my guess is Christmas Eve. I think at the beginning it was some combination of weather-induced house arrest during the darkest pit of a Minnesota winter and too many days off work with nothing to do but wander the dim corridors of my own mind. It began with a constant low-level anxiety that soared into a panic attack if I dared take a midday nap (an odd phenomenon I have experienced before, waking from a nap into anxious despair). Going back to work helped, a little, but then it was the weekend again, and things disintegrated rapidly into profound, constant anxiety with the occasional panic attack and crying jag. I started having trouble eating and began to worry over the fact that while I have had only one abnormal sugar since being back on the Metformin, I am not eating nearly the amount of food required by my GD meal plan, making the time before meals fraught as I scramble to think of something, anything I can bear to consume.
During all this, Scott was sparring with our upstairs neighbors, a pair of young, loutish drunks who moved in recently and have taken to playing bass-heavy music and tromping about at all hours of the night. Scott called the police once or twice, and slipped into a funk of his own, deciding we should move as soon as as our lease is up—perhaps buy a house, now that I have decided to stay in the Twin Cities for grad school. The talk of moving two months after giving birth to twins nudged my anxiety further skyward, and I resorted to taking a dose of the anti-anxiety medicine I had managed to avoid all pregnancy long (though I have continued my Zoloft).
Over the weekend things went from anguished to anguisheder and Scott rushed home from work to comfort me during a particularly bad spell. Seeing him worry makes me feel terrible, and I think I have said “I’m sorry” more in the past week than in the rest of my life combined.
Monday morning was my level II ultrasound, an event I had been looking forward to for weeks, but which I found difficult to enjoy over the nauseated thrum of panic behind my sternum. For parts of it I felt strangely detached, and horrified at myself for feeling such detachment, though eventually I was able to get into the spirit of things, laughing at the antics of my wiggly babies and marveling over their perfect feet. My peri visit after the ultrasound helped a bit as well—the Science Babies were pronounced “ideal,” and my weight gain has miraculously caught up at 18 pounds, despite my lackluster appetite.
But back at home, things veered back to awful, and that night I reached my lowest point:
Panicked and desperate to regain the bliss I had felt only a week before (had it only been a week?) when I started feeling the bubbles of fetal movement, I took out my new ultrasound pictures. To my horror, looking at them resulted not in a warm, maternal feeling, but an immediate wallop of nausea and terror as I realized that currently residing inside my abdomen were two entire, separate-from-me human beings, for whom I was and would be completely responsible. They felt like strangers. And following closely upon the terror of that reaction was a wave of shame and self-hatred the likes of which I have never felt before. How could I be afraid of my own babies? How could I be afraid of what I spent three years trying for? What was wrong with me? What if I couldn’t do this? What if this was a mistake? Could the babies tell how I was feeling? What if I am too anxious to take care of them? What if they hate me?
Cue anguished sobs. It was hours before I could bring myself to tell Scott what was wrong, and even then I couldn’t look him in the eyes as a refrain of “Bad Mother, Bad Mother” hissed through my head.
Yesterday was brutal, but last night the clouds parted briefly after I took another forbidden anti-anxiety pill. (Not exactly forbidden—I am allowed to take them for panic attacks now that I am out of the first trimester, but no one seems clear on how often is safe). I ate a large piece of cheese. Scott and I talked and laughed and went to bed early. Hope glinted distantly on the horizon. Alas, I woke to a slate wiped clean of progress.
So here is where I am today: I can’t eat, and am perpetually on the verge of tears. I thought the second trimester was supposed to be the even-keeled golden-period of pregnancy, and instead here I am, at twenty weeks, miserable and hating myself for it. A week ago I was wandering around in a happy daze, tapping my belly to get the babies to move. A week ago looking at a onesie gave me a thrill of excitement, instead of propelling me out the doorway of Target to hyperventilate in my car. I don’t know what happened. Rationally I know that the anxiety caused the baby-related panic and feelings of incompetence, but the anxiety is still squatting unwelcome in my chest, making rationality difficult to sustain. And I don’t know what caused the anxiety. I want desperately to believe that this is hormonal, as the last time I felt this way was was almost exactly a year ago (see this post), after a stressful chemical pregnancy. But in my darker moments I think that it might instead be some fundamental and insoluble insufficiency in my mental makeup.
Don’t get me wrong, in the past week I have had my moments of clarity, moments in which I snap back to myself long enough to pat my daughter’s head where it is wedged against my ribs or assure myself that this too shall pass, but they are only that—moments—and moments just aren’t cutting it right now.
I am terrified to post this, have in fact been staring at the “publish” button for over an hour. There is a lot of pressure to be happily pregnant, and after infertility, that pressure is enough to create whole fiercely glinting diamonds of shame. However, some very kind email from concerned readers is making me temporarily courageous, so here goes nothing.
68 Comments
Oh honey, don’t feel guilty. We all get scared when pg, even those of us who suffered infertility, and especially those expecting twins. You’d be nuts to be to anxious and scared about the reality of caring for newborn twins and I won’t lie, it’s hard. But you will survive. I remember when I was pg w/my twins thinking “This is the best part of this whole journey. The infertility is over but I don’t have to actually care for two infants yet.” and I treasured that pg because I knew how soon it would be over and the real work would begin. May I suggest talking to your peri about this? I know that there are meds that you can take while pg to cope w/anxiety and depression and it’s way better to get on top of this now. After you give birth you will likely need some meds for Post Partum, most twin mommies do. And don’t feel bad to ask for help. The worst part would be to NOT get help. Don’t suffer any longer and don’t feel guilty. What you are feeling is perfectly normal and doesn’t make you anything but realistic and anxious about the huge undertaking you are about to take on. So get to your doc and tell him/her all about this and get some help. Hang in there and don’t be ashamed to post about this. Most of us have been there to one degree or another. Hugs. Keep us posted.
Its okay to be scared, and I would think doubly so when you’ve been through ALL you’ve gone through. Parenthood is scary. Wonderful, but scary.
Hugs to all of you. Thanks for sharing.
That was supposed to say “You’d be nuts NOT to be anxious and scared…” Just wanted to clear that up!
I’ve had a few “what the hell did I do? I can’t do this!” panic attacks lately as well. I think it’s pretty normal, and worse in those of us predisposed to panicking. Hang in there and know that we’re all out here rooting for you. I’m sure you’ll be (and already are) a fantastic mother.
And even if it is a “fundamental” part of your mental makeup, it may not be insoluble. Maybe a different dose of Zoloft would help get your brain on an even keel?
Isn’t it funny how even when we know that are brains are misfiring, it feels SO REAL when it’s happening? For me, it’s not until I’ve fixed the problem (ie, gone back on meds, changed the dose, whatever) that I can look back and go “Oh. All that was for no real reason.”
Brains. They’re so stupid sometimes.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I think it’s wonderful to have things like this floating around on the web for other people to stumble on one day, and feel less alone when they go through the same thing!
Pregnancy is scary. It’s scary to suddenly realize you’ll be responsible for raising another person. Enough to make you think, “Who thought that it would be a good idea to let me be a mother?” And have battled with infertility probably doesn’t help. After spending years trying to get (and stay) pregnant, of course you’ll sometimes have feelings of detachment (harder to get hurt if something happens if you aren’t attached) or panic (of the “OMG, what have I done?” variety). All this to say that your feelings are as normal as anything during pregnancy is.
And hormones can be blamed for pretty much any emotional freakouts from when you got pregnant to when Science Babies are a year old.
oh oh oh– sending thoughts of calm.
i am forever saying to my pregnant clients that how good or comfortable they are at pregnancy has NOTHING (really, zip, zilch) to do with how good or comfortable they are at being a mom. they are totally seperate experiences, and often the most miserable, anxious pregnant woman make the most calm, loving mothers. i’ve no doubt that’s where you’re headed. thanks so much for sharing.
I’m so sorry you’re in the “freak-out zone.” I think we all, to some degree, have had those moments (my most memorable Big FreakOut was almost 10 years ago, right before my wedding (to current and only husband): “I don’t know this guy! What the hell am I doing?”)
I also wouldn’t underestimate the role that hormones are probably playing right now–for me, they tend to be my biggest Mistresses of Anxiety. I hope it abates soon and you’re able to eat cheese more freely and enjoy the babies’ movement before it starts to feel like a kung fu demo in your belly.
Well yes - we have been a bit worried - so thanks for writing… Not to make this about us or anything.
;)
I’m so sorry about all the anguish - great advice above on talking to care giver and getting dosage adjustments and such.
The pressures on the pregnant are truly endless - you are right about that. We must be healthy, and sturdy, yet willing to be constantly patted and accepting of (useless) assvice with equanimity. And on and on it goes.
And as for the fear… We are all smart to fear our kids… They are a force of nature. But with benefits.
Sorry about the neighbors too - how sucky.
I’m blaming the hormones here. you are not just pregnant, you’re pregnant with twins — that’s big! huge hormones happening! I think it is very normal to feel overwhelmed and anxious. please give yourself a break. deep breaths.
I have not had a moments peace since my bfp. I feel worse now than I did during all my 4 IVFs. the stress and worry is making me sick to my stomach. all I want to do is go to sleep and wake up in 8 months. it’s sucky. after all we’ve been through with IF it would be soooo nice to enjoy this. impossible in my mind.
I’m so sorry that this is so hard. I hope things get better soon.
And, I think it is great that you are so honest. I can see why you would be hesitant to put this out to the infertility community…but I think it is great. I think it is natural to have concerns and question. I also think that is what is going to make you a great mother.
I hope things look up better soon. We are here for you.
I thank you for posting this post! You have NO IDEA how much this post makes me love you more(is that possible blogger love). I am 14 weeks and I could not have written a better post on how my week has gone. I just cry and fear is looming over me. I do hope that things for you get less anxious for you very soon. I am so sorry that you are going through all of this anxiety - you deserve much better
Don’t feel guilty over being scared. Hell, I’m terrified of caring for children, and I’m not even remotely close to being pregnant yet. Kids are scary shit.
But, really, I hear they’re also totally worth it. And I am positive that you will be a fantastic mother to those two science babies. Because the fact that you’re so scared of taking care of them just shows how much you really do care for them and want to protect them. You will do great, I’m sure of it.
Here’s hoping that 2008 brings less anxiety!
OMG, I can’t believe you ever have emotions! I mean, really? And if you do, they’re not all HAPPY? What the hell?
How dare you be, you know. Human? I mean, GROSS.
Seriously, though, I am also sending you calming breaths of a zen-like quality, hoping the absolute best for you, and also hoping that you know you can and SHOULD blame this on hormones. Those things are crazy bitches, lady. CRAZY.
Also, I love your title. Yay!
Thank you for writing this post. While I’m sure what you are going through is completely normal for anyone who is pregnant, going through the trials of infertility first is bound to make it even worse.
I wish I could give you a hug or offer you a shoulder right now.
While I am no where near a BFP and haven’t been more then a little pregnant at any given point, I have had crippling anxiety (it’s giving me a reprieve right now). I can’t imagine how much pregnancy can affect that anxiety or vice versa.
I have no assvice, but I do have an example. My sister had somewhere along a negative amount of maternal instinct. I was terrified at the thought that she would some day have children. Two children later and she’s a wonderful mother! And her second pregnancy…until the child was born she was so depressed and anxious because she didn’t think she could love a second child. It all changes once you’re holding your baby. I’ve seen it.
On the Zoloft note…if you ever have a free moment, I’ve got a question about that. I’d really love ask if you could email me.
I was definitely wondering where you were these past few days. I’m so sorry to hear you were/are in the depths of despair. This is by far the scariest thing I have ever been a part of, so as far as I’m concerned you have every right to be afraid. (Especially of moving with 2 month old twins - jeezum.) Seriously, though, try to embrace those feel good moments and try not to beat yourself up for all the other moments. These kids are “ideal” and you’re their ideal mother. So, bass blasting neighbors aside, things are going to fall into place once they arrive.
I’m glad you finally clicked publish, though. Not to get pleasure from your pain, but it’s so reassuring to know that there are other scaredy-moms out there.
De-lurking for the first time to say thank you. You’re the bravest of the brave, my dear, and so eloquently give voice to what I think many of us have ourselves struggled with, from time to time.
As sorry as I am for your state of mind (and I want to send you the hugest of cyber-hugs, and some virtual cocoa (spiked with an ativan)), I feel a little less alone tonight.
Plus, well, we’ve missed you. And not hearing from you is scary.
Pregnancy can be scary indeed, but I think what’s happening with you has to do with hormones affecting your panic trigger - it is so difficult to have panic tendencies. So impossible to control. Hormones are often shifting in pregnancy, so I hope that the next shift is right around the corner for you, and brings you the sweetest glowing bliss. In the mean time I would maybe get in touch with a proper doctor so they can make sure you’re on the best dosage of medicine. Hang in there…
We’re right here. We love you. We support you. You will be a wonderful mother; you only have to read your letters to the Science Babies to know that. Your babies will love you and yet still retain a sense of rebellion enough to give them their start as rock stars. You will be OK. We love you. We’re right here.
First, please do not feel badly for what you are feeling — ever. They are your feelings and valid. Second, I’m so sorry that you have been stuggling with this and ever doubted that this community would support you. Any member worth anything will rally around you (as they have!).
What stuck a cord for me was: “To my horror, looking at them resulted not in a warm, maternal feeling, but an immediate wallop of nausea and terror as I realized that currently residing inside my abdomen were two entire, separate-from-me human beings, for whom I was and would be completely responsible. They felt like strangers.”
I COMPLETELY felt this way at the birth of my son. I heard all about that miraculous moment when you see your first child and the overwhelming love. DIDN’T HAPPEN. Not immediately. This was hard to admit, but true. I felt shock and detachment. Some initial trouble breast feeding in the first days didn’t help. But it did quickly change. I adored him and still do over 4 years later.
What I’m trying to say is everyone has these moments. Having them and worrying about their meaning only shows that you will be an amazing mother.
Hoping everyone’s great advice is helpful, and you will stay so brave and keep us updated. Sending lots of good thoughts your way. (sorry so long a comment!)
Once I got over my embarrassing giddiness about the fact that you finally posted (I must be a Floatsam junkie, because I really missed you), I was able to concentrate on the “meat” of your post. I’m impressed and proud of you for being so honest, it’s hard to admit that you’re freaked out by something that you wanted for so, so long.
Aside from the raging pregnancy hormones, there are 1,000 other things going on in Alexa-land (within your head, that is) so it’s quite a lot for even your giant brain to process. Talk to your doctors, depend on your husband, lean on your friends, take drugs. Do whatever it takes to make yourself feel better.
We tried to conceive our daughter for over 18 months. I was overcome with joy once she arrived. However, I distinctly remember many, many times standing over her crib in the middle of the night thinking, “What in God’s name have I done?” (Among many other things which all sung the same refrain of my lack of self-worth and/or ability to be a decent mother.) Many weeks, I called her pediatrician more than once a day. I’m sure they hated me, but I didn’t care. I am sad to tell you, but the hormone crash AFTER delivery is a terrible, evil, dark thing. Please be prepared for it, and know that it is usually temporary (although it is what introduced me to the magic of Zoloft).
With this recent (and hard-won) pregnancy, I am in the grip of fear 99.99999% of the time. If I am not actively feeling the baby move, I am completely and irrationally convinced that he’s dead. Same song as yours, different verse. Unfortunately, I’m also in the process of tapering off my Zoloft since both my perinatologist and OB recommended I stop by the beginning of the 3rd trimester (but can resume at delivery). Surely the departure of it from my bloodstream isn’t going to help the ever-present freak attacks about my baby’s probability of up and dying on me each and every day. Wish me luck.
I’m so glad you posted, although I’m sorry that you’ve had such a rough week. For whatever it’s worth, I’m sending a million good vibes and hugs and all that other stuff that we IF blog friends send to one another.
I am sorry you are so worried/stressed/ect. I hope you find some solace…ok off to google baby goat
I’ll second (or millionth) the idea that if you weren’t scared and freaked out and overwhelmed, then it would be time to worry. You’re embarking on something you’ve never done, something known to be incredibly difficult (as well as indescribably wonderful), and you’re basically under attack from chemicals you can’t control.
For your own good, and for the good of those Science Babies, please don’t let Infertile’s Guilt keep you from asking for help, either from the interwebs or from your medical team.
Alexa, I can say this with relative objectivity, away from the pregnancy madness:
Dude, of COURSE you’re freaking out. Being pre-disposed to anxiety (as I am) and, I don’t know, having TWO WHOLE HUMAN BEINGS to depend ENTIRELY ON YOU in a few short months is enough to send *any normal person* into wild fits of panic, nausea and hysteria. Bliss? Who are these blissful women?
I agree that it’s bullshit that you should have to feel such pressure to uphold the blissful facade in light of infertility. That is a pile of ancient crust on a rotting bit of Tupperware, that’s what that is.
Much love to you.
(Also, random PS? Jen’s comment made me laugh out loud, for after dating my now-husband five years and being hopelessly head-over-heels in love for all of those years, the second, and I MEAN THE VERY SECOND, we got engaged, I freaked out. I almost called off the wedding. I laid in bed at night sweating, thinking that I knew, I JUST KNEW, that I was not supposed to marry this man. It was all wrong! I hardly knew him! HE WAS A STRANGER TO ME. I HATE HIM.
Of course, I soldiered on with the support of my friends and family who kindly told me that while they understood that yes, I was freaking out, I was also being a little nuts. And the day I married him, it was all over. It was perfect. The world did not end, it got better, and five years after THAT, it’s even better than it was then.)
I was a fireball of anxiety the whole time. People would say things to me like “Aren’t you just OVER THE MOON?” or “Don’t you just LOVE being pregnant??” I alternated between lying and and giving a somewhat tempered version of the truth. Just remember that whatever thoughts you may be having have no effect whatsoever on the outcome of the babies, so, even though it sucks, you can be anxious and sobbing and they are still in their isolate little warm bag of your fluid, growing. You will fall in love with them when you meet them. Having “What if?” or “What the f-?” thoughts is, as far as I’m concerned, completely rational.
You need to talk to your doctors. Maybe your OB and your psychiatrist both. Because what’s going on here doesn’t sound to me like any reflection on your ability to be a great mother to the science babies, but it *does* sound like you need help. Go get it. Report back.
You are loved and were very much missed on the Internet.
Just remember, what’s happening in this minute is only happening in THIS minute. The worst part of depression and/or anxiety is the fucked-up thing it does to one’s sense of the future. When you’re feeling happy, you don’t think “wow! I’m going to feel happy forever and ever!” Rather, you think, “Gee, I feel really happy right now.” But when you’re feeling miserable, it makes you believe that you’ll feel miserable forever. I know you can’t talk yourself out of that feeling, but you can tell yourself to just focus on the right now.
Also, no googling anything in the middle of the night. That became my husband’s rule for me when I’d woken him up for the fourteenth time saying, “I’m so sorry I took a benzodiazepine and am going to give you a four-headed poodle as an offspring!”
I really just understand what you mean so well. My guess: you’re falling prey to a combination of hormones, environmental stress, the looming fact of motherhood, and a predisposition to anxiety. It’s unspeakably hard, and I am sympathetic–as are a lot of your readers, based on the comments.
You are right: these babies are strangers right now. Eventually, they will not be strangers to you, although, if you’re like me, not immediately. It sounds like a really ridiculous and overly-romanticized notion, but motherhood is like falling in love–it is rarely love at first sight, but it’s there, just waiting for you.
That said, yay for Zoloft, and adjusting your dose if needed. As my husband says, better living through science.
Darlin, I’m so sorry that you’re going through this. I went through exactly the same thing during my last pregnancy, and it wasn’t pretty, so believe me when I say that I know how you feel.
You’re doing great and you’re cooking what’s sure to be two adorable babies, and let me let you in on a little secret: Even when they’re on the outside, you may not always like them all of the time. There’s not a thing wrong with it.
Lots of love.
Panic attacks are awful. I am so thankful I didn’t have one while pregnant. It must be terrible.
I think anyone who is a parent or has one on the way has questioned their ability to take care of a baby. I know I have. My little sweet pea is 11 months old and I haven’t broken her yet.
You are going to be a great mom. Hang in there. I hope you are feeling better soon.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for having the courage and the words to write this post! Even though I am not pregnant (we’ve been trying almost 2 years, but who’s counting) I struggle with anxiety greatly. It makes me feel better that I am not alone (even though I have no babies in my belly, I have those same fears run through my head about my prospective offspring). Even though I am just a blog reader out in cyberland I have to say that I admire you! I’ll be praying for a little more peace and calm to come your way. And please don’t worry about your mothering abilities, you’ll be wonderful!!!!
Thinking of you! Every feeling eventually turns into another one, I hope you can ride this set out… And your babies will love having a Mum as funny and warm as you.
I’m so sorry you are going through this. I wish I had great words of wisdom. All I can say is that I moved in November with not-quite 4 month old twins, and it is do-able, you do survive. I know that’s the least of the issues you are concerned about right now, but maybe some version of a mantra re: “we will get through this” or “a year from now we’ll look back and laugh” might help? Assvice over. Sending you warm thoughts- also please call your OB/PCP/therapist and see if they have any good suggestions.
Oh all RIGHT. I’ll delurk.
Echoing all the above, I think anyone in her right mind would be apprehensive about being a mother to even ONE for the first time. Remember a while back you said you were going to expect out of yourself only what is reasonable given all life influences (hormones, husband in funk, impending births, etc.)? All you can do is your best. I’m sorry you’re having a tough time, and I hope you feel cheerier soon.
Just because you’ve suffered through infertility doesn’t make you immune to the normal fears of those who haven’t. It is so enormously normal to be feeling the way you are! And you can pretty much count on feeling this way even after they are born. There were many days after my first was born where I asked myself, “what have I done?, why did I do this?”. I know if you suffer from anxiety these fears are heightened and you’ll want to continue on a safe medicinal regimen for that. But don’t think for a moment you aren’t allowed to have these fears! I hope this will pass soon and you’ll be back to yourself again.
Prenatal depression. More common than postpartum depression, less talked about.
GET HELP.
Soo, I popped over to tell that I’m sorry you’re stressed, and that I think you’re going to be an incredible mom, but it looks like I’m a little late to the party.
You rock, Alexa. I hope all of these great people with their great comments are making you really feel your awesomeness.
No words of wisdom to add here, just my hope that you are able to get the help — be it meds, talking or whatever — to get on top of how you’re feeling right now.
Oh, man. There’s almost nothing worse than being in one of those downward hormonal spirals — and during pregnancy they tend (for me, anyway) to be worse, and to be tinged with guilt and shame. What a party!
Anyway, please don’t be afraid to speak to the OB about adjusting the Zoloft upward and figuring out just how much anti-anxiety dope is OK, too. Sometimes it helped me just to know that I had the option of taking a pill, even if I ultimately talked myself out of it.
You are fantastic. I’m so glad you’re back.
J van der V
I didn’t have a fraction of the pressure prior to my first pregnancy that you’ve had. That pressure alone is enough to make one nuts. The whole “supposed to be happy and feeling bliss” thing, now that you’ve achieved what took so awfully long to achieve. That being said, when I was about 28 weeks with our first, I began a series of sobbing episodes (I also deal with anxiety/depression, and have since been diagnosed and treated, but that doesn’t erase everything), beginning with one in my folks’ driveway, where I just sat my fat pregnant butt down and wailed that I wasn’t sure I would even *like* my baby. What if I was terrible at being a mother? What if I was so horribly sorry that I became a parent? I felt no deep attachment to my belly, to the thing wriggling inside. I didn’t swoon at tiny clothing. What was wrong with me?
When he was born, and about 18 hours old, it dawned on me that I was really, truly, beginning to like him. In fact, I was beginning to love him. He was pretty cool. We got on just fine, and I fell head over heels with him over that first few weeks. He is now 12, and along with his siblings (and Dad), the love of my life. Put no further pressure on yourself. Just live it one moment at a time (such a cliche). You’ll do great. You can’t compare how you feel with how others have, or do. You just have to get through *your* experience. And you will, just fine.
I am a mother of IVF twins,also after a baby loss @ 6 months gestation (after 12 yrs infertility and one adoption) This is all great advice and I have been there done that too. It is the hormones and and it is the reality sinking in. I experienced it too.But speak to your OB.
Pain is pain, anxiety is anxiety,panic is panic and any mother especially one pregnant with twins is entitled to go through this regardless of whether your pregnancy is after infertility or not.
We are all human. The truth is you will be busy - as busy as any mum with a newborn so it’s valid, no matter how you got there.
Though it will all be worth it and you will look back 6 -12 months after their birth and wonder what all the fuss was about.
Twice the smiles, twice the hugs,
Twice the troubles, twice the tugs,
Twice the nappies, coos and sighs,
Twice the fun and late night cries.
Two stuffy noses, two first smiles,
Double the joys and double the trials.
Twice the wonder a baby brings,
Twice the feelings that make your heart sing.
You are going to be doubly blessed.
The hormones just make it all worse, but it’s the stress of not knowing that’s almost unbearable. Every one of the milestone tests I’ve ever made it to almost put me over the brink. Sometimes it’s even worse afterwards because you’ve been just trying so desperately to keep yourself together…
I haven’t actually made it far enough along to know if it really does get better eventually, but I can tell you that a good stack of MGM musicals sure does help when it seems like nothing else will.
Hi there Alexa.
I think we were all just so worried that something was physically wrong! If you look at all our reactions you will see that none of us are horrified in the least by your feelings - that we almost come to expect it, all of us of ourselves during this time. As for anxiety and the huge emotional whirlwind, I would be shocked and surprised if all we got was sugar-coated blog entries with you sweeping over the huge life change taking place within you. People - ie. outsiders see pregnancy as such a predominantly physical things, but in fact I have a theory that the 9 months are as necessary for the mother’s (and father’s) emotional growth and adjustment as the physical development of the baby itself.
I find it particularly remarkable that it is the most conscientious and educated, responsible people who put themselves through this gruelling self-analysis and torture and ‘testing’. Many launch into reproducing with wreckless abandon, oblivious to what they are undertaking, ricocheting through life in a series of random muddle-throughs that cause perhaps less anguish but maybe which in many cases reap lesser emotional rewards… For many there is no period of ‘am I up to this?’ or preparation be it emotional, physical, or financial. For all of us, just sitting here and reading blogs and articulating our feelings puts us in a more self-aware camp, but despite our sensitivity giving us increased anxiety I think we will also have heightened joy, higher standards for ourselves. This means we have to learn to cut ourselves some slack and to try in our brighter moments to chalk this down to our gradual emotional progression. I think all happy moments are tempered by moments of reflection and incredulous gratitude which can cast a pall over your spirits. My husband and I are very close and in love with a baby on the way and often joke about the meteor which we expect to wipe us out at any moment just to teach us not to get to used to happiness.
To wrap up I just wanted to say that I too have moments of overwhelming and inexplicable melancholia. Perhaps this is because this gestation period is also about mourning the end of one era as the birth of another approaches! When people assume that this is the most glowing phase of my life, I set them straight with a: ‘actually I feel like my usual self only worse - less attractive, heavy, worse skin, sicker, with head aches and crazy moods and appetites and I am a bit apprehensive about the whole thing, but I am happy to be here and feel lucky to be in this situation regardless of all the details’. I can’t stand to add to the PR machine that is the perfect pregnancy. I also doubt myself in most sectors of life: ‘can I take on a new job / promotion? will I be good enough?’ and this is no different to motherhood - ‘will I love my baby straight away? Will she love me? Will I know what to do?’. I console myself that millions of people plunge into it all across the globe with less thought so I must be ok!
Lots of love from London my dear!
xx
What wonderfully warm and wise comments. I can’t add anything, just wanted to add my voice to the chorus. So sorry you are having such a rough time. Remember you are good, and all will be well. All will be well, all will be well.
My sister - probably the most stable, even-keeled, happy person I have ever met - was terrified of her baby the day she brought him home (so he was out, smiling at her and everything) and occasionally for quite awhile afterwards. Your feeling of anxiety are normal pregnant/new-mother things. You are not a bad mother for having doubts and being nervous, etc. I have many days where i feel detatched from my yet-unborn child and i think that is pretty normal as well.
What I’m saying is, none of these feelings are all that out there, even for people who don’t usually have anxiety issues, etc. You take care of you and it will be okay.
Oh sweetie, please, stop beating yourself up! You are completely normal, as are the periods of freaking out! Every pregnant woman goes thru this-I went thru it twice with both my pregnancies. Hang in there; it will pass to managegable levels. Stay strong, you are doing beautifully!
Hugs!
You are writing the words that so many of have felt. I also think it’s quite normal, especially if you’ve been through infertility. I spent 3 years trying to get pregnant and when I finally did I was in and out of the hospital with anxiety all the time. I was convinced disaster was going to strike. Then, when I was finally far enough long to consider that things might be OK - I freaked. What the hell was I doing? Was I going be a decent mother? What if I had made a terrible mistake? The reality is that when you spend so much time wishing for something and working hard to get it, the reality of the goal eventually slips away. It’s like getting pregnant becomes the goal instead of actually being a mother. It’s a coping mechanism because in order to be a mother, you need to focus on getting pregnant - the physical task of it and all the medical intervention that comes with it becomes so all consuming that your mind simply can’t cope with the end result. It’s normal. It doesn’t mean you are a bad person or that you are going to be a bad mother. It just means that your brain is trying to catch up and remember the original goal of being a mother. It takes a while to process everything and that’s OK.
When you take everything that you’ve been through combined with the wackiness of hormones, it’s amazing you’re still able to type at all. You are doing incredibly well! You are going to get through all of this with the love and support of your husband.
You are doing great — seriously, letting the funk and the terrified and the ugly emotions out, talking about them instead of squashing them into some toxic little hole to fester, is probably the best thing you can do.
And it’s not like these feelings aren’t based on something concrete: it IS terrifying. Confession: on New Year’s day, Dakin and I had a big heart to heart about baby timing, a drum I feel like I have been beating incessently for over a year. But now, he is on board and we were really considering the month to start trying and . . . well, I burst into tears about how scary it was to upend our lives, to shift the focus irrevocably from nancyanddakin to as-yet-unidentified children. And then felt horribly guilty for having doubts and worried that my doubts would cause DK to backtrack and so forth and so on, crazy crazy.
That charming little vignette was all to say, I get it and feel for you and Scott. This too shall pass, really, and you have such a strong foundation together that will help you both weather the anxiety. But listen up kiddo, go a little easy on yourself. Give yourself a pass or three to freak out without beating yourself up about what it might all mean. It just means your a feeling, thinking, hormonal pregnant lady. Now go take a big nice bubble bath and read something deliciously wicked.
Thank you for hitting publish. Even those of us who have not experienced what you are going through, can feel how scared you are through your excellent writing. We’re all thinking of you and hoping you get the help you need to get back that feeling of bliss.
And don’t worry about moving… you’ll have newborns, you won’t need to help! Just sit on the couch and boss your friends around. We’re “Minnesota nice” around here, remember? Plenty of people will step up to help you pack and move stuff. I had some scary upstairs neighbors once and that’s what prompted us to buy a house too. It’s so worth it! Take care.
I’ve read your post four times now from start to finish and I just couldn’t figure out what to put in a comment that might make it better or at least not make it worse. You’ve gotten lots of advice and encouraging words. But I’ll add mine nonetheless. Be kind to yourself. Take care of yourself. Don’t judge yourself while you’re in the thick of this. You’re smart to know something’s wrong, now get help from good people.
Thinking of you and wishing you more and more moments of feeling like yourself again.
I couldn’t help it, I had to delurk.
From what I understand from my friends and family, what you’re experiencing is more the norm than most will admit. I think any major change can trigger this kind of “what in the world have I done” panic, and with what you’ve endured to reach this point, I can’t imagine how anyone would think badly of you for what you’re feeling.
Alexa, honey … you are so loved. And you’re loved with all your flaws and freakouts and depression and anxiety and fear. I’ve never been pregnant, almost certainly never will be, but I suffer from anxiety and depression and panic, and so I have an inkling - if only the slightest inkling - of what you’re going through.
Just keep reminding yourself that what you’re feeling is normal, it’s understood by SO MANY WOMEN, and that it WILL get better. I know that those thoughts won’t change your emotions, but maybe they’ll help you to hang on through them. And never forget that you have a whole community of women - most of whom have never met you - who value every word you publish, no matter how hard, and who are sending prayers and loving thoughts to you every single day.
Many cyber-hugs and much affection headed your way!
I felt similar in my 2nd trimester. I felt physically much better, but mentally I kept feeling like “I am going to suck at this.” Sometimes the baby would move around and feel more like an intruder than my own flesh and blood… that I had been wanting for so long. Maybe part of it is the loss of control over your own body.. or the fear of losing your independent self. In any case, I’m now about 9 weeks away from baby time and I’m feeling more and more connected to my little guy and more excited! Hang in there. BTW, your twins are going to love their mom! As helpless as they may seem now, they will guide you in their care later.
For what it is worth, and this is in no way meant to negate the authentic emotions you are having, pregnancy brings out the anxiety and doubt in all of us. Breathe, lean and trust.
Hormones run rampant in the 2nd trimester, not to mention how much you have been through! Give yourself a little credit for having even the slightest moment of peace. Its really scary to all of the sudden realize how real all of this is and to top it all off, realize that you are now in charge of raising another person, let alone 2.
This too shall pass, you will come to a time where you will do nothing but enjoy the rest of the pregnancy.
You are going to be a great mother, it is by far the biggest instinct women have, I hope you feel better soon!
You feel what you feel, you know? You can’t change it. You suffer from depression, and so therefore, from time to time, you are going to be depressed. It must be so much more scary while pregnant. I am so sorry! *hug* Just be sure you talk to your doctor and get some help, if you can. Also - your dose of zoloft could probably stand to be adjusted since you have put on weight and have increased your blood volume. Just a thought.
Thinking of and praying for you!
Just adding one more voice to the chorus of very wise women who have already responded to your incredibly brave and beautiful post — we care about you, we believe in you, and we’re here for you. It’s often hard to see out from under the mind-induced (or hormone-induced) scary places. Try to take things one breath at a time and treat yourself gently.
For me, the 2nd trimester was the trimester of “We are all going to die”. First and third went beautifully, but I would wake up in the middle of the night during the 2nd, with the full knowledge that I was mortal, everyone was mortal, death was imminent, and the universe was uncaring. My husband would wake to find me in tears, babbling incoherently about the impermanence and pointlessness of all things.
I also did not feel an immediate bond with my son when he was born. It was a gradual and building love.
The only unusual thing about me, is that I never view these so-called “atypical” moments as indicative that there is something fundamentally wrong with me. I wasn’t shocked that I didn’t immediately bond with my son, and I wasn’t shocked at my profound negativity during my 2nd trimester. People are universally polite and gloss over the low points of their lives. I figure I am typical. If i’m not, please don’t enlighten me otherwise.
The only assvice I can give, is that I’ve been reading articles that say people who deal best with depression are those who concentrate on accomplishing only immediate goals. Like when you are running a marathon, you only concentrate on putting your foot down one after the next.
Also, watching the movie “Touching the Void” always makes me feel better for some reason. Perseverance in the face of adversity!! It might freak you out though.
Good luck! You sound perfectly normal to me, at least.
I’m glad to hear that the Science Babies are okay (and kicking!) as the beginning of this post had me a bit worried. Please don’t be afraid to tell the internet what you’re going through — you don’t have to be witty every day, you know. We like to hear from you anyway.
I’m so sorry to hear you are feeling this way. I think we all (women who are or have been pregnant) have felt some version of this, although I would say your level of anxiety sounds excruciating. It will pass, but oh, how I know how difficult it is to keep that in mind when you are in the throes of anxiety and/or depression. I know that feeling of, “this is reality and how I felt before (good) was just delusional…” I would say it is hormones, coupled with or exacerbating what may be a “chemical imbalance,” but I know those are just words right now and don’t help. I was often panicked and regretful while pregnant, and I didn’t have the the pressure of previous fertility problems to make me feel like I had to be grateful. I also wasn’t carrying twins, for god’s sake. In other words, you sound normal to me. I hope that you find yourself on the upswing of this very quickly, and that you be gentle with yourself. No more guilt! I’m thinking of you.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us. And thank you to everyone who commented and admitted they two felt similar when they were pregnant.
What you described is so similar to what I was feeling this summer when I was sixish months pregnant. There were days when I had to leave work because I would start crying and couldn’t stop. Some days when I couldn’t even get out of bed. It was scary because I was never quite sure what set me off. It lasted a few weeks and then subsided and the rest of my pregnancy was fairly even.
Then post partum depression hit three weeks after I had the baby in November. It was much worse. Be prepared for that!
And all those thoughts about what have I done? Me too. I really think we spend so much time chasing the dream that we forget what to do when we actually get there.
All in all though, it has been so worth it. As I sit here with my little boy in my lap watching him make his funny old man faces in his sleep and listening to him fart.
Me too. What they said.
Really, I’ve been meaning to delurk for a couple weeks now and chime in that as far as I’m concerned the “happy pregnancy” thing is a myth. I was pretty miserable, too, and always freaking out about something. I do think working full-time helped, because I thought less about myself and (da-da-dum) The Future when I was focused on a project or a deadline.
It’s pretty draining, the whole thing, but (to spout more cliches) it’s totally worth it. I know you know that, but I’m just saying. It’s really worth it, and it’s really going to be ok. It really is.
Love and hugs from another internet stranger :)
Delurking to say I am glad you posted. I know it’s not about me but gosh I was worried about you and the babies. I’m sorry you are having a difficult time. Just know that you’ve got fans and friends who care about you and wish you well.
Alexa, infertiles are like the goths of the pregnancy world. We are fraught with drama, never completely happy and never able to relax. So please don’t worry about being happily pregnant because that is just stress you don’t need. Be as unhappily pregnant as you need; if it helps, I am terrified that this adoption that I want so badly will actually happen and then HOLY COW I WILL BE A MOMMY AND I AM NOT EVEN REMOTELY QUALIFIED!!! It’s way easier to want than to actually have.
That being said, I am sorry this is such a living hell for you and I wish I could make you feel better. Just let it all out, babe. We love you. *hugs*
I can tell you that I had every one of the thoughts that you’re having during my pregnancy, despite how desperately I wanted my daughter.
“What am I doing? I’ve never held a newborn in my life! How am I qualified to do this??”
However, these thoughts were not coupled with depression, GD, uncertainty about the future, starting grad school and noisy asshole neighbors. The fact that you are still standing is miracle enough. You may feel like the underside of an oil barrel, but you are coping. Your babies will grow up knowing that they were supremely wanted- enough for you to go through hell and back.
Keep fighting the good fight.
Oh Alexa, I’m so sorry you are going through such an awful funk right now. I remember the fear during pregnancy slapping me in the face. I thought getting pregnant was going to be the hard part, but really it was only the beginning of fear. A lot of what you are fearing is “normal”, but like others have said I would definitely bring it up with the doctor. There is no reason you need to solider through such strong feelings of anxiety on your own. I tried to tough it out through some major major major post partum. When I finally said something to the doctors I got scolded for not saying something earlier. We all love you so much and see the amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and caring woman that you are even when you cannot.
Courageous indeed and I’m sorry if I get repetitive because I didn’t take in all the other comments. We’re trying (so far unsuccessfully) to get pregnant. And I (even now…before pregnancy) worry that I won’t be allowed to scream “this sucks!” or wade through feelings of regret or, ultimately, feel human.
It’s refreshing to know that people are human, with human emotions even admist dreams coming true. Nothing is all sunshine and roses in life. Not even the most glorious of days.
I wanted to desperately to get married to the man I am now married too and I feel so guilty on the days I am frustrated with him for not doing the dishes or bringing me flowers that I mutter sometimes, “being single beats this.” And it’s nice to hear just one person say, “yep, sometimes it sure does.”