I’ve been deliberating for ages about not only writing this blog post, but publishing it too.
I feel a little abnormal, and that I might end up regretting admitting something so personal, that people may find odd. So this blog basically started as a draft post, just for me to write my feelings down.
It’s only after speaking with a friend today, and explaining to her the reason I write is to stop people feeling alone and having common ground in what they’re going through, that I think there might be others in the situation I’m in.
SO here goes…….
You know when someone shares something on Facebook that basically says “do you ever look at your child and can’t believe you made them?” (or something along those lines).
That’s how I felt with my son, that’s how I still feel about him. I know he’s mine, I’ve never felt any differently, I look at him and there’s no doubt in my mind, no niggle in my messed up brain that thinks otherwise.
My daughter however, I feel differently about.
I’m not sure if it’s the miscarriages, the recurrent losses and heartache I faced each time I lost another baby. Maybe it’s the detachment of feeling, that came from worrying constantly about the pregnancy with my daughter, my fifth pregnancy.
Please don’t misunderstand what I’m saying-I love her with all of my being, my children are my entire world and more, but sometimes, I look at her, and think, “I don’t feel like you’re mine”. “I don’t feel like you belong to me”.
It’s always a fleeting thought, and it’s over in seconds, with my subconscious convincing me that she obviously is mine. That I pushed all 9lb 2.5oz of her chubby body out of my lady parts, that I have been with her every day since the day she was born, nurturing her, teaching her and loving her.
She is mine, she looks like me, acts like me, speaks like me. She needs me, loves me, and when it’s just us, I am her person, her ‘go to’ and comfort.
For some reason, all those rational thoughts go out of the window every now and again, when I look at my beautiful little girl and think “you can’t be mine”.
It’s just another effect left over from the utter trauma and devastation I went through when going through my miscarriages. It’s the denial I felt every time I not only fell pregnant, but when I lost the babies, then when I kept hitting milestone after milestone, seeing scan after scan, with my daughter. I convinced myself she wouldn’t be mine, just like the others, and from that, comes this long term denial I’m now stuck with.
I’m confident I won’t feel like this forever, and am thankful that it doesn’t affect our bond or the extent of my love for her, but its another thing to remind me how let down I was following my miscarriages, from the lack of aftercare and help I received, and that’s something that will be harder to move on from, for a long long time.