I’m putting my kids to sleep while writing this post. My mind is in a bit of turmoil as I am dealing with some very negative emotions.
I had a baby nine months ago, my third and last. During the pregnancy my depression was terrible and affected every moment of my life at that time. I was in a constant war to control my emotions.
I was dealing with a very unplanned pregnancy. Unplanned to the point of the day I found out I was pregnant was the day I was heading to the hospital to begin the proceedings to get a tubal ligation aka tying my tubes.
The Friday before I had given away every single stich of my daughter’s clothing to a client who had given birth to twin girls. The day before I had given away all of my son’s baby clothes and shoes to another client who had been raped and ended up pregnant. She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I was in a great state of mind as I had come to peace with my decision to do the surgery.
My husband was not thrilled but he supported me. The few friends I had shared the decision with were very supportive and my therapist was glad as my depression was very severe at the time and I had given in to using antidepressants to help with my coping. Another baby was not an option as my job was also very uncertain due to my country’s economic situation.
Fast forward a few months, my marriage was at a breaking point. I had no job and our family was struggling financially. I was acting terribly due to withdrawal from my antidepressants as there was no time for easing off the drugs. I was self harming every week, crying everyday. My emotional state was so bad that my sugar and pressure levels were going up at every doctor appointment. I also started spotting, swelling, to the point of having to rush to a jewellers to cut off my wedding band so I did not lose my finger, and everyday I did extrenuous house work just to keep my mind busy but that choice was putting my pregnancy in jeopardy because I was supposed to be on bed rest.
I was a damn mess.
I did not want the baby honestly. I couldn’t see myself dealing with another child having lost my mind in my last two pregnancies – my depression gets severe during pregnancy then I have postpartum depression. But I was working on these feelings because the baby was already in existence.
At the time it came to light that an Aunt in my husband’s family was looking to adopt a baby. Seeing as I worked as a Social Worker and had been formally employed at the agency which handled adoptions, I began assisting in gathering information for then on the process.
The out of the blue my husband asks me if I would consider giving them the baby.
His request left me speechless. He went on to say that his cousin had asked him to ask me but he wasn’t willing to do it. But it was my choice – So what say me?
Sitting at the edge my bed all my mind kept saying was “are you fucking kidding me”.
It never ceases to amaze me how much my husband does not know about depression. He is a kind and good man but utterly hopeless in my struggle. He does not seek information about depression, doesn’t read or listen to anything I have given him in the past. I guess this is why he could not then and even now understand how much that question affected me.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to throw things. I wanted to vomit for the umptenth time that day. I had been struggling and praying everyday to accept the child growing inside me. A child who I could not speak too. I could not touch my stomach or feel her movements without feeling anger. I barely paid attention when we did ultrasounds. I cried every night I could not sleep because of insomnia. I cried everytime I had to take medication to control my vomiting. But I had been working these things out. I couldn’t afford therpy so I had to do it alone. I couldn’t talk to friends and my own husband had removed himself from my healing process a long time before. All I had was God, the tools I had learnt in therapy and my desire to be a good mother and give my baby love by the time she came out. I wanted her to feel love on the inside of me. God knows I struggled but I was doing it.
I wasn’t happy but that baby was mine. Ours!!!!! How could anyone in their right mind see their wife suffer through everyday or her pregnancy, learning to love the baby then casually ask if I would give it away?
The gall of his family to ask also left me disgusted at them all. I could not understand how anyone could think it ok to ask a woman to give up her baby out of the blue.
After a good cussing I told him to go to hell along with his so by so family.
I eventually told a couple of friends after I realised that my husband and his family thought it was ok to ask such a request of me and that I would get no understanding from them for how they hurt me
They were taken aback as well and helped me through my hurt. After I met with the Aunt who made the request I finally exploded on my husband. I became physical and the fight ended with him telling me to leave. I called a friend to go by her. However, after a doctor’s appointment the day after I had to reconsider my decision. My pressure and sugar levels were high enough for a miscarriage and my doctor did not condone my leaving as my friend lived too far away from medical help. I had no choice but to go home. And deal.
So I did. I dealt. I talked my emotions out with my friends. Forgave my husband for his blindness. Made my ammends for my behaviour and moved forward.
We have been invited to a family get together with the side of my husband’s family with whom all of the bachannal happened. Thank God the Aunt has left the country but I am no longer comfortable being around his family.
Other things have occurred also with his side that have caused tears and fights in my marriage.
The sad thing is the persons who have invited us had nothing to do with anything that has happened but I just cannot seem to separate them from the idiotic, hurtful and hateful things said by other family members. I feel like I am under a microscope. I don’t know where I stand or what they think of me. I just don’t want to be around people I also not sure like me or respect who I am
And I do not want my baby around them. I don’t want a picture getting back to that disgusting woman who wanted to take her from me.
It’s easy to forgive sometimes. It’s harder to live with the memory of the hurt and the fear and animosity another’s unthinking actions can leave behind.
Is it bad to say that all I want is an acknowledgement that they were hurtful and disrespectful to me as a human and a woman? Is it wrong to say that my husband disappointed me by laughing along with them as they mocked my reaction and told me I was over reacting?
So I sit in my kids room and ask myself and maybe soon God if I can be around his family and keep my peace?