Lately my husband and I have been talking about starting a family.
While half of me would be delighted to have a tiny version of him, the other half of me is terrified we’ll end up with a tiny version of me.
Wait, hold up, I should explain: I don’t hate myself (at least not everyday). I have some pretty epic depression going on, as well as some mild ADHD and social anxiety. I mean, it’s under control and all -most of the time- but it’s been with me for years and I’m very aware that it’s hereditary.
So what does this mean for my yet-to-be conceived foetus?
Will my hypothetical small human come out crying uncontrollably? Oh wait, that’s what babies do. Will it weep for hours on end, not being able to tell anyone what’s wrong? Oh, wait. Ok well will it be unable to get itself out of bed, feeling totally out of control of its own life? Oh.
So you see my problem – for the first year or two of my baby’s life I’m going to be totally confused as to whether it has inherited my messed up brain (and is therefore royally screwed), or if it’s just being a baby. Wait, am I a baby? Don’t answer that.
I know, I’m getting ahead of myself – getting all anxious about something that hasn’t even been conceived yet. But maybe that’s just it – my body might already know this and is probably building up walls in my uterus as we speak.
Click through to see some of the most influential Australians who speak up about their mental health. (Post continues after gallery.)