I think I’ve been avoiding writing this blog. For many reasons, actually. Somehow your first pregnancy drags for what seems like an eternity, yet your second pregnancy is apparently over before you’ve had time to fart. That is until you hit being overdue.
I’m sitting here 160 weeks pregnant and I’m like ‘HOLD UP! What the f-ck just happened?’
I had all of these great plans. My intentions for my blogs were genuine. I had planned to keep you all up to date with my pregnancy via both YouTube and The Young Mummy (TYM) website, but it seemed moving house (interstate!) at roughly 20 weeks pregnant was going to make all of that difficult.
It wasn’t just the move itself… it was the unpacking that I find myself STILL doing. It was the work commitments I had in Melbourne once I returned. It was the massive fundraiser that I organised. It was the total and utter lack of energy and drive I found myself to once I finally did get home.
Yes, I was home. But boy it was hard work.
It was the big fat hole of anxiety I found myself in when I finally began my maternity leave from TYM. I allowed myself the whole of December/January off to just be ‘mum’, expecting bub to arrive around Christmas (pfft, good one f-ck wit) and then enjoy some seriously interrupted weeks at home with just my family.
It’s been an eventful pregnancy, to say the least. I think everyone’s pregnancy runs their own race and has their own story to tell, so I’m certainly not sitting here crying poor and asking for sympathy. I just find being pregnant difficult. But very different to my first.
It’s been shitty at times, yes, but I’ve enjoyed the experience much more. I was happy for it to drag out. I’m now sitting here having being told by my obstetrician that “baby is all ready to go” but yet I’ve been told that since 36 weeks so yesterday I quite literally went ‘shhh…! Zip it!’ to the midwife who started to begin telling me ‘it will be here sooo….’. I feel like I’ve been jinxed by every doctor and midwife so far so I didn’t allow her to finish.
I posted on my Instagram the other week about how it makes me sad to think my second pregnancy is nearly over. Like, how? When? Where did the time go! At that stage, I wasn’t quite ready for it to be over. To be honest, mentally, I’m probably still not. Physically I totally am. I suffered some really bad anxiety and subsequent postnatal depression when Bobby hit about eight months old.
And it wasn’t until recently – upon reading other women’s descriptions of their own anxiety/PND experiences – that I’ve realised how bad I actually was. It’s such a hazy period for me to look back at now… one that has scarred me so deeply but one that I’ve been able to – somewhat – shut off out of my mind. Until recently, that is.
Every fear surrounding another baby brings back those heart palpitations. The leg tingles. The ‘I’m going to spew any second’ feeling that you simply can’t control. The ‘fight or flight’ mode – where 99 per cent of the time – I’d go into flight. Take off. Escape the situation. What I have learnt throughout this is that A LOT of my anxiety stems from my hormone imbalance. I have PCOS and a thyroid condition… so combine those with being pregnant and you have a nice cocktail of ‘I’m a little bit f-cked up at the moment.’