I might have told you several times until now about my depression after almost a year after my daughter was born, as you might know it was not related to the fact that my life has changed, but rather to the fact that she was a very crying baby. Hearing you child crying all the time, going though different medical test (to see why she was crying all the time) was not easy. Thankfully that time has passed.
Now with my second pregnancy I was happy almost all of the time. I had too much love and happiness to spread around. Yet, as my time to go into labor is approaching I started to feel anxious. The more I move forward the more something is pushing me backwards into anxiety and fear, and the worst part of it is that nobody understands it.
I had a little fight with my husband today. I know he is scared just to think that I might go back where I once was, but telling me ‘now you are more prepared’ it doesn’t help, nor it helps telling me ‘now it’s easier because you’ll have enough maternity leave’. I know I’m more prepared, I know it easier for me having a chance to rest whenever the baby sleeps, but I also am aware that I have another child I have to deal with – and no matter how much I try to prepare my daughter I can see and feel the pain and fear she’s passing through these times. I’m not saying feeling the way I feel is the right way, but I can’t pretend that nothing will change and that everything will be easy this time.
I know and I’m aware I have a happy life outside of anxiety and that I am incredibly fortunate to have everything I have: healthy, happy supportive family, a good job and financial stability, our personal home, professional education good friends, and other opportunities. But despite all of this, the anxiety refuses to go away, and with time it gets bigger. It scare me only to think that I might go back again there, because NOW I don’t have that luxury anymore since my daughter is big enough to understand when something is wrong and I want nothing more than to see her smiley and happy. It scares me to death and nobody understands me.
I try not to think about it but as the time of delivery approaches the thoughts run in my head like fast volcano that burns everything on its way. I try to engage myself with lots of things, I try to do everything on my own no matter how heavy I’ve become just to keep myself busy, but still in everything I do I see my thoughts like I’m looking at a mirror. I am a happy person and this feeling makes me depressed even more but sometimes I can’t help it.
Of course I’m aware this is a passing stage and thankfully I don’t have anxiety disorders, but overthinking at this stage is exhausting enough. My thought have become my worries and my worries my anxiety. I know my husband doesn’t understand me, but somewhere out there I know there’s a pregnant mother who feels the same and I just want to tell “You’re not alone”, and by telling her she’s not alone I need to know also that I’M NOT ALONE too.