I admitted something to some counsellors the other day that I've never said out loud before. It was on my list of secret things I'd never say. Locked in a cavern of depression. Filed under scary things I can't believe I thought.
I felt rushed into being pregnant. Which in turn made me worried that our motives weren't pure love. Which in turn filled me with the bitterest of guilt that somehow that meant I didn't want my baby.
I really wanted him. I still really want him. I am inexplicably blessed to have him.
We were rushed though. Drs who basically said "it's now or never". I am not even sure I could have told you I felt rushed at the time. Hindsight it just showing it that way.
Being pregnant will cure your pain. But you may not be able to get pregnant. You will probably fall pregnant but it could be hard. Sub fertility. This surgery will improve your chance of falling pregnant for about 6 months. Etc. Etc.
We weren't going to start trying until the summer. But everything was set to fast forward.
All those question marks + previous miscarriage + fear of loss + illness = difficulty bonding with the baby in the womb.
Gushing, crushing guilt. Eurgh.
Being pregnant wasn't what I imagined. Tenderly caressing my swelling tummy wasn't on the cards. Taking hundreds of photos to document the incredible journey was awkward. Writing my future child love notes was a very thought filled decision. Why did none of this come naturally to me?
I guess my naturalness issues began long before NICU and indeed NICU itself didn't really help the issues I already had.
And right now my darling skittle is sat next to me and all that've just written makes me feel like I've failed him. Big time. Poor boy, if I could be pregnant with you again my sweet son, I would. Even if it killed me, I'd shower you with affection and I'm sure it wouldn't be an effort, it would be a joy. Deep joy, to bond with you early. To love you without fear of loosing you.