As the birth gets closer my anxiety is growing tenfold. I’ll happily admit that the reason I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a mum was because the idea of childbirth terrified me.
None of the options sounded good. Hospitals can be scary, faceless, places and as much as the staff are lovely (the majority I’m sure) it just never appealed to me. Home birth felt just as unappealing. The idea of not being in a medical facility was scary incase I needed help. Water births, or as my brother called them, “the soup of creation”, looked messy and as a non swimmer I wasn’t sure being in water would be calming.
I wish I had those basic worries now!
Before diagnosis I was booked in with my local midwife led unit. I’ve seen the same two midwives throughout and I cannot fault them in any way. Their care, honesty, encouragement and passion for giving mum’s a voice is inspiring. They meant I was looking forward to the birth I had chosen with them. That wasn’t something I ever thought possible for me.
Post diagnosis all control seems to have been taken away from me. My hospital is now a huge entity where I won’t have any idea who I’m seeing until I turn up on the day. It’s three hours away from home and, despite visiting monthly since the beginning of December, I’ve yet to actually meet a single person on the birth unit/team or speak to anyone who has any idea what my options for the birth are.
Everything is baby centric. Obviously I’m grateful for that and I can’t fault the care we’ve had regarding baby so far. They’ve been amazing. The cardiac team I’ve met so far are phenomenal. I trust them already.
I am worried I’m going to lose myself in the process. I am worried I’ll be little more than just the vessel to bring baby into the world and my needs will be pushed to the side. As someone who’s never had an issue being heard and speaking my mind it’s a daunting experience.
Throw covid into the mix and I don’t even know how much I will have to go through alone. Worrying about Steve stuck outside the Hospital, him not knowing what’s going on with me or baby, is only going to add to my stress.
I guess it’s becoming harder to not panic. I’m struggling to come to terms with the fact that the decisions we’re making now are all things that no parent should have to go through. I’m back into the “why us” mindset.
It is not a scenario that accommodates for safeguarding mental health. I am not ok. I will be, because I will have to be for my child and for Steve, but right now, everything is falling apart.
Our HRHS Journey 