Mum….where’s the baby?
When miss Amarlie was born I was prepared to have PND, I was prepared to suffer like I had done with the 3 older girls and I was terrified but I was determined to enjoy this Bub and mental health plans were put into place.
I was older and more experienced and I knew that I couldn’t wait until she was born before getting professional help so I contacted CAHMS and started seeing them as soon as I found out I was pregnant.
Pregnancy was just one big shituation!
I couldn’t stop throwing up the entire time, I was constantly in pain from not being able to shit, I had haemorrhoids so big that they went from looking like cocky tongues to resembling giant sea snails fighting their way out of a broken fucking shell….
I waddled around not because I was huge, I wasn’t at all, but because my flaps were so swollen they looked like an empty hotdog roll that I’d dropped in black cat hair and then just shoved back in the packet.
I was moody and emotional and constantly dreamt of hurting people and by people I mean my partner and by hurting I mean scalping him….not even kidding, I used to wake up and touch his head hoping to feel hair and not scalp and 🧠
When it was time to have her she was my first cesarean Bub and the birth was beautiful.
The pregnancy had the exact same unpleasantries as the first 3, my breath stunk just as bad, I could always taste blood and my skin was dripping in oil. I had the same acne and Bacne and the hair that started to grow in places where the sun don’t shine was long enough to French braid but the actual delivery was in stark contrast to the girls.
I remember everything unlike the others and we had skin on skin straight away and besides needing to stay in for 5 days and have the mental health team come and visit due to bipolar disorder, it was unlike my first 3 births.
I was ready fo for her to enter our lives.
My milk came in and I fed her and without any guilt I stopped when it all became too much for me and the milky peaks and for the first time I didn’t get PND and everything seemed so easy.
It was all good in the womanhood..
A little too easy…
I soon discovered that A was allergic to sleep, she thought was too good for that kind of fucking nonsense! All Of the other girls were good sleepers and had a pretty good routine down pat early on and I had so much help with friends and family but with A it was just me and this small human that was hell bent on destroying all those who rocked her.. ( except nanny!)
Sleep deprivation really is a form of torture and I felt so absent minded that I started doing stupid shit like leaving my keys in the freezer and my memory got even worse and I started forgetting a lot….One morning after sitting for half hour trying to remember I had to call my mum and ask her wtf The baby’s name was, she was 10 weeks old!
I didn’t really realise how bad I had gotten until A FINALLY started having afternoon naps and not once but on multiple occasions I picked the girls up from school to them asking me ‘who has Amarlie?
Holy gaping fuck hole, I forgot the fucking baby!!!!
(The baby was fine Debra, we Lived 4 doors away from the school and could see my house from the school gate and she is now 5 years old and still here with us alive and well. We good sis!)