Just as I thought I’d put the blues behind me, today I find myself feeling pretty low. Tears are never far away these days and all in all I feel pretty ‘meh’. Week 29, into the final trimester, and the wonderful feelings of the 2nd trimester seem to have faded away. I feel overwhelmed and vulnerable. I’ve got baby names being thrown at me from every angle, criticism, advice, it all just makes my head feel like it is caving in.
Everything is an effort. Getting dressed, an effort. Taking a flight of stairs, an effort. Putting the washing on, effort. Listening to everyone’s opinions of what I should be doing, how I should be doing it, when I should be doing it, effort.
I feel like I want to curl up in a hidden corner, me and my bump, and stay there until the baby arrives. And I’m scared! More scared than I ever was approaching the end with my first two. Scared about when it’s going to happen, scared about how it will happen. Where will I be? What if I’m at work? What if I’m driving? What if I’m alone? What if something goes terribly wrong?
When the baby arrives, it is likely she will have no cot, no pram (all on back order) and worst of all, no name. She’s a nameless nothing and the burden of making sure she is something weighs heavy on my shattered mind.