So, baby number 3, my unexpected treasure, is due 3 weeks today. “I bet you’re excited” everyone says. Am I? I’m actually somewhere in between nothing and miserable. I’m sat in a house surrounded by stuff. Pram, cradle, car seat, bouncy chair. There’s a pink nursery upstairs waiting for an arrival. And what does all that make me feel? Well, pretty much nothing. Is it just that I’m being practical? I’m 40 years old, and I’ve done this twice before haven’t I? And let’s face it, no matter how I feel now there is no getting away from the fact that this was not part of my life plan. Even if I had done a complete 360 and was gushing with excitement, there’s no point in denying that fact.
I’m trying not to overthink this one. Who says I should be giddy with excitement? I know that whatever happens I will love my little girl. She will fit into our home and our family and things will most likely be all kinds of wonderful. But! Yes there’s a but, and I don’t mind admitting it. I came here to be candid didn’t I? But, I had started to enjoy a life where I went places, saw things, travelled with friends, started to regain some of my youth. I’m making good money in my job which enables me to have a reasonably exciting life. And I know my other two children are still relatively young, but they’re old enough not to mind mummy enjoying herself once in a while. God I miss that life already. And I am already in mourning for the months ahead of me that will be taken by this change in circumstances. And yes, I know, this makes me sound like a completely shallow and selfish person, but I’m just saying it as it is. This blog was designed to allow me an outlet for my thoughts so I didn’t allow them to destroy me. I know I am a good person. I just liked the person I was last year, before this.
So, it’s hard for me to work out how I should be feeling about all this stuff around me. There’s a bit of me that’s scared about the effect this baby might have on my mental health. Having suffered with severe post-natal depression after my first daughter, I can’t help but wonder if the detachment that I already feel will carry over past the birth and be the dark shape of things to come. What will be will be I guess. It doesn’t need to be a self-fulfilling prophecy though. I just need to stop looking for a reason – does it matter why I feel what I feel? I feel it, and that is it.