Sharing My Love

This subject is something I’ve wanted to open up about for some time now. The first time it obviously became an issue for me was during my 2nd pregnancy so let’s take it a step back.

I’ve mentioned previously about how I struggled during my second pregnancy for many reasons. The pregnancy itself wasn’t fun, it wasn’t beautiful and amazing like you’re made to believe. It was tough, rough and I hated every second of it. However, it wasn’t just the physical symptoms that caused me problems, I hit one of my lowest lows during this period of time.

At 24 weeks I told my midwife that I needed the baby out of me, amongst a lot of other disturbing words that came out of my mouth. That was when I was referred to a mental health team, specifically for pregnancy.

One of the many issues that went through my head during this time, was the question of how to share my love. Between my children, plus my husband, I just couldn’t understand how it was humanly possible to have that much love inside of me, let alone know how to share it equally.

I would question it constantly and couldn’t get my brain to relax around the subject. It was confusing as this one part of me wanted the pregnancy to be over, wanted the baby to be in my arms but the other part of me wanted to hold on longer so that I didn’t have to deal with loving someone else.

When Jackson arrived I was allowed a few days of happiness before all those thoughts came rushing back in.

I constantly felt sorry for my first born, I felt like I had no time, no energy and no love. This new baby was zapping everything out of me and this is the honest bit ... I hated being a mother for the first 6 months of Jackson’s life.

When I look back now, I feel guilty because I genuinely did hate every part of being a parent in that moment. I feel like that’s a period of time that I fucked up and I’ll never get that back, but I couldn’t manage my mind and feelings back then. Much like now.

I have moments when all these feelings come rushing back, in many different ways.

Sometimes I look at my eldest, Alfie and feel so deeply sorry for him. He didn’t get my attention like Jackson has done from the start. Jackson stole that, life stole that.

He gets told ‘no’ a lot and Jackson still steals all of the attention the majority of the time. I’m not saying that Alfie gets no attention from me, I’m not a neglectful parent. I know I give him as much attention and praise as I possibly can but sometimes, most of the time, it just doesn’t feel like enough.

I feel like I only have so much love to give. Like a tiny fraction goes to my husband, the majority goes to my kids (more so the youngest because he craves it) and there is none left for myself.

struggling to give equal love to my closest family members means that there is zero room for self love.

I love my family, obviously and don’t want this to come across in the wrong way but sometimes I can sit staring at them all thinking about how lost I’d be without them and then all of a sudden I just want to walk out.

Not because I want out forever, not because I want to run away and have nothing to do with them but because I just need a break.

I want to heal, find myself, do something for me ... just for once. I want to have a moment of selfishness to push forward and discover me!

and no, I don’t want a girls holiday to some 18-30s club resort, thanks but no thanks.

I feel guilty for thinking this way and wanting these things for myself but I am learning, slowly, that I no longer control my thoughts. None of us can really.

I just want to learn how to share my love better. To my family and equally to myself.

The Anxious Mother x