Please note – Names have been changed to protect privacy.
For me, the best part of my pregnancy was on 29th April – when it ended. I had experienced Hyperemesis since week three, leaving me feeling debilitated, exhausted beyond comprehension, isolated, useless, and alone. Jude was delivered by emergency caesarean section, and we stayed in hospital for four nights afterwards. As I had hoped and dreamed, the overwhelming love was instant.
There’s very little time to be present with the thought of “wow, what has my mind and body just been through”. What I wasn’t prepared for was the anxiety that arrived the moment Jude did. I remember asking my husband to sleep on the hospital floor underneath Jude’s cot so he could watch him and make sure he was still breathing. At the time, it didn’t feel unusual; it felt necessary. Now I know that so many new mums lie awake listening for breathing, checking chests rising and falling, holding a responsibility that suddenly feels enormous. But at the time I thought there was something wrong with me — that I was too anxious, too worried, too much. I didn’t know then that this is something many of us experience, and that anxiety and love often arrive together.