I wasn't allowed to tell anyone I was pregnant. Especially noone connected to him. It was a dirty secret, a shameful mistake. Something to hide. He was so concerned about what people would think - I mentioned it to 3 people at different stages of that period and I still hear about how disloyal that was to this day. When all the other mummies were so happy. That has been one of the hardest things. To not be able to enjoy this time - enjoy my pregnancy, but to be made to feel like it is something to be ashamed of. The constant sniping, negative comments. Even in front of my family and friends. My parents were horrified the day my brother said something about vacuuming and my partner jumped in that he wished the baby could be vacuumed out.
But I did not have enough self confidence to say that I had had enough. I believed his rubbish. That I should be ashamed. I believed I had done the wrong thing. That none would love this baby. That my journey alone would be hell. So I started to slip into depression. A dark and desperate depression where on many, many lonely nights, I wanted to end my life. I honestly wanted it to be over.
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