I have always been open about the fact that I have suffered with mental illness in the form of depression. Since I was a child, it has impacted my life in both good and bad ways, ultimately defining who I have become today. It has helped me be strong, resilient, self-aware, and powerful, but at the same time it makes me vulnerable, volatile, and at times, self destructive. But, for the last few years, I have been able to manage it after a lot of therapy, positive life changes, and yes, medication.
Since I was 16 years old I have been given a wide range of pills to pop- some made me fat, some made me skinny, some made me hyper, some made me sleepy- but most of them did nothing until one day I found the right one for me. Now, for the last three years, I have been on one particular tablet at a medium or high dose, depending on how I am doing. I have no side effects, I am not “out of it” and it doesn’t change who I am, it just helps me stay on a level and process things with rationality rather than raw, unbridled, and sometimes dangerous emotion. Yes, they are also my crutch and I am not ashamed to admit that perhaps half of their affect is probably placebo but I am happy to take them for the rest of my life if it means I continue feeling good.
Then I became pregnant. I never thought I would be able to get pregnant and I was taking the contraceptive pill at the time, so the news came as a total shock as well as a wonderful surprise. Of course I am over the moon and totally delighted about what is happening to me and over night, I have fallen in love with this little human that is growing inside me. There is however a catch. The pill I take to manage my moods is not recommended for use in pregnancy, and due to other complications in the first trimester, I was advised to come of it ASAP.
Whilst of course I would do anything for my child, let us not discard the huge impact that taking away a medical and possibly psychosomatic crutch has on a person. Not only had my life been turned upside down and motherhood thrust upon me, but I also had to stop taking the pills that keep me in check. Couple this with the invasion of truly tempestuous hormones and we have a situation that is incredibly difficult to navigate.
Whilst 4 days out of 7 I feel on top of the world- energetic, happy and excited, the days that I feel down, or sick, or tired hit me 100 times worse than they would before. When I tell people that I feel like shit they either laugh and dismiss it as hormones, or make some comment about “just enjoying this magical time”. The lack of understanding about the impact of hormones on humans is staggering, and just because it occurs naturally as a part of pregnancy doesn’t make it any easier. Couple that with the fact that I am suffering from managing these amplified emotions withouth the medically prescribed solution I rely on, and things get a lot tougher. I shouldn’t have to divulge my issues to anyone that asks, but dismissing someone when they feel down and telling them to “make the most of it” is just down right disrespectful.
But let us go back to this assumption that it being “just hormones” somehow lessens the suffering that a woman goes through. For centuries women have been constantly told to get over issues relating to periods and we have had serious issues like PMT and post natal depression ridiculed and misunderstood at our expense. The assumption seems to be that as hormones are natural, they are somehow less awful, painful, or problematic to deal with and as such, we should just suck it up and get on with it. Just because my tears are caused by my “hormones” doesn’t mean that the pain I feel when I cry is any less than if it was caused by something else.
My (first) doctor also told me that I wouldn’t need my medication any more because being pregnant would make me happy. There is this undue pressure on women to be happy and smiley just because we have managed to procreate. Any comment that we are struggling or finding the time hard results in us being shamed or told that things get a lot harder later on.
Do you know what? I don’t fucking care because right NOW is hard for me. Whilst your first trimester might have been a breeze, mine has not been and I should not be shamed, or have my views dismissed just because I am meant to “enjoy every second”. Pregnancy is hard, dealing with depression is hard, life is hard, poor health is hard, and when you combine all of them together, I will not make any apologies for crying for no reason, getting frustrated, or losing my shit and saying it exactly how it is. Yes, there have been wonderful moments of this pregnancy- finding out, feeling my baby move, seeing it dance on the scan, hearing its heartbeat, and planning for the future, but I have also suffered a lot as well.
Every twinge makes me panic, I palpitate at the thought of waking in a pool of blood, I hate being stuck inside and not being able to run, walk, go for a drink, conduct interviews, or just go for a coffee in the morning, and I hate it when I feel down and I try to differentiate between what is “justified emotion”, what is hormonal, and what is a lack of medication. I hate being told “don’t cry because of the baby”, “don’t be stressed because of the baby”, “don’t be angry because of the baby” ad nauseum- when is someone going to care about the torrent of confusion, terror, excitement and fear that runs through the mothers veins every day, whilst she is expected to put on a smile?
It is not just medical support, good nutrition, and help lifting things that us expectant mothers need- we also need someone to help us take care of our minds. Whilst I know my situation regarding my medication is not the same for everyone, I cannot help but think there may be many more women out there that suffer in silence with a smile on their face, whilst their insecurities and fears eat them alive. We need to take away the shame from having negative moments in pregnancy- yes it is wonderful but let us be mindful of the fact that it is not always so, and if you are a mum already you have probably forgotten the majority of the lows you suffered, whilst some are still living it.
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