This story is from a friend of mine who has sacrificed tremendously to bring children into this world. I think she is the only one whose gestational diabetes ended up being, in fact, the life long battle of type 1 diabetes. I think of her every time I take one of those tests. Here is her story, one that reminds us that struggling with mental health DOES NOT MAKE YOU A BAD MOM.
I know everyone says that the birth of a child is supposed to be beautiful and special, but [for me] it wasn’t. It was the worst day of my life… I almost died.
I have type 1 diabetes (thanks to my first baby – not gestational, straight up type 1), and that means I have big babies. The second time, I had a team of specialists and I’m sure glad I did because, sure enough, big baby.
Once they broke my water, Jackson came too fast for an epidural. But his shoulders got stuck and the emergency team was called in. I was on oxygen, doctors literally shoved him out, and for weeks after I could still hear myself screaming whenever I closed my eyes. I didn’t sleep for several days and I dreaded any visitors or going back to church because I knew people would ask about his birth and I could not bring myself to talk about it.
A lot had happened, like going hypotensive twice, needing 2 blood transfusions, and having multiple IVs in each arm that just made my experience just awful. Needless to say, I was diagnosed with PTSD and started seeing a therapist. I eventually reached a point where I could talk about it without becoming a hysterical mess.
Some days all of those feelings and fear, and resolution to never put myself through that again, make me feel like I’m a bad mom… but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad mom. It just means I’m human and I’ve had to accept that there is only so much I can handle and to be happy with the blessings I have.
I just try to be happy that I’m still here to experience life with these little people who rely so completely on me.
Some days are better than others. But the bad days don’t mean I’m a bad mom. They mean I’m human. No one is perfect, and I take comfort in remembering that.
