I asked myself, do I even want this child?

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I tried to get pregnant for six years. Even in my first marriage, I was diagnosed with “infertility” and “bilateral obstruction of the fallopian tubes.” I had problems with ovulation, but I was hoping for a miracle. I really wanted a child - without him I felt incomplete and did not understand why I needed all this.

I couldn’t conceive with my second husband either, so I was very worried and eventually turned to a psychotherapist. He helped me understand that I am valuable in myself, that it does not matter whether I have children or not, and that through a child I wanted to give myself what I did not receive in childhood.

The fact is that I was an unwanted child . Due to problems with her cycle, my mother realized too late that she was pregnant with me. She was denied an abortion. She never hid this from me. Almost immediately after giving birth, my mother dumped me on my father and my 11-year-old sister, and when I turned 10, she left the family. We stayed with our father. As an adult, I more or less established a relationship with my mother, but she added fuel to the fire, saying that she didn’t understand why my sister and I (she couldn’t get pregnant on her own, and two IVF attempts were unsuccessful) were so “defective,” because we She never had problems conceiving, and between us she had several abortions. In general, after therapy I felt much better.

I was already 28 years old. Infertility treatment did not bring results, so the doctors eventually suggested IVF to my husband and me. But among my relatives there were cancer patients, and I was afraid that this procedure could cause cancer in me too. Therefore, I was more inclined towards adoption, especially since my husband did not object. Around the same time, problems began in my husband and I’s business, so we decided to put this issue aside for now.

I was terribly tired then, so I took a vacation and went to Egypt with my sister. At that moment I was already pregnant. If I had known, I would have been more careful and not scuba dived. Returning home, I celebrated my 29th birthday with a heavily pregnant friend. She also joked: if you drink from my glass, you will “get infected” with pregnancy. Once a month I did tests just in case. And when a few days later I took another one, it turned out to be positive. I was shocked, but it was a pleasant shock. But to be sure, I donated blood for hCG (a hormone that is produced already on the sixth to eighth day after fertilization of the egg, one of the most important indicators of pregnancy. - Note “Cold”) .

Only after receiving the results did I go to register with the antenatal clinic. I say I'm pregnant. And the gynecologist responded:

- Can't be! Given your history, this is most likely an ectopic pregnancy.

- Yes, I feel good. Are you making a diagnosis without even examining me?

She gave me an ultrasound and said that nothing was visible, so she said, “come back in a couple of days, we’ll clean it up.” I suggested taking the hCG test again to see the dynamics: if there is an increase, then everything is fine. And she just waved her hand: they say, there’s no need, everything is clear with you. As a result, I turned to a paid clinic. There I had a normal ultrasound. The deadline turned out to be five weeks.

In the seventh week, I started having slight pain in my lower abdomen, I got scared and ran to the same consultation as the first time. And the doctor told me: “Well, here you go. I told you. You’re having a miscarriage.” I was taken by ambulance to the hospital. They said that everything was fine, my gynecologist had a brain miscarriage. But just in case, they left it for observation. The gynecologist at the consultation refused to register me before the eighth or ninth week, because suddenly I would have a miscarriage, and then she would have to bother with the papers.

In general, all this hassle, hormonal surge, as well as financial problems, fear of being left without money and a crisis in the relationship with my husband led to the fact that the joy that I finally got pregnant was replaced by doubts, and I wondered if I wanted to Am I even this child? I felt terribly guilty about this.

again I turned to a psychotherapist , and she said: “What’s the problem? If you don't want a child, you can have an abortion. Time permits." I understand why women have abortions, and I do not condemn them, but for me personally, abortion is unacceptable. So I just found another specialist who helped me understand that I don’t have to burn with mad love for my child. But I hoped that after giving birth I would be covered in oxytocin and love would appear.

I got a restless boy: he practically did not sleep and did not let me sleep, he constantly hung on his chest, cried, and I still could not understand what he wanted. Because of the excess milk, I developed lactostasis and my breasts hurt a lot. I again wondered why I gave birth to a child, and again I reproached myself for this, because he was not to blame for anything. I was touched by my son only when he was sleeping.

I didn’t feel like a good mother, because good children are calm. If I had known that motherhood would not be as rosy as they say, I would at least have prepared myself mentally. And so I was not ready. Fortunately, my husband was (and still is) a very involved parent and fussed with his son no less than me. I told him about my feelings, he reacted calmly: “It happens! Be glad that you treat your child much better than your mother treated you as a child.”

Friends often said that they could not live without their children, they constantly think about them and miss them when they are away for a short time. I could not and cannot understand them; this has never happened to me. When my son turned three, I felt terribly exhausted. My friends helped me get out of depression and paid for a psychotherapist for six months at once. After therapy, I began to leave the child with my husband more often and go on vacation alone to regain my strength. Some friends were surprised how I could leave the child so calmly. And now I can easily spend my vacation without my son.

After giving birth to a child, I pressed the gas pedal all the way and quickly wasted all my strength. I should have taken better care of myself. I realized that this couldn’t go on any longer. I literally forced myself to rest, reduced my workload if I realized that I didn’t have the strength. She eventually divorced her husband. But I was lucky: even after the divorce, I now receive from my ex-husband more involvement in fatherhood than many women in marriage.

In general, society puts a lot of pressure on mothers. When it comes to raising a child, it is correct to talk not about motherhood, but about parenthood. Because two people participated in the conception of a child, which means that responsibility should be distributed equally.

Now I do not consider motherhood to be the destiny of every woman. My son is now in his ninth year. He is much better than I once was, although, of course, there will still be something to tell the therapist about. He may do things that I was not allowed to do, such as express himself or disagree with me. I'm interested in watching him grow and develop.

Having a child exposed my pain points. I had to work hard on myself: learn to rest, be more gentle with myself and accept myself for who I am, with all my shortcomings, which is very difficult with my perfectionism. Would I give birth again? Yes. But now I would be ready for this.

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I asked myself, do I even want this child?

The woman was diagnosed with infertility, but many years later she unexpectedly became pregnant. Her expectations did not match reality