I’ve decided to dedicate this blog to sharing my struggles, starting from the moment I found out I was pregnant, and continuing through many months after giving birth to my daughter. This is a deeply personal journey, and I want to be open about what I’ve faced. Trigger Warning: This post contains discussions about suicidal thoughts.
I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon, so I decided to go to the beach—a place that always brought me peace. For someone who has battled anxiety for much of their life, the beach has always been a refuge, a space where my anxious thoughts seemed to melt away with the sound of the waves. That day was no different; I had a wonderful time soaking in the sun and the calmness.
Later, I went home to see my partner, bringing back McDonald’s for dinner. I ordered a Spicy McCrispy with extra pickles, something I would never typically get. My partner noticed right away and joked that I might be pregnant. His comment unsettled me, so I took a test just to be sure. And then, my world shifted: I was pregnant.
I didn’t feel joy or excitement. Instead, I felt shock and deep sadness. I never wanted children, and this unexpected news sent my mind spiraling. I told my partner, and what followed was something I’ll never forget. His reaction was probably the worst I could have imagined. He sat on the floor, crying, saying he was going to blow his brains out. He said other hurtful things too, but that’s the part that replays in my mind the most. After that, he left—just took off for the night—leaving me alone. I was scared, ashamed, and utterly isolated in that moment.
It’s hard to put into words how I felt, standing there alone in my home, pregnant with a child I never planned for, feeling abandoned and shamed for something that was already overwhelming.
This is the start of my story, and there’s so much more to tell. But for now, I’ll leave it here. Next time, I’ll talk more about how those early days unfolded and the emotional weight that followed.
The Fourth Trimester 