The next part of this journey was the most difficult so far—telling my partner that I was going to keep the baby. It’s strange how our minds sometimes shield us from painful memories because I can’t remember much about the conversation. What I do remember is the feeling. He was upset—very upset. That moment was the beginning of what I can only describe as a nightmare.
Even though the details are fuzzy, some things have stayed with me, especially the cruel words he spoke. He told me he would resent me and the baby, and that I had ruined his life. Instead of feeling supported, I was shamed for my decision. The guilt and the sorrow I already felt were only made worse by his reaction. This was the moment my depression truly began. And here I am, still living in the shadow of it today.
I desperately wanted to feel happiness, to be uplifted in this life-changing moment. But instead, I was met with judgment and rejection.
After breaking the news to him, I told a few close friends. Almost all of them agreed with him, echoing that I wasn’t making the right choice by becoming a mom. Their lack of support hit me hard, but it also sparked something inside me—a desire to prove them all wrong. I clung to the hope that I could show them I was stronger than they believed, that I could handle this.
But seven months postpartum, I began to feel like maybe they were right. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. I don’t feel like a good mom. In fact, I feel like I’ve failed. But that’s a story for another time.
For now, I just want to share this part of my journey. A journey full of hurt, shame, and unanswered hopes. But also one where I’m trying to find my way, despite everything.
The Fourth Trimester 