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journal,  pregnancy

18 Weeks Pregnant – Feeling low

Pregnancy is not always a walk in the park, it is different for everyone and no two experiences are the same. Most people expect pregnancy to be a time of great anticipation, excitement and happiness, but for some women that’s not how it goes. Below is a journal entry for one of our brave mummas who was willing to share how she felt during her second trimester.

Remember there is alot of antenatal support here in NZ for pregnant woman, if you are feeling low, you do not have to tackle it alone. If you or someone you know are experiencing these types of feelings and they last for more than a few days, please talk to your doctor or midwife.

Week: 18

Baby is the size of a: Kumara

I thought I’d be some kind of earthy pregnant goddess, wearing a long flowing white maxi-dress and walking bare foot along the beach with a hand draped lovingly over my bump. Instead I’m a giant, bottom heavy lump, with what feels like a constant hangover, barely able to walk from this fucking sciatica, unable to eat hardly anything for fear it will kill the baby! And anything I do eat gives me heart burn so bad I never want to eat again. And I am supposed to be happy!

Everyone else seems so happy. They seem so together and capable, and I just feel so young and like I’m doing everything wrong.

I feel like everyone assumes our baby is whoopsie because I’m only 25. Even my crazy ass midwife asked if I “Lived in a flat with some other guys.” (Like, what the actual fuck?? I’m surprised she didn’t ask if it was a crack baby!) I just told her, “No, I own my own home with my partner,” and that really seemed to confuse her.

I am so tired I could cry. In fact, I am crying. I cry every fucking day. Then I feel like an ungrateful bitch because some people have to go through IVF or can’t get pregnant at all.

I mentioned the tiredness at work yesterday. I don’t know, I think I was trying to just get some solidarity or something. Sonia literally laughed at me and said, “Oh my god! Being pregnant is not that hard. Stop complaining!” I wanted to ask her how many times she had been pregnant (none) but I didn’t because she may have had a miscarriage for all I know and I didn’t want to upset her. But then I got mad because she didn’t consider my feelings when she said what she said. And this is what my brain does all day long and it is so exhausting. Carol (who’s had five children) just rolled her eyes and said she was working retail and was on her feet all through her pregnancies. Why do women seem to have no compassion for how hard this can be? Why do we judge each other instead of supporting each other? There’s a “I had to tough it out so why can’t you” kind of belief which is so damaging. I can’t wait to leave work on maternity leave.

I don’t even fit in at yoga.

I started pregnancy yoga last week in town and just getting there was hard. Why is everything so hard for me and not other people? We all went around the circle and shared how we are feeling. I told them all about the physical symptoms. They suggested heaps of really helpful things that my midwife really should have been suggesting to me – When I told her my lower back was so sore that the pain was shooting down my legs and that I could barely walk, she just told me, ‘if you get through this pregnancy with a bit of back pain that’s pretty good!’. Now I find out that other women get referred for hydrotherapy and acupuncture. My midwife barely knows my name. Why am I so unimportant? As we went around the circle I so desperately wanted to confess. I wanted to tell them that the love I’d thought I’d have for this little person growing inside me has not eventuated. In its place is deep, dark and dirty feeling of resentment.

My body has been invaded and it is no longer my own.

I’m kind of glad I never said it out loud.

Writing it here is bad enough.


If after reading this you’d be happy to share your own experience of pregnancy, please email me at [email protected] to send you one of the pages (or you can send a photo of your own pregnancy journal)