Not the birth I imagined, but the birth I needed

Alice’s first pregnancy was a smooth-sailing one, though she felt extremely anxious all the time. Superstition, withdrawing from social events and doom scrolling were her new reality – until thankfully Alice opened up at a doctor’s appointment who noticed what this was: acute perinatal anxiety. Alice shares about the amazing support she got after that. 

Looking back, the first weeks after our positive test were honestly the first and only time during those 9 months that I didn’t feel my anxiety was out of control. The first time I had truly dark thoughts surrounding my pregnancy and baby. I was on the way to work, my 12 week scan was rapidly approaching and I was filled with dread and doom that something was wrong. I’ve always been more prone to worry, but I was on the bus thinking: ‘my baby won’t survive’. Aside from some light spotting at 8 weeks my first trimester had been reassuringly normal and the baby was growing well. All the more reason these thoughts felt so alien and frightening. Unfortunately, the feelings of dread would recur frequently in subsequent months and it would take months before I was diagnosed with perinatal anxiety.

Crushing anxiety
As my pregnancy continued I felt more and more isolated from my peers in antenatal classes, whilst they were posting on social media about gender reveals and sharing surprise videos of them telling the soon to be grandparents I was frantically googling ‘what happens if I have a stillbirth?’ or ‘26 week gestation survival rate’. I began to become increasingly superstitious and altered my behaviour in an attempt to regain some control, like writing my appointments in code on the GoogleCalendar or in pencil just in case they had to be rubbed out at a later date. Worse still, was the tangible excitement our friends and families were feeling, juxtaposed by what by now was my crushing anxiety around my baby and my body.

“I knew this was problematic, but vocalising this fear made me feel ashamed and guilty”

Withdrawn
I didn’t trust that my body knew how to grow and nurture my baby and therefore every appointment filled me with such terror that I often needed to take the whole day off work to recover. I began suffering from insomnia and spent lonely nights trawling through website after website about risks during pregnancy. I grew more and more withdrawn from social circles and Mum meet-ups, as I didn’t feel my experience of pregnancy was shared by anyone. At this point, my anxiety was so severe that I believed I wouldn’t get to take my baby home, so making friends at these events would be too painful. I knew that this was problematic, but vocalising this fear when I was having an otherwise low-risk pregnancy made me feel ashamed and guilty.

Support in motion
One night at 31 weeks we went into hospital for the third time for reduced foetal movements, and whilst all the scans and monitoring were (again) normal, the doctor on duty at the time recognised that what I was suffering from might actually be acute perinatal anxiety. My husband has always made me feel safe and calm and he gave me the courage to explain tearfully that I didn't think I could do another 9 to 10 weeks of feeling like this. From then, the wheels of support were set in motion. My care plan and team were changed, I was referred for monitoring with a psychiatrist for ante- and postnatal care. I had a new obstetrician and midwife who were, quite frankly, incredible. They listened, held my hand when I cried and advocated for me to have an elective C-Section at 39 weeks. I began to feel more hopeful, I had a goal to work towards and could take things day by day. There were still difficult days and sleepless nights but I could hold onto the idea that in ‘X amount’ of days I’d be giving birth. They also helped me cope with the guilt about ‘electing’ to have an abdominal delivery, as I grieved for a vaginal delivery I knew mentally I couldn’t have coped with.

“For the first time I felt the flutterings of excitement, and even joy”

Truly present
On the 12th May 2023, my husband and I quietly left our home in the early morning and caught the bus to the hospital for the final time just the two of us. We signed into the hospital and whilst I was being monitored, he phoned our parents and updated them. The room was calm, peaceful and darkened, almost womb like and we had total privacy. The midwife who came in explained everything she was doing and why and then told us that we were the next slot for surgery. My husband got changed into scrubs and then we were wheeled into theatre. Even though the room was busy and the team was chattering away everyone was reassuring and excited for me and again the anaesthetists explained what was going to happen and when. For the first time in a very long time, I felt the flutterings of excitement and even joy. My husband came to sit next to my head and hold my hand and we played our favourite music. At 12.13 he messaged our family Whatsapp group to say that it was happening and at 12.22 our beautiful son was born – wailing and wriggling as he was placed into my arms. In the video my husband took as we did skin-to-skin, the doctors are asking me how I feel, and I’m crying and saying over and over again: “Relief.”  I’m fairly sure they wanted to check how I was feeling as they completed the surgery but still! I will forever cherish those first precious moments: they are some of the very few minutes in my pregnancy and birth journey that I felt I could be truly present for.

Grateful
I’m now almost 5 months postpartum and only now can I look back and accept that anxiety robbed me of an awful lot of joy in my pregnancy. I am still learning to sit with that uncomfortableness. When I feel low now, I bury my face into my son’s neck and breathe him in and I hold him tight against my chest, tucked into my arms. And I remember that there was a time not so long ago when I thought, I really believed, I wouldn’t get to do this. I look at the pictures of our son’s birth and I am so grateful. So grateful for my husband, my family and friends and the incredible care from the medical team. It was not the birth I imagined for myself, but it was the birth I needed.

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