Gripping or Holding? My Journey With Perinatal Mental Health

Gripping or Holding? My Journey With Perinatal Mental Health

My first full experience with pregnancy was physically a dream come true.

I was lucky enough to not have any of those terrible first trimester symptoms (I know—sorry for bragging). I gained very little weight, had no pain until she was nearly done cooking, and worked two jobs up until the day before I gave birth. It was everything I had hoped for in a pregnancy.

And yet, mentally, I was drowning in an anxiety I had never experienced before.

Like many other women, I had experienced a miscarriage a few years prior to getting pregnant with my daughter, Amelia. It was devastating. So, when I found out I was pregnant again, you would expect me to feel happy and grateful.

But instead, I broke down sobbing, shaking with fear. I was terrified something would happen and I would lose her. And even now, almost four years later, that feeling still finds its way back to me sometimes.

Everyone around me focused on the joy of this sweet rainbow baby, not knowing I was constantly preparing for the worst. With every milestone, I held my breath, bracing for those words:

“I’m sorry… there’s no heartbeat.”

I told myself:
If I can just get to 12 weeks, I’ll stop worrying.
If I can get to the anatomy scan, I’ll stop worrying.
If I can get to viability, I’ll finally breathe.

But each milestone came and went… and the fear never did.

On the day of my induction, I held my breath until I heard her cry.
And even after she was here, my postpartum experience was filled with anxiety, bracing, and fear.

I didn’t expect it to be this way. I lost so much time with my sweet baby girl because I was preparing for the worst instead of embracing the beauty right in front of me.

And the hardest part? So many moms experience this… and feel completely alone in it.

Today, I’m pregnant with our last baby girl.

I’m blessed to have made it to 34 weeks, and she is as healthy (and canaille!) as can be.
This pregnancy has been healing for me.

I’m surrounded by gratitude, support, and love — especially from my husband. I don’t wake up every day checking for blood or obsessively trying to find her heartbeat with an at-home doppler. I’m slowly healing what loss took from me the first time around.

I’ve learned that bracing for the worst doesn’t protect me.
It only steals from me.
I’ve learned that control is an illusion, and that gripping tightly doesn’t change the outcome, it just guarantees more suffering along the way.
And as this chapter comes to a close, I don’t want to carry regret in something so sacred as pregnancy and motherhood.

I won’t let fear win.
And if you’re in this season too… I hope you don’t, either.