Postpartum: My Hidden Story

I’m going to remain anonymous, only because this is something I’m still learning to come to terms with. Even though I know so many parents go through this, when it’s you, it feels harder to show yourself compassion.

But here’s the thing: postpartum is real. And it can happen when you least expect it.

I’ve never been an overly emotional person. Pretty level-headed is how most people would describe me. I’ve always known what I wanted in life, and I always had a plan. One of those plans was to have a baby. I thought it would be easy: just stop the pill, have lots of sex, and eventually a baby would appear. But that wasn’t my story. A year went by, then another. Five years later, I had quietly resigned myself to being a dog mum.

And then it happened, the moment I finally came to terms with my childless fate, I got pregnant. My pregnancy went smoothly, and we were so ready to finally start a family.

And then… nothing.

I felt nothing.

I went through the motions. I smiled when people were around. I said all the right things. But inside, something had shifted. When I looked at my baby, I didn’t feel the love everyone promised I would. Instead, it just felt like an endless cycle of sleepless nights and dirty nappies that I began to resent.

I told no one. Not even my husband. The guilt ate away at me until one day I just screamed. I had never screamed like that before: it was raw, primal. Nobody heard except my baby, who didn’t cry, but stared at me as if he didn’t know who I was. And that was the moment I knew I needed help.

Things did get better. Talking about it helped. I realised my body and mind were simply depleted, and I had nothing left to give. Slowly, the love came. And when it came, it came in full force. My son is now four, and I tell him I love him every single day, maybe too much, as though I’m trying to make up for those first few fragile weeks.

I still wrestle with guilt, but I’m learning to let it go. And if there’s one thing I want you to take from my story, it’s this: you are not broken, you are not failing, and you are not alone.

• Anonymous