4 Walls, Wash Basin, Prison Bed

This morning I decided that coming back here was on the cards..I’m infuriated, angry and disappointed to start. I can’t even think about trying to write down all that’s happened and been said for me to get to this point. I guess what I’m saying is to you this mightn’t make any sense of this but oh well heres my thoughts unedited.

Maybe I dont understand but every minute our baby moves inside me surely counts for something. I’m carrying it every second of every day, it relies on me. No one else. I talk to it, I read to it, I sing to it, I play games with it, I love it. Even when I’m tired, it’s keeping me awake, it’s kicking, it’s hurting me, it’s sending me to the toilet constantly, it’s making me sick, it’s waking me up at 4am. No one else feels these feelings for our baby except Me. 

Why do I feel like I have less say and control in the life of our baby?

Why do I feel like I’m carrying a little human for someone else’s maternal desire?

Why do I feel like I have to constantly fight to be seen as a mother – a mother of an unborn baby – who may be very inexperienced but who is doing everything as best as I can?

Tonight I’m in this place it has – Four Walls.. Wash Basin.. Prison Bed.

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