I went home that night thinking of him as I lay in bed with my fiancé. It was eating away at me. I tried to ignore it, push it to the back of my mind. It seemed the harder I tried the more it became impossible. I laid awake for hours that night watching my partner sleeping peacefully, it felt as with every toss and turn my mind made that night so did my unborn child. I felt sick. I felt disloyal. How could I be planning a future with someone and be infatuated with another? I fell into a unsettled sleep that night.
When I woke my mind was made up. I was determined to give my daughter the family she deserved, I wasn't going to give up on her father for my own selfish needs. I learned to love another, I was devoted to my partner convinced it would work. And for some time it did. A few months passed and taken by surprise we found our silver lining. My angel took her first breath.
When you have depression, joy is short lived. I struggled to cope, really struggled. There had been times when I had a delicate newborn in my arms and all I wanted to do was scream. I felt abnormal, I didn't have this unconditional bond that everyone talked about. I saw her as chore, rather than the bundle of joy she was.
The depression had really got its claws in this time. I couldn't find the light at the end of the tunnel. I didn't love my child, what kind of mother doesn't love their child?! I wasn't a mother at all. I was just a carrier. This is when I realised it wasn't fair on this child for me to continue putting her through this dreadful situation. Adoption. This is the word that caused the descent of my partner and me. I longed for somebody to love her, she was around constant arguing and some of these becoming very heated. My partner couldn't understand and that made a very weak person almost unable to function.
I had spoken to my partner's mum and she suggested I went to the doctor's. I got referred to counselling, this was just another nightmare. I was told I was too young to cope with the pressures of parenthood, it was normal. I had to ride it out. What a load of sh!t. I never went back, I had never felt so small and useless in my life. I cried all night long, I felt worthless. Things just got worse and worse for me. Our relationship did not just consist of two anymore, I'd had messages from other girl telling me that they'd been with my man. My partner. The man I lay in bed with every night.
I broke my promise to my daughter. At about six months old my child nearly became motherless. I'd thrown myself in front of a car. Saved in a split second by her dad. From that day on that's all I owed him. My life. I began to hate up waking up to him. He should have let me die that night instead he put me through the daily torture of being alive. 6 long months we pretended. Pretending to be happy. Pretending to love each other. Our relationship had lost meaning, it was two actors playing their parts. Just before our princess turned one I received a message, "How are things since the last time we spoke?"
Why now?! Things were rocking between awful and good with my partner. More bad than good, I was vulnerable to his power at this moment in time. He began to consume more and more of my mind, eating away at my free time like a disease. I began to find myself resenting my partner more with each day, we were arguing about arguing. It was becoming a daily struggle. His parents grew tired of us and sat us down. This was it. The dreading truth we had both been hoping to avoid. We were told our relationship wasn't healthy and it would be better for our daughter to grow up in two happy homes rather than a broken one. This was the day we walked away from each other. A lift home and a kiss on the cheek and that was goodbye.