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#post partum depression
ravencincaide · 3 months
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Happy unhappy home!  
Summar: Soukou think you may be suffering from postpartum depression. Something you strongly disagree with. How dare they suggest you’re an incompetent mother and a threat to your children when they haven’t been around for months! Surely, they must have a different agenda behind their accusation? 
Pairing: New parents! Dazai x Chuuya x Fem! Reader!  (SKK x Fem! reader)
Inspired by Sweetober prompt 12: Chaste Kiss   
Warnings: Cursing, Postpartum depression, light hint at maternal filicide, angst and disappointment, angst
Author note: An independent part two for Desperate times call for Desperate measures. Check that fic out if you’d like more angst, new parents and see more of what happened before this scene! 
Enjoy  
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The alarm was ringing.  
It had been ringing for the past twenty minutes. A dull monotone sound that had reached its maximum amplitude sometime between minute five and eight, leaving the clock to just screech and nervously buzz closer and closer to the dresser's edge. Another loud ring followed by metallic duns as the clock jumped to its death off the bedside table, finally growing silent.  
Slowly you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, forcing your eyes open. You ran your hands over your face, heaving a heavy exhausted sigh. You were literally keeping your eyelids open with your fingers to prevent them from shutting and falling back asleep inside the hard spare bed in the shoesize room. You felt so-so drained and yet you had gotten a decent six hours of uninterrupted rest last night. Without Dazai or Chuuya craving your attention or bringing the twins to you when they became too much.  
Truly six hours of sleep was a miracle.  
Though now that morning came all you felt was a dull frustration. At that moment you did not know what was worse; the fact that you had to get up and face the day. Starting with preparing breakfast for the twins and your lovers, or the mild annoyance of having to go and buy yet another bloody alarm clock.   
At least the babies weren’t fussing. Yet.  
With great effort you dragged yourself out of bed and haphazardly put some day-old clothes on. Hair up in a bun while on the toilet and a quick wash of your face with cold water and you were ready to get started in the kitchen. You needed to put up coffee, blitz some fruit and think about a more adult-suitable breakfast. Porridge was hated by both Dazai and Chuuya but approved by the babies, while omelet was liked by no one but you. Yet another day of sandwiches was out of the option. That left you with pancakes. Glancing at the clock in the living room on your way to the kitchen, you hurriedly picked up your pace.  
Pancakes were doable- if you hurried up.   
Once you got to the kitchen you let out a low groan of frustration. The sink was full of bottles from the nightly feedings wedged between midnight snack dishes and crusty cups of coffee that had finally made their way out of your partner's room and into the kitchen sink. The espresso machine was demanding a new water filter, and you did not even want to think what the splotches and sticky mess on the counter and kitchen table were.  
For a second you didn’t know where to start- then as stress set in you felt your body come alive. You were practically tearing yourself between doing dishes, making the pancake batter and wiping the counter.  When the two non-stick pans on the stove were warming up, you ran the cleaning program on the espresso machine. Then as the pancakes fried, you wiped the table and blitzed fruit for the babies. You set up cups, cutlery and plates in between flipping the pancakes.  
Just as the first batch of pancakes were finished and the coffee machine was brewing the first cup, you heard the heavy shuffling of feet into the kitchen. You ignored them as you proceeded to whip up another batch of pancakes- realizing you made far too little to feed double black. Halfway through cracking the eggs, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.  
“You’re up early, Sweets” Chuuya yawned in your ear before placing a chase kiss on your shoulder.  
“Morning” you replied dryly, moving out of the embrace. You were fully focused on flipping the pancakes with one hand while mixing the batter with the second. “Coffee’s ready I think” you muttered, out of the corner of your eye watching a zombie looking Dazai reach for the hot cup, muttering a halfhearted morning and thanks in one breath.  
You heard Chuuya sigh heavily, disappointed, before going over to the coffee machine and brewing another cup. As the machine skimmed the milk and ground the beans, Chuuya got into a half bicker, half quiet discussion with Dazai about something. Not too long after, the two settled down at the table a few paces away continuing the hushed discussion.  
They didn’t even bother to ask- let alone step up to help you. Jerks.  
“Are you absolutely sure this is legit? And how the hell are we supposed to fill it in anyways” You heard Chuuya hiss at Dazai, making you turn your head in question towards them. You saw the two of them staring at what looked like a thick stack of papers between them- no doubt some kind of work-related report. Probably an evaluation of the new recruits or something. 
“ Of course it’s legit- I’m not an idiot like you.” Dazai stated matter of factly pointing something out on the sheets of paper with a half broken- half chewed on ink pen.  
“ Who the hell are you calling an idiot- you extra stuff that comes with bandages!” Chuuya snapped back but settled down the second he noticed your eyes on them.  
You felt your lips turn down in a frown as you flipped another bunch of pancakes: So, fucking typical. With them it was either work or the twins. While you were still just this ‘something’ that did everything around the house with little to no gratitude or help. Right then you felt like the extra stuff that comes with babies. A ghost- boggart- in your own home.   
You had just finished making pancakes when you heard a wail from upstairs. The babies had woken up. Instantly you turned off the stove: wiping your hands on a cloth you rushed upstairs to get the twins. After all, those picture-perfect fathers were not so perfect until after breakfast.  
You returned a few moments later, placing the babies in their highchairs. Then you put small bowls with mashed fruits in front of them in different cups. Yet another attempt at introducing solids into their diet. Then back to the kitchen, returning a few seconds later.  
“Here!” You dropped the two plates of pancakes in front of your so-called partners, not caring either about the loud clang the plates made against the wooden table, or the way the food slid off them. Or the way the twins clapped their hands in glee at the loud noise. You went back to the kitchen, moving things into the sink to make it easier to wash up later, while turning on the kettle for tea.  
A hot cup of chamomile or melissa tea sounded heavenly at that moment.  
Hearing the children's fuss, you abandoned both dishes and tea; rushing back towards the dining table, where Chuuya and Dazai mouths were stuffed with food. Their attention was divided between the stack of papers in front of them and the twins that were eagerly reaching for their fathers' pancakes. You felt another wave of irritation wash over you- a bitter kind of anger that you bit back before you said something you would regret. Instead, you fixed all of them with a warning look, making sure that neither Dazai nor Chuuya shared their breakfast with the twins. The last thing you needed that morning was to pull pancakes out of the children's noses.  
“Sweetheart, aren’t you going to eat anything?” Chuuya asked suddenly, sounding concerned as he watched you come closer to the table and take a seat beside the children.  
“I’m not hungry” you growled through squeezed teeth as you picked up the small plastic spoon and began trying to feed them mashed berries. After a few moments of screwed faces and the fruit going everywhere besides inside the children's mouth, you dropped the small spoon back into the colorful cup and looked up at the ceiling. You were blinking away tears of frustration. How fucking hard was this supposed to be? 
Not hard if you were to ask the pediatrician! 
“Here let me try Belladonna” Dazai gave you a small smile as he picked up the spoon you had carelessly dropped back into the mash.  With some exaggerated motions and airplane noises, the children ate the mash without any issue. As if Dazai was feeding them formulas from a spoon. Soon Chuuya joined him, wiping their mouths and then burping them once the twins were done.  
The sight warmed your heart, but it also made you feel self-conscious- a failure somehow. Why hadn’t you thought of doing that? Wasn’t it a mother's instinct to know what to do and how to care for her children?  To have an inseparable bond. And yet it seemed Dazai and Chuuya were somehow closer to the twins- despite the fact that you were the one who did the majority of the nurturing duties. Were you perhaps- not equipped to be a parent?  
The thought lingered in your head as they all finished breakfast. It lingered through the playtime with children and even as you put the twins down for their nap. When they'd wake up, you’d need to bathe them, then dress them and take them for a little time outside. And then–  
“-Belladona?” you snapped out of your thoughts when you noticed that Dazai had been talking and trying to get your attention for the past minute or so.  
“Oh sorry, what did you say?” You asked as you draped the covers over the snoozing twins and headed towards your partner who was lingering in the door of the nursery.  
Dazai flashed you a nervous smile, one of his hands in his hair, trying to make himself look less awkward. “A moment of your time dalin?” he repeated himself. You frowned, unsure why he’d suddenly ask for your time so formally. Then as you saw him shift under your gaze you felt your eyes widen with realization and nodded quickly, eagerly and followed him back to the living room.  
You sat down on the couch opposite your lovers, a hopeful feeling in your chest. They looked so nervous, bumping shoulders against each other, flickering eyes, silent motions for one or the other to start. To an outsider they would have looked like composed mafioso's- to you they looked like a bunch of nervous teenagers. You held back a giggle, the sight reminding you so much of when they first asked you to be with them- then once again when they asked you to start living together.  
You almost felt nervous yourself. And excited. And anxious. Were they really going to finally–?  
“Sweetheart there’s something we’d like to ask- no discuss with you” Chuuya started, clearly having lost whatever silent banter he and Dazai were having above your head. You felt the palms of your hands grow damp- sweaty. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your mouth dry- your ears ringing. It was finally happening, wasn’t it? You could barely contain your grin: 
“ You both know I’d say YE–” “– we think you might have postpartum depression”  
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Ice cold dread washed over you; making dark dots play in your vision. The disappointment on your face was clear. It seemed to throw both of them off guard for a moment. Like they couldn’t understand what it was you were hoping for- what you were so eager to say yes to. It took a moment for your mind to register what Chuuya said- but you certainly regained your composure quicker than either of them.   
“What?!” You snapped, narrowing your eyes dangerously at the pair, daring them to repeat themselves. “What did you just say?” 
They didn’t answer directly: Instead, they made a motion towards the stack of papers that they had been fiddling with all morning. They were laid out on the small table between you. Postpartum Assessment sheet with a bunch of ticked off boxes. You didn’t know what made you feel more insulted- that they assumed you had postpartum depression or the fact that they assessed you behind your back instead of coming and talking to you.  
You scoffed in response  
“We think you might have postpartum depression– it’s not uncommon. Especially in young, first-time mothers and–” You flew up from your seat silencing Dazai’s voice instantly.  
“No you’re just saying that because You are not around. Either of you! so it's just fucking easier to blame all the shortcomings and inadequacy on me than look at your own failures!” You began pacing, running your hands through your hair. You couldn’t believe it- that they could even think you were a threat to your own babies. To the children you birthed and raised and nurtured- stayed up nights and nights to care for. The ones you took to doctors and classes and sacrificed so much for. How fucking dare they even suggest that?! 
“ Sweetheart it isn’t..” Chuuya started. He had moved off the sofa and closer to you, hands reaching towards you, palms up. Something between an awkward attempt at a hug and reassuring you, he meant no harm.  
“No you’re right, it isn’t about that- is it? It’s cuz you want to take them away from me, right?! Want to take my babies away from me and start a partnership” Your eyes moved from Chuuya to Dazai who had remained awfully passive throughout your entire outburst. The fact that he was always absent with urgent work, then demanding Chuuya to come and help during missions suddenly made a lot more sense to you. 
Just like your bare ring finger.  
The thought stung. Instead of feeling anger however, you felt overwhelming sadness. A type of defeat that only came when you realized your own pitifulness- your own worthlessness. The naivety that those two would ever see you as their equal- a shared part of a whole. This realization left a bitter taste in your mouth; “You’ve gotten what you wanted- what you can’t create yourself- out of me and now you want to lock me up with a stamp of being incompetent? Forget it!”  
Chuuya gaped, his brain trying to come up with something that wouldn’t aggravate the situation further. He seemed to have an idea, a thought, but the words got stuck in his throat as your eyes went away from Dazai and back to him. 
Eyes full of icy fury.  
“I’m not giving them to you, not without a fight!” you snapped just as you heard the twins stirring. Their wails awakening a protective and possessive motherly instinct inside you. Without another word you brushed past Chuuya, bumping his shoulder purposefully on the way out of the living room.  
“That went brilliantly, simpleton” you heard Dazai’s voice but did not bother turning around as you headed upstairs to the twins. Out of the three of them you were the most competent to be a mother - a parent. If anyone was having ‘postpartum depression’ it was those two self-centered idiots.  
Going upstairs you picked the crying babies up and began pacing with them around the room, your mind still a jumbled mess as you pressed kisses to each of the twins' foreheads. God what were you supposed to do if they made you out to be so sick and incompetent, so you’d lose your parental rights and — and— you swallowed then shuddered as you heard your so-called partners yelling at each other downstairs. In panic you hurried to retreat to the safety of the bathroom.  
You made sure to lock the door, then barricade it.  
You took a step back from it, your heart in your throat. The children sensed your fear and wailed loudly in your arms. You shushed them quietly before going further into the bathroom. There you set the children down onto the floor only long enough to turn on the water in the bathtub in a feeble attempt to block out the bickering echoing from downstairs. You made sure the water was perfect temperature, then you hurried to pick the twins up and hugged them tightly to your chest, rocking backwards and forwards. The sound of your so-called partners' loud voices only fueled your fear and sadness. How dare they suggest you were incompetent. How dare they attempt to take these babies away from you. As if they’d be able to do a better job than you. To protect them from this cruel, cruel world! 
 No, you were not going to let Chuuya and Dazai take them away from you. Your twins- your joy. Your purpose in life.  But if they were truly serious about it– then you’d rather take yourself and your babies out of this world than risk putting them through the horrors of going even a day without their mother—.   _____________________________________________________ Update: Check out the next part A hit beyond rock bottom
All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!
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lorcandidlucienwill · 3 months
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So is Feyre just going to be completely chill after nearly dying giving birth to a baby and be ready to become a baby-making machine again or what?
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josephquinnswhore · 1 year
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Baby Blues
Pairing: Frankie Morales x female reader.
Summary: Frankie comes home late to find you struggling and wants to make it up to you.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: postpartum depression. completely self indulgent.
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It felt irrational, the resentment you felt for Frankie, his freedom to be able to just leave the house whenever he wanted, catch up with his friends and have a night away from the never ending duties you were overwhelmed with.
Realistically 3 hours wasn’t a long time, especially for Frankie, when he met up with the guys he was normally gone a lot longer, you would’ve felt grateful if you weren’t so tired and withdrawn. Unfortunately for Frankie you weren’t in the mood for anything to do with him when he got home. Everything he did annoyed you; the way he closed the door, kicked his boots off and stumbled in the darkness into the table that made a horrible screeching noise across the wooden floor. Your baby had been crying on and off for a few hours, constantly wanting to be held, nursed and rocked, long story short you were fucking exhausted. You needed help, you had rang Frankie a few times and left a voice message which he never replied to, typically.
When he walked behind you to try and slide his arms around your waist you snapped, angry tears falling down your cheeks, rage consuming you faster than a forest fire, your fussy baby wailing at your sudden movement. You groaned in frustration and gave Frankie a stern look through your tears, his face and the room illuminated a light yellow hue from your babies nightlight. You didn’t miss the frown that wrinkles his face as you pull away from him, confused by the tears and rejection.
“Let me take him baby.” In your unreasonable state, you scoff, rolling your eyes as you away gently to rock the baby back to sleep. “Don’t bother Frankie, I got it, like always. I don’t need your help.” You couldn’t ignore the way your heartstrings were stretched out at the way Frankie’s face dropped, a sadness that etched onto his face made you feel a pang of guilt in your chest.
“Is this because I went out? Baby I asked, I made sure before I left that it was okay.” You set your baby down in his bassinet, patting his bum a few times before tuning on his nighttime music, the sweet lullaby caused your own eyelids to droop as you exit the room, shutting the door. “It’s not that you left, frankie! You didn’t pick up the phone, I rang and left messages. I needed you and you just, weren’t there.”
Frankie took two steps forward and stretched his arms around your neck, pulling you into him and his warmth, his fleece flannel was soft on your skin, hot tears wetting the material. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby.” His hands are running up and down your back, tracing mindless shapes in hopes to calm you down from your overwhelmed state. “Go to bed baby, I’ll take it from here.” You bit your lip and shake your head no, feeling guilty for snapping at him. “I’m sorry for getting so mad I just-“ frankie presses a soft kiss to your lips, one that lasts barely seconds but lingers afterwards. “Don’t finish that sentence, you don’t deserve to carry this weight alone, go to bed baby.”
“Okay, I love you.” You mumble tiredly, voice croaking from the breakdown you just endured. You tread to bed and the softness of the mattress swallows you, your limbs ache ceasing once your head hits the pillow, pulling the covers over you as the fan gently whirrs in the background, the cool air on your face lulls you to sleep within the minute.
When you wake up, it’s by your own accord, not from a baby screaming, frankie showering or your alarm blaring, you wake up naturally feeling refreshed and body free from pain, your mind clear and spirit refreshed. You stretch for a few seconds, groaning at how good it feels before walking into your sons room, his bassinet was empty, but it was well made and folded semi-neatly. His pacifier and teddy sitting nicely in the corner.
Down the hall, the living room was spotless, it had been mopped, vacuumed and the appliances had been wiped down, there were two baskets on the lounge, one folded neatly of a mix of your own and Frankie’s clothes, the other being of your sons, smelling like fresh lavender.
The kitchen made you gasp, the dishes were washed and packed away, bottles had been washed, sanitised and prepped. Frankie had even made breakfast, well-brunch, considering the time you read on the microwave reads 11:28am.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” You question, voice clear but soft towards him. He smiles as he makes you a plate of your favourite breakfast foods, he’s wearing your baby carrier and your son is propped up with his face against Frankie’s chest. “You deserved it baby, after all you do for us. It was hard..” you sit down across from him at the dining table, waiting for him to continue, “I didn’t realise how hard it was, how much it takes out of you to do all these things. You do them everyday too, you know. I’m sorry I’ve been taking you for granted.” Your son coos in his sleep, the gentle vibration of Frankie’s chest as he speaks comforts the baby.
Your hand reaches over the food to place it on top of Frankie’s, “we have to do this together baby otherwise we won’t make it, it’s too hard for either of us to do alone, can I count on you?” Frankie’s thumb is caressing your hand, dark circles mark his under eyes and his wrinkles more prominent as each minute passes that he’s awake, his hair prodding in every direction from running his hair through it. “I promise you can baby, we’re in this together.” You sigh in relief at Frankie’s confession, glad to see some real progress in him wanting to be more involved in the harder parts of being a parent.
“I love you Frankie. Go get some rest hun, I’ll take him.” Frankie looks at you as he struggles to keep his eyelids from closing, “are you sure?” You huff and roll your eyes playfully, “go before you fall asleep at the table and crush out baby,” you assure, unclipping the carrier from the back and at his waist, cradling your son in your arms, he groans quietly as he readjusts in your arms. Frankie kisses your forehead and heads straight for the lounge, knowing he won’t make it to the bedroom without passing out from exhaustion. You have to give it to him; for his first all nighter he did amazing; it impressed you.
You hoped it would be the first of many. Seeing Frankie be so good at being a dad almost made you want another baby, almost.
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To the Mom with Postpartum Depression
Little hands reaching up at you.
Constantly.. reaching.
Little cries directed at you.
They are paralyzing.. sometimes.
Little person needing you.
Constantly…are you there?
This is what you wanted right? How dare you be ungrateful. How dare you miss your free time. How dare you feel overwhelmed.
This little person needs you.
How dare you be…human.
When you have a baby, people forget you are a person. Sometimes you forget you are a person.
You can be someone’s mom, and still be yourself. You can love your child and be overwhelmed. You can ask for help and need a break .
This doesn’t make you a failure. This makes you human.
And this little person you’re raising..
They need you to be human. They need you to be here. Really here.
So know that, every time you feel guilty, you are doing a great job. You are a mom now- you are somebody’s whole world. And the good days outweigh the bad.
To the mom with postpartum depression- I promise everything will be okay again one day.
Until then, breathe, and remember it’s okay to be human.
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heartfucksmouth · 8 months
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I slept a lot today but still felt awful mentally. I'm lonely in a way I can't describe. I just want to be held by Myles but also checked up on by people who say they are my friends. I wish someone would come visit me bc leaving the house can be really overwhelming with any newborn, let alone while struggling with sinking mental health.
maybe the loneliness I feel is more of a sense of isolation bc I know the people in my house (minus myles) won't and don't understand what's happening to me and I'm very private about my emotions anyways.
Aidan slept on my chest for more than 2 hours this evening and I put off going to bed bc it felt so comforting. he grabs the short baby hairs at the nape of my neck and holds them to fall asleep and I can't help but love every tug on them bc it seems like I make him feel safe and secure in those moments. they're so different than the moments where he cries and squirms and it seems like nothing I can can will soothe him. and then myles or Marsha takes him from me and he immediately quiets down. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but my brain is my enemy with this fucking depression, so it jumps on those moments as fuel to beat me down.
there are so many feelings that I experience each day... I just wish I had someone to validate them. but I'm also terrified of being that vulnerable again.
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'The Quiet and the Loud'- Fox, Helena
Disability Rep: cPTSD (MC), Asthma (MC), Addiction (SC), Heart Disease (SC), Post Partum Depression (SC)
Genre: Contemporary, Realistic Fiction, Coming of Age
Age: Young Adult
Setting: Australia
Additional Rep: Lesbian (MC, LI), Pakistani-Australian LI, wlw female couple (SCs, MCs moms), POC SCs, F/F
For more information on summaries, content warnings and additional tropes, see here:
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thelandswemadeofpaper · 6 months
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radicalfeministnews · 2 years
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Article to consider and critically discuss: "A wave of TV shows, films and books is now really getting to grips with the difficult, and sometimes shocking, realities of becoming a mother."
Media by women discussed: dark TV comedy-horror "The Baby", book, The Panic Years, by journalist Nell Frizzell, the 2016 film Prevenge (horror), Maggie Gyllenhaal's 2021 Netflix adaptation of Elena Ferrante's 2006 novel, The Lost Daughter, the much lighter sitcoms Motherland and Workin' Moms, the comedy-drama TV show from Australia The Letdown covering mothers' PTSD and struggles, Marianne Levy's new book, a collection of essays, Don't Forget To Scream written by Levy when pregnant and directly after about her experience, more books by mothers about motherhood, Mother Ship by Francesa Segal, I Am Not Your Baby Mother by Candice Brathwaite, My Wild and Sleepless Nights by Clover Stroud, A Life’s Work: On Becoming A Mother by Rachel Cusk... and Fiction books, Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder, The Harpy by Megan Hunter, and The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan on the "bad mother" stereotype and losing custody of children.
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood is mentioned at the end.
dark TV comedy-horror "The Baby" "We were excited about the possibility of exploding cultural ideals around motherhood," says co-creator Siân Robins-Grace about the starting point for the series, "and revealing the darker, violent or oppressive forces at play in that kind of ideal account of what motherhood should be. The genre of horror obviously allows you to take that to a really extreme place, and set up some really taboo situations to explore why they might be taboo."
Co-creator also said: "I think a lot of ways that motherhood is depicted is thin and uncritical, and reinforces the idea that 'the mother' is cis, female, straight, middle-class, white, caring and nurturing." so ya know, wonderful implication that a woman admitting struggle in motherhood or revulsion to it is "not cis" or that mothers being female is a stereotype. But in general she is probably just buzzwording
Her co-creator Lucy Gaymer adds that for her, the series – and genre – was a way to process her own internal battles about motherhood: "The genesis of this idea comes from me being in my 30s and feeling really confused about whether I wanted to become a parent or not, and I didn't realise that until after we'd plotted episode one, when I was like, 'Oh, of course I had that idea as it represents what it would feel like for me to become a parent right now'. It definitely comes from that place of anxiety, and also of jealousy of people who seem to feel so clearly one way or another. That feeling of not being sure feels scary and sometimes isolating."
The article name checks Rosemary's Baby, The Omen and Mommie Dearest (films) as examples of horror depictions of motherhood, and I want to say while I don't know the 2nd two the film of Rosemary's Baby is sexist and from a sexualizing, terrorizing women as titillation, male view, even if we could also have a good reading of it (disagreement welcome)
A recent book, The Panic Years, by journalist Nell Frizzell. The book covers the "biological deadline" women have to consider when thinking about trying to be pregnant at some point
"2016 film Prevenge, another horror story in which a pregnant woman's foetus orders her to carry out a series of murders to avenge her partner's death. As the baby's chipmunk-esque voice threatens her ("What did I say will happen if you don't do as I say? Blood will be shed, one way or another") it's extreme and ridiculous of course, but, deep down, speaks to fears that many carry about the power that the living being inside them holds over them. As Ruth (Alice Lowe) says about missing an ultrasound scan: "I don't want to know what's in there. I'm scared of her. I'm not even in control. It's like I'm some crap, banged out car and she's driving, I'm just the vehicle," she tries to explain to the patronising midwife, who replies with another platitude."
More quotes from the article on Prevenge:
While I've never procreated a homicidal infant, I have had two babies delivered prematurely by emergency C-section who both required a five-week-long stay in a NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) – and so slasher horror plot aside, the abject terror around labour and birth that the film depicts is something I can relate to. Even before my double traumatic labours, while pregnant with my first child, I remember feeling like the experience was akin to knowing you're going to be in a car crash, but you don't know when, or how bad it's going to be.
Understandably, it's hard to relax and "enjoy the pregnancy" as you're so often reminded by healthcare professionals, midwives and anyone else who happens to be walking past in the street. Portrayals in popular culture push the idea that babies are something that happen to you, rather than because of you. In Prevenge – aside from all the slash-and-kill sprees – it's implied that Ruth is already a bad mother as she's breaking the unspoken code of complying and not complaining, as her baby hasn't even been born yet. In an interview with Indiewire, Lowe – who was eight months' pregnant when she wrote, acted in and directed the film – said: "I kind of took all my frustrations of what I was feeling… Suddenly, you're a mother and people think different about you and you don't have control over your job anymore. All of this stuff, I was feeling fairly grim and dark about, and I just put it in this film."
"Another mother breaking the code is Leda, the protagonist of The Lost Daughter, Maggie Gyllenhaal's 2021 Netflix adaptation of Elena Ferrante's 2006 novel. While not a horror story, Leda (Olivia Colman) is regarded as something of a monster by the family she meets on the beach while holidaying in Greece – including the pregnant woman who she tells bluntly: "Children are a crushing responsibility". The character then flips the script on how mothers are expected to act with her unsettlingly unpredictable behaviour: she helps find a lost young girl on the beach to the relief of her family, only to steal her doll, watching the girl's devastation unfold, to play with at home. Over the course of the film, we discover she's behaved in this kind of impulsive way before, committing the most unthinkable, most transgressive of acts – in the eyes of much of society, anyway – and walking out of her family home, leaving her two young daughters behind.
Through flashbacks we see young Leda (Jessie Buckley) struggle as a young mum with her career, relationships, sexuality and personal sense of being, as well as some clearly unprocessed trauma from her own mother. The story asks the audience to confront an uncomfortable question: who was my mother before I was born? What were her desires, wills and opinions before she was in this role; and what has happened to those now?"
When it comes to the frustrations of motherhood, the sitcoms Motherland and Workin' Moms explore this territory in a lighter fashion, foregrounding in a both realistic and hilarious way the manic juggle that parents – mainly mums, if we're being honest – are expected to undertake. Mistakes will inevitably be made, and then there's the guilt and shame to contend with when this happens.
Another comedy-drama that has nailed the complications and conflicting emotions of the maternal experience is Australia's The Letdown. So much popular culture tells the story of pregnancy and birth – typically shown in a nice, neat, two-minute montage of a woman crying and screaming – and then wraps things up there. Which is why The Letdown was refreshingly unusual in starting its story when its lead character was two-months post-birth. Having been through a distressing labour, we see Audrey (Alison Bell) seriously minimising her experience and telling her mum-and-baby group: "It was fine, thanks, in the end, C-section," while also emphasising she was "not too posh to push. I didn't elect it." She's already guiltily justifying an experience that was out of her hands, in the hope that people don't judge her for it. 
"As the show goes on through its two series, we're shown in both banal and excruciating detail how difficult it can be just to get through the day with a newborn, and the emotional weight of the first year that hangs heavy each day. Finally, fighting back tears, Audrey admits why she's struggling: "It wasn't a great start. I kept arguing for a natural birth because I'd read all this stuff and… we nearly lost her." One of the other characters later suggests Audrey has PTSD – official figures estimate anywhere between three to nine percent of women who give birth do, although it's likely that many more women are never diagnosed. For me, that PTSD hit home on my son's first birthday – while everyone was celebrating his arrival, I was experiencing upsetting flashbacks of the anniversary of one of the scariest days of my life. Everything ended up fine, I was reminded by my partner and well-meaning friends, and that's all that mattered, wasn't it?"
Marianne Levy's new book, Don't Forget To Scream. In one anecdote, she explains: "I got chatting to a mum at the school gate and I asked her about her experience of birth. 'Oh, it was awful,' she said. 'It's why I only have one. But, you know, it's fine.' 'Is it?' I said. She thought for a moment. 'No'."
Don't Forget To Scream is a collection of essays making sense of the psychological shifts and heavy emotional turmoil of becoming a mother, which also reflect on why people are so unwilling to talk about these. "After my daughter was born eight years ago, when I tried to tell people what was happening to me, they told me I was wrong, or mistaken," Levy tells BBC Culture, explaining what led her to write the book. "It was as though, on becoming a mother, my language had lost its meaning. A few times, they literally walked away. So when my son was born four years later, instead of speaking, I wrote. I found I could be truthful on the page in a way that I could not in conversation."
More visceral books about birth and bringing up children: Mother Ship by Francesa Segal, I Am Not Your Baby Mother by Candice Brathwaite, My Wild and Sleepless Nights by Clover Stroud
The writer that arguably first paved the way for this line of memoir, Rachel Cusk's A Life’s Work: On Becoming A Mother (2001). Cusk – an acclaimed novelist – left London with her partner and small child, found herself pregnant once again, and wrote what one reviewer described as "akin to a war diary".
Cusk faced fall out from publishing it: "I was accused of child-hating, of postnatal depression, of shameless greed, of irresponsibility, of pretentiousness, of selfishness, of doom-mongering and, most often, of being too intellectual." But equally, she noted how she was also lauded for her frankness, quoting one appreciative critic who had written how "Motherhood, as it is lived, is still individual, personal, private, and therefore deeply undervalued, sometimes even by those of us who move between the 'real' world of work and the shadow world of family life. Between these worlds, Cusk has crafted a work of beauty and wisdom."
Other writers have notably been turning to fiction recently to portray motherhood in its most animalistic form – from the woman who metamorphosises into a dog in Rachel Yoder's Nightbitch (now being made into a film with Amy Adams) to the half-bird-half-human inspiration for Megan Hunter's tale of family life and adultery, The Harpy. Or they have gone dystopian, as with The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan which examines the "bad mother" stereotype via the tale of a mother losing custody of her daughter and being sent to an institution in order to dwell on her failings.
Key Quote in the Article:
"For me, the negative depiction is that of the perfect mother; the traditional image of a woman brimming with endless tender love who never entertains a moment's negativity (or, indeed, personality)… We seem to have removed the space for women to speak freely and openly about their experiences having and raising babies and children. The result is tremendously harmful. The consequences, for maternal mental health, the mental health of our children, and wider societal health, economics and equality, are appalling." - Marianne Levy, author of Don't Forget to Scream
BBC/AMC adaptation of Adam Kay's bestselling medical memoir, This Is Going To Hurt, which follows Kay's real-life experiences as a junior doctor on an ​​Obstetrics and Gynaecology ward in a British hospital, also came under fire for its traumatic scenes of women giving birth, as well what "positive birth" expert Milli Hill called the "paternalistic, misogynistic attitude" of Kay towards his female patients. But others argued the depiction of the maternal experience was creditable for being uncomfortably real. Times journalist Alice Jones wrote that she "didn't feel angry watching This Is Going to Hurt, I felt glad that someone was telling the truth. Birth can be beautiful, but it's also brutal. What are we going to do about that?"
Culture exploring the darker side of motherhood may also now have an extra resonance at a time when, in the US, some states are intending to remove the constitutional right to an abortion, after the Supreme Court overturned the case of Roe vs Wade. In one harrowing episode of The Baby, we see how the titular child's biological mother – Helen (Tanya Reynolds) – is held hostage and forced to give birth, in scenes reminiscent of The Handmaid's Tale; Robins-Grace explains how differently that scene hits home for her now. "It's sobering to realise that we were naive to believe, in a legislative way, that [abortion] was off the table."
More generally, the fact that current films, TV series and books might shock us and shatter our collective illusions about motherhood is only a good thing, says Levy. "Popular culture finally seems to be waking up to the idea that mothers can be interesting, dynamic characters in their own right, front and centre to the story, with all the foibles and flaws and fascinating facets exhibited by the rest of humanity." 
Articles linked within the article:
"The Science of Safe and Healthy Baby Sleep" https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20220131-the-science-of-safe-and-healthy-baby-sleep
"Mumsnet is driving fear of childbirth, expert warns" https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/mumsnet-is-driving-fear-of-childbirth-expert-warns-fztj8qlth
"Motherhood doesn’t have to mean misery Alienation, despair and boredom have become the default depiction of life after children. Where’s the joy gone, asks Rosie Kinchen" https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/motherhood-doesnt-have-to-mean-misery-cbqf3trjt
"I was only being honest: When author Rachel Cusk wrote A Life's Work, her disarmingly frank account of motherhood, she was shocked by the vicious reaction it provoked from other women. The experience forced her to question herself as a writer and a parent, as she records here" https://www.theguardian.com/books/2008/mar/21/biography.women
"Postpartum Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" https://www.postpartum.net/learn-more/postpartum-post-traumatic-stress-disorder/
"Traumatic birth and post-traumatic stress disorder" https://www.nct.org.uk/labour-birth/you-after-birth/traumatic-birth-and-post-traumatic-stress-disorder
"This is Going to Hurt: What medical shows get right and wrong" https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20220209-what-tv-medical-shows-get-right-and-wrong
"This Is Going to Hurt: misogyny on the maternity ward? Are claims that the BBC’s new hit is hateful towards women correct?" https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/this-is-going-to-hurt-misogyny-on-the-maternity-ward-wqllbj2t9
"Abortion: What does overturn of Roe v Wade mean?" https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-61804777
"Why The Handmaid’s Tale is so relevant today" https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20180425-why-the-handmaids-tale-is-so-relevant-today
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catsp1racy · 1 year
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Fic recs #55: Roaring Storms
The new baby is finally old enough to go out of the house, Draco really can’t wait for his mother to properly meet her new grandchild.
Suspiciously, Narcissa kept moving their meet up date around, until she finally agrees to have a lunch at the Manor.
Relived, Draco returns to Malfoy Manor. But he enters, he is more than surprised to be greeted by not one, but both of his parents.
His blood runs cold.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/36900238
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beckleboo · 1 year
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cate-reads · 1 year
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I’m sitting here crying because I love my husband and daughter so much. I really wish I could show this to depressed, suicidal 17-year-old Cate. Or even 27-year-old Cate in the depth of post-partum depression. Things get better, they really do.
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violetjedisylveon · 1 year
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Adjusting
Summary: Ahsoka and Kaeden adjust to their duties in the early rebellion and their month old daughter while Ahsoka grapples with the fallout of her pregnancy.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Post partum cramps, post partum depression, pain, blood, menstrual blood. Breast feeding and lactation are mentioned. And lots of lovey dovey fluff!
A/N: All of the post partum stuff waited a bit to hit and last longer than they should for a normal pregnancy for reasons. I did do my research on the topic back when I wrote this, so I know what happens after pregnancy. It's not pretty. Most of this chapter comes from Kaeden's perspective.
Kaesoka child AU link here.
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Kaeden turned the alarm off before it could wake Ahsoka. It was feeding time for Padmé.
She picked the tiny infant up out of her bedside crib and gently roused her. The soft glow of night vision eyes told her the little girl was awake.
"Morning sweetie, it's feeding time." She whispered softly.
Padmé yawned and nuzzled into her warm mother. Kaeden patted her back and went to the feeding chair. She found a cradle hold most comfortable for feeding. Ahsoka prefered a laying down position which was easier on her, especially for night feedings.
She lifted up the flap of her nursing shirt and let her daughter latch on.
It was the weirdest thing, while Ahsoka had been gone, Kaeden had noticed her own body acting as though it were pregnant or expecting. She never developed any baby bump or those parts of a pseudo pregnancy. She'd done a few scans on herself to see what was going on and the results told her that her body just decided it needed to prepare for lactation.
To say she was confused, was saying the least. She'd been completely dumbfounded by the whole experience and decided to consult the translated copies of the nightsister books in Ahsoka's possession, since that was how they found out exactly what was going on in the first place. A part her wife had missed the first look was that this sort of pregnancy affected all partners, while one would carry and do the normal pregnancy stuff, except faster, and the others would have their body think it was having a baby that they needed milk for.
So, in an alarming turn of events, Kaeden, although she hadn't been pregnant, was producing milk for their daughter. She'd told Ahsoka, and they shared the feeding duties. She knew Ahsoka was grateful for the breaks, her cramps would sometimes get worse when feeding.
It was an adjustment for both of them, to say the least, they tried making a feeding schedule but ended up settling on whoever was closest or most awake or most rested to take the next feeding.
Their whole situation was a big adjustment.
Kaeden looked down at Padmé, she was slowing down. Kaeden rocked gently, easing her daughter back to sleep.
It wasn't a situation she'd change for anything, well, she'd definitely convince Ahsoka to give birth here instead of whatever frozen backwater she went to if she had the chance.
She glanced over at Ahsoka's sleeping form. Unfortunately, Ahsoka had to deal with postnatal cramps, she could see the discomfort on her wife's face from here.
I'll go get her a pain relief pill. She left their room quietly with Padmé.
XXX
Ahsoka woke up with a powerful and painful cramp, she groaned and waited for it to pass. Her Jedi training surprisingly came in handy for this, it helped her focus on other things and ignore the pain.
However, her focus landed on the cold wetness on her sheets.
She was leaking, again.
She rolled over to get out of bed and change her shirt and maybe get the extra sheet she'd been sleeping with since returning. But then another cramp hit her and she decided to stay put.
Very quickly, she noticed the absence of warmth in her bed. Kaeden was gone.
Maybe she caught it before me and-! The alarm went off, so Padmé needed a feeding. Odd, it felt like more than two hours she'd been asleep.
Ahsoka begrudgingly hauled herself out of bed, then she noticed Padmé was gone too. Kaeden must be feeding her. Ahsoka realised.
She was content with that and settled back down into bed.
The door opened quietly, the mattress dipped, Kaeden's warm hand brushed her shoulder.
"Soka, I've got you a pain relief." Kaeden whispered.
Ahsoka rolled over and took the pill from her wife. Kaeden was holding Padmé, her hunch had been correct.
"You feed Padmé?" She asked in a soft murmur.
"Yep, she's fed, I'll take the next feeding too." Kaeden told her.
"M'kay." Ahsoka was too tired to argue with her wife right now.
Keaden leaned over and planted a few small kisses on her cheek.
"Get some rest, Soka, you deserve it." Kaeden whispered.
Ahsoka drifted back to sleep with the comforting sound of her wife's steady heartbeat.
XXX
Kaeden heard something break, then shouting and cursing from the kitchen. She popped her head around the corner to see what had happened.
Ahsoka was standing in the kitchen with half a broken bowl on the counter, the other half was on the floor with the splattered batter mixture. Her face was flushed and she was sniffling. She looked up to Kaeden and offered a weak smile.
"Hi Kay." She gave a little wave, then she started crying.
"Oh Soka, what's wrong? What happened?" Kaeden strode across the kitchen and let Ahsoka cry into her.
She didn't speak for a while, Kaeden was content to stay with her in silence.
"Fuck. Kaeden, I'm so tired." Ahsoka muttered.
"How can I help you?" Kaeden asked.
Ahsoka frowned.
"I don't know, I just- there's so much going on with the baby and the bleeding and the hormones flying all over the place and all the postnatal stuff that decided it could wait till I was back to start showing up and and, just everything! I feel like I'm drowning!" Ahsoka shouted.
Padmé, who was seated in her carrier, the only thing they had that would be easy to carry around everywhere, at the table, suddenly woke up. Her face scrunched up and she started crying. 
"Fuck." Ahsoka groaned
Kaeden left her wife briefly and went to sooth the bawling infant. She lifted Padmé out of the carrier, cradling her in her arms close to her chest and rocking back and forth lightly.
She could see Ahsoka watching her from the corner of her eye, she knew Ahsoka was already feeling guilty for waking their daughter up.
"'m sorry Kay." Ahsoka murmured.
"It's fine, we'll clean it up and Padmé will be back to sleep in no time. It's not your fault." Kaeden told her wife, pressing a gentle kiss onto her cheek.
Truthfully, she doubted that the shouting had woken Padmé up, since the infant had slept through the breaking bowl. She assumed it was a response to Ahsoka's emotions more than anything else, the little one was Force sensitive.
"Don't worry Soka, we'll get the hang of this in no time." She said, hoping to encourage Ahsoka.
Ahsoka just gave her an unconvinced nod. She'd have to get better at convincing her.
XXX
Kaeden heard water running and sloshing in the fresher as she finished drying out her hair from her shower. Padmé cooed sleepily, it was almost time for bed, for both of them. Managing a ship, rebel duties and a newborn was beyond exhausting. She was so grateful for Zevra and Rinu and all the desperately needed help they gave. She smiled down at her daughter, patting her fuzzy head before knocking on the fresher door.
"Soka? You in there?" Kaeden asked.
She got a soft sound of conformation. Kaeden slipped in and shut the door softly. She could smell blood, and didn't even need to look to know where it was coming from.
Ahsoka's postnatal cramps were certainly a bitch.
A bloody fucking bitch.
Ahsoka was laying in the tub with her head resting against the edge, the water was tainted red. Instead of gently reminding Ahsoka that she shouldn't lay in the tub while her cervix was still somewhat dilated, as she probably should have, Kaeden just sat down next to the tub. She knew Ahsoka had just wanted to lay down and not be standing.
Ahsoka was tired, so tired. Her bright eyes were dulled with exhaustion, she had big bags under her eyes. She hardly registered Kaeden's presence, only glancing at her a few times.
"I'll feed Padmé and get her to bed if you want a few more minutes, Soka." Kaeden whispered.
Ahsoka didn't offer much of a response, only giving a small nod of acknowledgement. Kaeden left as quietly as she could manage. She settled in the rocking chair and let Padmé feed, rocking occasionally to lull the infant to sleep.
Padmé yawned a few times, Kaeden burped her, and waited for her to fall asleep. She set Padmé down in her crib, swaddled in the purple star blanket that was undoubtedly her favorite, then went back to the fresher to check on Ahsoka.
Her wife was still sitting there in the slightly bloody water. Dull, tired eyes glanced over at her, Kaeden smiled a bit.
"Soka, I think it's time to sleep, you look really tired." Kaeden said softly.
Ahsoka sighed and slowly sat up, Kaeden turned the water on low so she could help Ahsoka rinse off. She gently poured warm water over Ahsoka until the tint of red was washed away. She retrieved a chilled pad for Ahsoka and helped her dry off. It was fine if Ahsoka was tired, too tired to properly take care of herself at the end of a long day, Kaeden didn't mind doing it for her.
Suddenly, Ahsoka spoke.
"… I'm sorry Kay…"
Kaeden shot her wife a confused stare.
"Whatever for?" She asked.
"I'm sorry I can't do anything, I feel like I've hardly done anything since I got back and you have been doing everything I should be doing. I feel so disorganized and scattered, I can hardly focus long enough to get anything done, I'm just worrying about everything for no reason and I'm so stupid tired all the time. I can't do anything and half the time I'm hardly even here, I'm always thinking and worrying and tired and it doesn't make any sense!" Ahsoka erupted, quickly wincing at the accidental shouting.
"I'm sorry that you have to do everything for me. I'm trying. I'm really, really trying. I don't know what's wrong with me." Ahsoka murmured.
Kaeden took a second to gather her words. She had never been the greatest with words, in her own opinion.
"Soka, there's nothing wrong with any of that, it's normal to be tired and have anxiety like you do after giving birth, it's all normal." She said.
"And I don't mind having to take care of you, I like taking care of you. You were always running around, working yourself into the ground and trying to take care of everyone else before, you never let me take care of you." Kaeden took one of Ahsoka's hands in hers.
"You don't need to apologize, I really don't mind, and you just went through one of the weirdest pregnancies ever, it would be wrong of me to be upset with you for the fallout of that, especially when I wasn't affected the same way as you were. You don't need to worry Ahsoka, I wouldn't stop loving you if you annoyed me for a bit." Kaeden leaned forwards and pressed a small kiss onto Ahsoka's forehead.
"I love you, and I love everything that comes with you, good and bad, I can find a way to love it all. I'll always be here when you need me, you'll never chase me away." Kaeden murmured, her lips brushing against Ahsoka's skin.
"C'mon, let's go to bed."
She helped Ahsoka out of the tub and into a pair of fresh clothes. She did mean everything she had said, she loved everything about Ahsoka, from her protective worry to her inspiring courage and everything else in between. While some things did frustrate her, like Ahsoka's stubbornness, it wasn't that much of a problem and she loved that stubbornness too.
She led Ahsoka to bed and laid down with her, once she got Padmé's crib attached to the bed so the baby could roll over to them if she wished. She wrapped her arms around Ahsoka and murmured soft, encouraging words between gentle kisses, as Ahsoka had done with her right after Raada. Well, not the kissing.
"Don't worry Soka, we'll get the hang of this, it'll just take time, but we'll get there." Kaeden whispered.
Ahsoka nodded and mumbled something, she was already half asleep. Kaeden smiled at her sleeping wife.
"I love you Soka, sleep tight." She gave Ahsoka a final kiss before letting herself go to sleep.
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Poor Ahsoka, she's going through some rough times. Good thing she has Kaeden! And Zevra and Rinu. Also Bail definitely gave her a good maternity leave, but Ahsoka can't sit still and is doing stuff anyway.
Also Kaeden and Ahsoka shifted from calling each other girlfriend and partner to wife because, they've got a kid now so why not?
I think next chapter I'm gonna have Bail visit to lend the Fulcrums Artoo and see the baby! It's probably gonna be a bit of a shorter chapter, like how this was.
I hope you all have a good day, whatever that is for you!
VJS Out!
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mommaisaghost · 2 years
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Im sorry baby. Mama is sad.
Can't function. Can't showered you all the love you deserved. Sorry making you heard all of those cries, saw the so expressless face when you want to play with me.
Im sorry. Im just sad. I don't know how to deal with it.
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raspberryconverse · 1 year
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Reading a Reddit thread where this man married a woman who told him from the get-go that she didn't want to have kids and when she expressed that she wanted to get her tubes removed, he coerced her into having a kid. She has fairly obvious PPD and they're both having trouble bonding with the kid, so he wants to call CPS because she's not doing what he assumes she's supposed to do with the child.
I dated a woman 10 years ago who broke up with me because she really wanted kids (to the point where she needed a hip replacement, but was putting it off because she wanted to carry a child) and I didn't. I actually had convinced myself that I did want kids because I didn't want to break up with her.
Thank you, Sandi, for seeing through that and breaking my heart. It was horrible to go through at the time (though I know some of it was other things going on in my life like losing my job and my roommate requesting I move out), but holy shit, was that the right thing to do. It's very reassuring to look back and realize that 20-something Coley didn't know any better and 30-something Coley is child-free and living her best life with her NB spouse and dogs (ok, the cat is kind of an asshole sometimes, but she isn't that bad either). I clearly didn't know any better and was willing to settle because I didn't think I was going to find someone, but she recognized that and let me go. It did take a long time to find the person who is truly right for me (5 years!), but I did eventually and am thankful she wouldn't let me settle.
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sunflowerlou28 · 2 years
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Where have you been? Are you gonna make any new memes? Used to follow you on insta. Any plans on coming back there?
I just gave birth a few weeks back. Louis got me through my pregnancy and definitely helped me through my terrible ppd. It was hell but I listened to Harry's house and Walls on repeat .
(LT2 when ? )
Also , don't remind me. There's a reason why I left.
I don't make memes anymore.I just enjoy the content now. So many talented people in the fandom , I never run out of creative art peices and funny memes to enjoy.
Also, can i just add , not that I didn't already know-
Having a baby just made EVERYTHING around bg and the events that followed after the baby was born including the pap walks and doll shaking festival dance etc a million times more crazier to me.
I mean, I can't even comprehend that we as human beings witnessed that and are still being called the crazy ones. Well, what's new 😎
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drag-tween · 4 months
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