Childhood Sexual Abuse and Becoming a Mum for the First Time: My Personal Experience.

For Maternal Mental Health Awareness week (#MaternalMHMatters) I’ve decided to write a post about my experiences of being a childhood sexual abuse survivor and becoming a mum for the first time. It is my hope that it will raise awareness of some of the difficulties that can arise during pregnancy and beyond, and also show others with similar experiences that they are not alone.

My partner and I have always wanted children, and this pregnancy was planned. It took me a long time though to decide that I was “ready” to try for a baby. For a long time, I felt as though I wouldn’t be able to care for my baby in the way he or she would deserve. I felt as though I would be a bad mum and that my baby would not be safe with me. I felt as though I would destroy this innocent child’s future, based solely on the fact that my own childhood was destroyed - because I blamed myself for the sexual abuse I endured. It felt very logical for me to connect the two things - it was my fault I was abused, therefore I would carry it forward and be a bad mum to my own child.

In terms of waiting until I was “ready” to try for a baby, I also had to factor in the possibility of being triggered by pregnancy related stuff, and how I would potentially cope with that. Would I be strong enough to cope with whatever was thrown my way? Would my changing body shape trigger me, in terms of not having full control over my own body? What about when the midwife wanted to examine me? What about the labour itself? Would I have a flashback in the middle of labour when I had my vagina out on show? What about the pain? Would that also trigger a flashback? What if I did have a flashback and then me being under huge stress during labour caused the baby to struggle - Would I therefore be a bad mum before the baby even decided to leave my womb? What about after the baby is born? Given my history of trauma and mental illness, would I end up getting poorly in the post natal period, as I was high risk? Would I be letting my partner down, and also my baby? What if I never got well again? What would happen to my baby then? Would having a child of my own bring back deeply hidden trauma memories straight back to the surface? Would PTSD rear its ugly head again? Would I end up self harming again? Would I end up proving to myself and everyone else that I’m a total failure and my baby would be better off without me?

Those are just some of the worries and fears that I had. It would all swirl around in my mind at various points in my life, including after we had made the decision to try for a baby. If I’m completely honest, I still even now worry about some of the things I’ve mentioned here. My baby is a toddler now, and I know that I’ve been a good mum and that they are doing well, but because of my past, I still doubt myself quite often. 

I had been “stable” for quite a while when we decided to try for a baby. I always knew that I would struggle silently with that negative inner voice of mine, screeching loudly about how I would be a terrible mother - but I also knew that I was ready to be a mother, and that I was a good person. I was in the right place to embark on this new journey.

It was amazing to find out I was pregnant. I remember feeling so excited, and I also remember my partner’s reaction when I shared the happy news with him. We were both so happy. As first time parents, just like every other first time parents, we had no real idea of what we were letting ourselves in for (haha!) but throughout my pregnancy, we were both happily and excitedly preparing for our little bundle of joy to arrive. 

I remained “stable” and well throughout my pregnancy, which I’m relieved about. I was still referred to a specialist perinatal mental health team due to being high risk of developing post partum psychosis, but the team were brilliant though. We were able to produce a care plan together, focusing on what would happen should I become unwell, and also giving me time to express my own wishes about what I would like to happen, especially regarding medication. We also decided that it would be wise to inform the maternity ward of my risk of having flashbacks during labour. I was reluctant to do this, but after some thought, we decided that it would be better if they were aware. 

As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, the thought of labour was quite frightening. I think it can be scary for most mums, regardless of their past, but I felt a heightened sense of fear. I was worried about the pain I would experience and how it would likely bring back some really difficult memories for me. I was also worried about control. As an abuse survivor, control is something that is very important to me - Especially control over my own body. Labour would take a lot of that control away from me. I wouldn’t be able to just say, “OK I change my mind. Can we stop the labour process now?” I would have to cope with the lack of control. I’ll be honest, it frightened me a lot. 

Labour for me was thankfully not as traumatic as it could have been. I was induced, which actually helped me a lot as  it turns out. That’s not something I’ve ever openly spoken about to anyone before, but now that I can look back on my experience, I think it did help with my anxiety. I knew that once I was at the hospital and induced, that I would be staying there and at some point having my baby. I didn’t have to cope with “waiting” for the baby to decide they were ready to come meet me. I do think that waiting in that way would have made me worry even more, and allow the sense of dread I had inside me to get worse and worse. I was induced for medical reasons and I knew in advance that it would be happening, so maybe that’s why it helped ease my anxiety. I know induction isn’t ideal though. It’s not something I requested, though part of me wishes it could be requested for my next labour. I probably won’t try to request it though, because I know that it would be better to let nature take its course, and that my baby will come when they are ready. But it is of course easier for me to say that now that I’ve already had a baby and have more of an idea of what to expect and how I might feel. I just wanted to make a point of saying that being induced did help me, as a survivor of abuse. Just in case there is anyone out there who has been feeling similar about a possible induction, but didn’t want to express that to anyone in case they felt bad about feeling that way. You’re not alone.

I had an epidural to help with the pain, and also gas and air. I knew that pain would be a massive trigger for me, and so I was relieved to have this pain relief available. Unfortunately, I did end up having a flashback in the end. My partner was there with me and was incredibly supportive. He helped me through it. As for the rest of labour, I actually don’t recall all that much of it. I know the facts - a ventouse delivery and a third degree tear. But beyond that, I don’t really remember much. I had a fever during labour, and I remember feeling out of it, partly due to that (?) and also possibly dissociation? I don’t really know. It’s not something I’ve given much thought to, because I was glad I couldn’t remember parts of it. All I know is that I feel very lucky that it wasn’t as traumatic as it could have been. Past memories of abuse could have completely taken over and scared the crap out of me, or control could have been taken away from me even more by having to have an emergency C section or something. 

The first time I remember properly holding my baby in my arms was when I was being wheeled down on the trolley bed to the post natal ward. I remember feeling overwhelmed. I remember seeing people walking past me and smiling at me, smiling at my baby and/or saying congratulations. It all felt very surreal. I actually had a baby in my arms. A tiny little baby whose mummy was......me.

I remember feeling a lot of love for my baby from very early on. A CPN was coming to see me on the post natal ward a few days after I’d given birth, just to check in (and no doubt look out for any signs of illness). I remember sitting in the chair with my baby, and telling the CPN that hopefully I had managed to escape post partum psychosis because I felt fine. I don’t think I realised at the time that it was only early days. 

Unfortunately, I did go on to develop post partum psychosis. I don’t want to talk about the psychosis in much detail, because I’m still not ready to get in to it. I’ve tried to write it down several times, but I realised that it wasn’t going to happen. I’m just not ready to go back to that place in my mind. I did end up in a mother and baby unit, and as I’ve written in a previous blog post, the care I received from the perinatal team was absolutely fantastic. They were all brilliant. 

Becoming a mother did bring some things to the surface for me to do with the childhood sexual abuse. It didn’t happen straight away because of how poorly I was with psychosis, but once I started to recover, lots of thoughts, feelings and memories came bubbling to the surface. I remember feeling an overwhelming amount of guilt just hitting me suddenly because of my choice to breastfeed whilst taking mental health medication. I felt as though I was letting my baby down. I had my health visitor tell me how great it was that I was able to breastfeed, even when I was poorly, but what about the medication? Was I harming my baby? I felt like a terrible mum because of it, despite any reassurance I was given from others. Then I also felt like a terrible mum when it got to the point where I needed more help with night feeds and we decided to combi feed. I could sense that it was frowned upon, and so again I felt like I was letting my baby down. I felt as though I would have been a better mum if I wasn’t so “weak”. I felt as though my past was catching up with me and that I was therefore carrying around some kind of banner with me that said, “I was sexually abused as a child and because I’m not strong enough to deal with the effects of that, I’m probably harming my baby too”. Externally, I was putting on a front, smiling for everyone, pretending to be confident, whilst internally I was screaming at myself for not being a good enough mother.

That’s the thing about sexual abuse. You can feel confident enough to finally say, “it wasn’t my fault”, and not only say it, but believe it too. But it doesn’t stop that niggling voice inside of you, telling you that actually it was your fault and you’re an awful person because of it. There are times when that voice is very quiet. It’s still there somewhere, but it’s not making enough noise to affect you. But then all of a sudden and BANG, it’s back at the front of your mind, yelling at you for being such a terrible person and questioning why you would ever think that you of all people could ever have it in you to look after a baby and be a good mum. It never really goes away. It’s just something you have to adapt to. I try to ignore that voice as much as possible these days, and I am lucky to be in a position where I am able to do that.

I definitely gave myself a hard time for my feeding choices. Breastfeeding, formula feeding, expressing milk (or the inability to do so), the fear of judgement from others...it was difficult. Before I leave the topic of breastfeeding, I wanted to write a little about how a childhood sexual abuse survivor can find breastfeeding difficult because of it triggering painful traumatic memories. I have no personal experience of breastfeeding triggering me in that way, but I wanted to mention it in this blog post because I don’t think it is spoken about enough as a reason for some women feeling unable to breastfeed. We need to support women to make the best feeding choices that they can, not only for their baby, but for them too. Mum’s health is also important, and if an abuse survivor feels that breastfeeding will trigger them, then professionals need to hear that and respect it.

Another thing that I found difficult was the amount of love I had for my baby, and seeing that my partner also felt that love. I was sexually abused by a parent and so when I was able to feel this amount of love for my baby, it naturally led me to think about my own parents and whether they felt this love too. And if they did, how on Earth could a parent feel that love but then go on to hurt me in such a devastating way years later when I was just a little girl? It brought back a lot of pain that I didn’t realise I had. It naturally makes you think back to your own childhood. I’ve found it quite shocking if I’m completely honest - to have first hand experience of the amount of love you can feel for your baby - and then to realise that there are some people out there who perhaps also felt that love at the beginning, but then go on to do horrible, horrible things to their children. It felt overwhelming.

I’ve also struggled with thoughts of wanting my own mum back in my life. I know it’s not possible, but not having her around to meet her grandchild has been difficult. I lost all of my family due to them standing by my abuser instead of me, and having a child of my own does bring back the pain that comes along with family estrangement. My partner has a lovely family, and so my child does have bonds with some of them, but it makes me feel sad that they will miss out on bonding with people from my side of the family. It also hurts when people say things to me like, “it takes a village to raise a child” and then go on to mention my family, assuming that I have a family that can help out, when actually I don’t. It does make my heart ache at times, but we have our own little family now, and that is what I focus on. I’m lucky to have my partner and our beautiful baby.

Another thing that has been brought up for me personally is the overwhelming fear I have that I will somehow turn in to the parent who abused me, and that I will therefore be a rubbish mum, or even, dare I say it, an abusive one. This is difficult for me to write about, because I fear that even the mention of it will mean that at some point someone is going to want to take my baby away from me. I panic about it. Despite knowing deep down that I am nothing like my abuser, I sometimes still get intrusive thoughts about how actually I *am* like them. It’s difficult to explain what it feels like. I know I’m a good mum, and will continue to be a good mum, but here’s an example of that raging inner voice again. The one that never quite goes away, and at times can scream so loudly you feel as though your ear drums are going to burst.

There will no doubt be further challenges in the future, as my child gets older. For example, when they reach the age that I was when I was sexually abused. I expect there will be painful memories brought to the surface at different times, but the love I have for our child (and future children) will see me through. 

Becoming a first time mum can be very scary and overwhelming, but it has also been the most amazing thing to happen to me. My life has been completely changed for the better, and so has my partner’s. We have our own beautiful family and the joy this brings me is something so special and unique, that I’m not sure I can find the words for it.

I don’t know if many people will read this blog post. I guess I just wanted to raise awareness of the issues that abuse survivors can face when deciding to try for a baby for the first time, during pregnancy itself, and also in the post natal period. And to show fellow survivors that they are not alone. It does not make you a bad mother if you struggle with some of the painful stuff that having a baby can bring back up to the surface. It makes you human. And there are plenty of us out there who can relate to what it feels like.

These are just my own experiences. There are plenty of other things that I’ve not had personal experience of, that abuse survivors can find difficult, depending on what happened to them as a child or adult. We are all different. Trauma can affect survivors in many different ways during pregnancy and beyond. 

Thanks for reading if you have.