“DON’T COME IN HERE!” I screamed at my husband through the closed bathroom door. I stared in despair at the disasterous scene before me.

My heart was racing. I felt breathless with the tiniest amount of exertion. I felt intense anxiety for, what I felt like, no good reason. I felt like I was having panic attacks – ALL the time.

After seeing the dietician, I became extremely interested – or rather, obsessed – in learning about vitamin supplementation in pregnancy.

“How are you feeling?” she asked in genuine concern. “Depleted,” I said flatly, “like death warmed up.”

“I can’t do this,” I would moan to my husband, “this is going to kill me. I won’t survive.”

My hands were shaking so violently that I almost spilled my ginger beer as I waited for the train. I was convinced it was all going to kill me.

“I’m only doing this for closure,” I’d staunchly say to myself, as if articulating the words out loud would convince my little fragile, hopeful heart.

Life or death – that is EXACTLY how I viewed it. I wanted to be taken seriously; this “casual” approach was making me furious.

I’d had many episodes over the last few years where I felt “depressed”, but nothing quite like this. In fact, I wasn’t even sure I felt sad – I just felt unbelievably tired.

“Break?” he scoffed, “You don’t have time for a break! I know you feel exhausted and depleted now, but you’re not going to feel any better in a few months.”

I got out of the shower and sat, exhausted, on the couch. I felt like I was losing my mind. I really didn’t know if Jarod was ever going to come home.

How do I describe a feeling so complex, that the layers themselves are blurry in my own mind? How do I convey the depth of pain that permeates the soul when all hope is lost?

I’d chosen to take a break – a long one – and it was gut wrenching to know that I was CHOOSING to prolong my pain, my suffering and the length of the unknown.

But, instead, we are trying NATURALLY. The best way really. I know I should be thrilled. So…..here I go again….on that horrible rollercoaster ride.

In those powerful moments of awe, wonder and mindfulness you find that, in that brief moment, your pain and sadness actually disappears.

My unpredictable fluctuating moods left me questioning my sanity. I did not know who I was anymore. But what I did know is that I RESPECTED the POWER OF HORMONES.

What are we trying to prove? Why do we think we are weak? Why can’t we go through each phase with gentle acceptance and respond positively to our body’s needs?

A roller coaster of emotions would whisk me away, sending me through shock, sorrow and then acceptance……all within a space of 15 minutes.