Every daughter is a story waiting to be told. Every mother is a chapter already written. Welcome to the Mother Daughter Relationship Show, where we explore the most complex, beautiful, and sometimes challenging and painful bond between mothers and daughters. I'm your host, Brittany Scott, and each week we'll dive deep into these relationships. From navigating teenage years to building adult friendships. From healing generational wounds to celebrating shared triumphs. We're here to share, learn, and grow together. Join us as we talk with real mothers and daughters, expert therapists and coaches, and thought leaders who help us understand this unique connection that shape who we are. Whether you're a mother seeking to understand, a daughter looking for perspective, or someone who wants to strengthen this precious bond, this is your safe space. Welcome back to another episode of the podcast. It's Brittney here. Today, I want to share with you guys my pregnancy journey. I think motherhood starts the minute, that you are pregnant. And in fact, carrying a child, I don't think it starts at birth. A lot of the stories we see told around pregnancy starts at postpartum. I think we're great at sharing postpartum and what happened after birth or sharing birth stories. I don't think we do a great job at sharing pregnancy stories. I wanted to share mine. I believe it was March 2020. It may have been April. March or April 2020, I find out that I am pregnant. And I'm excited, shocked, not necessarily surprised because it wasn't a surprise, but I think the shock was that it happened as quickly as it did, but I was excited. A few weeks after I find out I'm pregnant, the world shuts down. I don't remember the exact timeline now, and I'm not gonna go look it up, but it was around March or April 2020. So finding out the world is shutting down, and I was already nervous because I'm seeing the stories of people are sick, this is happening, this is spreading, what is going on, what does this mean, and then the world shuts down, everyone is sent home, and we are told we will be home for two weeks. It did not last for two weeks, in fact, it lasted much longer than that. So I was scared to leave the house, I was nervous to really go anywhere, I was working part time for myself in private practice as a therapist and working part time for a non profit providing therapy services for the clients that sought them out in the community. And I was sent home from the non profit and told to switch all of my clients online. In a matter of a week, which I was prepared for because I had been doing it in my private practice, we figured it out, did what we had to do, and got through it. But while I'm doing this, I am very sick from being pregnant. I did not just have morning sickness. I had all day sickness. It wasn't just a one time thing. It wasn't even just feeling nauseous. It was vomiting multiple times a day. Barely able to keep anything down and feeling absolutely horrible. I'm sitting in a meeting on Zoom in my office. And I paused the meeting to go to the bathroom. And I see blood. I try not to freak out. I have to go back and finish this meeting. Afterwards, I call the doctor, tell them what's going on, and they schedule an appointment for me to come in the next day. That way they can do an ultrasound and see what is happening. Because of the state of the world, I had to enter that appointment alone. My husband wasn't even allowed to go into the office, he had to stay inside the car. They do the full ultrasound. And I get told that. It appears that there are two babies, or were two babies, but that I might actually be losing both of them, but they could confirm that I'm for sure losing one. In one appointment, alone, without my husband, I am told that I was possibly pregnant with twins. Losing one and might lose both. Go home, wait it out, see what happens. They're going to schedule an appointment for two weeks, and in two weeks they'll know. The state of both babies. I have to walk to the car and explain this to the husband who had to sit inside the car and couldn't be in the appointment to ask the doctors his own questions. that was such a weird experience to know that, oh, there were two babies but there's not going to be two babies and we're going to hope that there's going to be one baby. Within the two week wait time, I am still sick, but I think it's getting worse. Like now, I'm not only sick, but I'm also extremely sad. I'm not feeling good. Pregnancy does not feel joyful. And I start having thoughts of termination. Which was weird for me because this was something that I wanted, something that we planned together. And termination was not supposed to be on my mind, but it was more like an intrusive thought. It was not a thought that I felt like I was in control of, but I returned for the appointment two weeks later. There's only one baby sack there now when before there were two, but the baby in this one has grown and there is a heartbeat. So I get classified as a high risk pregnancy because they've now termed this Vanishing twin syndrome. I've heard people say, you ate your twin in the womb, So I guess it's one of those situations. But there were two babies and now one has completely vanished as if it was never there. And the one baby that survived is growing. I'm excited and happy that it's wasn't both of them. And I can't say I felt sad about losing one, but it was definitely weird. I think I would have rather have not known that it was vanishing twin syndrome than to know, but I don't know. It was just, it was weird. Not something I knew a lot about. I had a friend who was pregnant around the same time and she had HG, hyperemesis gravidarum. And I was telling her my symptoms and how I couldn't keep anything down. I was very sick. My doctor said that I just had to wait this out. It would get better. It wasn't. And she brought me some of her medicine. Probably dangerous. Shouldn't take medicine from other people. Anyway, it helped. I felt better. I could eat. A lot of the symptoms felt diminished. It didn't fully go away, but it felt like it made it manageable for me to get through the day. But she was still pregnant, needed her medication, could not give me all of it, of course. So I go back to the doctor, and I tell him that I'm still not feeling well, like this is, it feels overwhelming. And I explain about taking the medicine from the friend, I was honest. So he prescribes me medicine, and it helps. I, like I said, it feels better, it feels manageable, I am still sick daily. But I am not sick all day anymore. I can eat. Around 14 weeks, maybe 15 weeks, I am back for another appointment, and I need more medication. He says he will not prescribe me any more medication because I am not still sick. I am past the 12 week mark. It has gone away now, and what I'm experiencing is just heartburn, and I need to go and get something like Tums. I was very upset because I felt completely dismissed and not heard. I was not experiencing heartburn. I was still vomiting every single day. He just didn't want to hear it. Within three days of running out of medicine, I was at the hospital for dehydration. I was very lightheaded, could barely stand up without the room spinning. And needed support just to stand up. So my husband takes me to the hospital. They say I'm dehydrated. They give me fluids, send me home. At that point, I decided I didn't want to see that doctor anymore. And I went on a search for a doctor that would take me. This late in the game. I'm about maybe 16 weeks, 15, 16 weeks. And it was a bit difficult. I was running into doctors who either they just didn't have the space, didn't take my insurance. Or didn't want me, because I was close to halfway through the pregnancy, and they did not want to start my care at that point. But I finally find one, he says yes, and schedules an appointment immediately. He said as soon as his office had the files, they wanted to see me the next day, and that's pretty much how fast it went. I explained to him how sick I was, how I was feeling, how I've gained about maybe five pounds at this point. I'm not really eating anything. And he prescribes medicine, doesn't work, prescribes another one, doesn't work. And then we try the last thing and it works. I feel like I'm, at this point, because we've tried multiple ones, I think I'm like 25 weeks, and I'm feeling better. Instead of throwing up daily, I think I'm now throwing up maybe 3 or 4 times a week. So again, it never fully goes away. I never get to the point where there's no more morning sickness. It lasted throughout the entire pregnancy. But he helped me find a medication that worked. This one had to come from a specific pharmacy in the city. It was this gel that I rubbed on my wrist. I cannot remember right now exactly what was the medicine inside of it. But I had these little tubes that he sent me home with. I would squeeze out some of the gel and rub it right on my wrist, on the inside of my wrist. And within about 10 minutes, I could feel the effects and I felt better. And so I was told to just use that whenever I needed it and to just rub like a dime sized amount on the inside of both my wrist. And the medicine would take effect within about 10, 15 minutes. And it did. It worked. I carried those tubes everywhere. I had one at my desk inside my office at home. I had one in my purse. I kept one in the car I had those tubes everywhere, but I, during this time of being this sick, not being able to keep food down. I did not realize that the intrusive thoughts I was having and the sadness that I was feeling was depression. I, even as a therapist, I completely missed it in myself. I didn't know that I was experiencing depression while pregnant. I think there's a better term for that, perinatal depression. That might not be correct either. But either way, it wasn't postpartum depression that people talk about. I was experiencing depression while I was pregnant. It was rough. I hated every single day of being pregnant. I don't think I enjoyed one day of it. Maybe the day I took photos. Maybe that was the only day that I actually liked it because I got to wear three pretty dresses. The photographer was amazing. And it was fun to just be dolled up it was a great day, but I hated every other day of being pregnant. I did not find joy in it. I felt like there was just this dark cloud over me. It didn't feel happy. I think maybe there were some exciting moments when I was buying things, or planning things, or just finding baby clothes. Outside of those few moments I hated every single day of it. I didn't want to be pregnant. I wanted that baby out of me. I wanted the entire situation to end and I wanted to feel like myself again. I didn't even know who I was. I ended up starting therapy, it was towards the end of my pregnancy, maybe around like 30 weeks, but I didn't even tell her how I was feeling. I did not tell her that my pregnancy was awful. I did not share with her this dark cloud. The intrusive thoughts of termination, how I wanted my pregnancy to be over, I wanted it to end. I did not share any of that with her and looking back, I have no idea why. I wish that I did because I could have received more support or more guidance on how to manage this or what to do, but I'm going to therapy sessions talking about other things, not sharing at all with her, how I'm really feeling. I was a bad client. I could have gotten more from her than I did, but I didn't because I didn't share. I also think I just didn't know to share, looking back, I didn't know while I was experiencing it that I was experiencing depression. But I could have told her that I was having intrusive thoughts. I knew that was happening. I could have told her that I just want to lay in bed and I could care less about doing anything else. I could have shared with her that I got up, brushed my teeth, threw on a pretty top, sat down for a therapy session, got back in bed, waited for the next therapy session, got up, made sure my shirt wasn't all wrinkled, maybe I took it off and put on a pajama shirt to get back in bed. Then I got up for the next therapy session that I was conducting I was still a therapist at this time, and I completed the therapy session, I got back in bed, and I did this daily, so I was, only time I was getting out of bed was if I was going to attempt to eat, which sometimes I would just bring the plate to the bed, or I was conducting a therapy session, I was holding everything together to show up for my clients, while everything else felt like it was just drowning around me. One night, I am 34 weeks. And I am getting ready for bed. I'm brushing teeth, washing face, changing into pajamas. And okay, let me back up for a second. So let me set the scene for how this plays out. When I was throwing up at any point during the pregnancy, it was very much forceful and projectile. I won't go into any other details, but my husband would come in, bring a towel, help me clean myself up or clean up around the toilet if everything didn't really make it in there again, forceful, projectile, it wasn't a pretty sight. So I, back to 34 weeks, it's about 10 p. m. at night. Getting ready to get in the bed and I go to sit down on the bed and I feel a pop and then Warm, I think I probably heard the pop too, but mostly felt it And then it's just warm between my legs. And so I yell for my husband. I yell his name because he wasn't in the room. And the entire pregnancy, I would yell his name when I knew I needed to throw up because I knew I needed a towel. He would bring in a warm, wet towel, help me clean up, that way I didn't have to do it. And then bring me water so I could get back in bed. So I yell his name. And he was like, I'm in the laundry room, but I'm coming. Just go do what you need to do. I'll be in there to help you. And so I'm like, no, I'm not sick. I need you to come right now. So he comes and I said, I think my water just broke. So how do you know? I said, I don't, but I felt the pop and now it's all warm and wet. And so he helps me stand up, and I'm walking to the bathroom, and as I'm walking, it's just leaking. And I was like, oh yeah, I think you should call the doctor. So he calls my doctor. And the on call people answer, he tells them what's going on, they said okay, give us a second, we're gonna get the doctor up and he will call you so that way you guys know what to do. The doctor calls about 20 minutes later, tells me to go to the hospital immediately because I'm only 34 weeks. So in my mind, I'm like, okay, here we go again. This pregnancy I already hate. This sickness that won't go away. This dark cloud. I feel sad. I don't enjoy this. Life sucks. It has sucked for the last, however many months, 34 weeks is and I'm like, and now this, is there anything that I get to have in this pregnancy? That is normal. I think there are people who are pregnant that are excited to meet their baby. I was excited to get this over with. I wanted it done. I wanted this baby out of me. I did not want to be pregnant anymore. It wasn't. My thoughts were more, I'm ready for this to be over. I want this to end. On the way to the hospital, I had my husband stop to get me food because I had a feeling they weren't going to let me eat. We went in with food and I'm eating. The nurse says that she needs to check because a lot of people mistake water breaking when it actually hasn't broken. She checks and. She's Oh, yes, water's broken. They checked me in and the doctor asked them to give me magnesium. I could be wrong about magnesium. I think it was magnesium. But he had them give me something to stop contractions and to basically stop labor. So it didn't progress, and that way I could get two steroid shots to help with my daughter's lungs, because they said at 34 weeks they're not fully developed, they want to make sure these steroid shots help. To develop her lungs, that way she doesn't struggle when she's born. But they want to keep her in as long as possible, but at least, at minimum, 48 hours. So they're giving me the medicine via IV, and it doesn't work. My contractions are starting, they're progressing naturally. They try one more bag of, I think, magnesium. Whatever it was, they try one more bag. My contractions are still very much progressing. Nothing is slowing down, nothing is stopping. What they have tried has failed miserably. The doctor finally comes in. And he's upset that they gave me two bags of whatever it was to stop my labor. But he's okay. We're having a baby. I am trying to not get the epidural. I really wanted to birth without it. This is not a shaming thing, this is not a I'm better than someone who got an epidural thing. This is just something that I wanted. Please do not hear shame in this part of my story. I just didn't want it. I was afraid of putting a needle in my back. That's all it was. So I'm making every attempt to not get an epidural. But I'm getting to the point where I cannot manage this anymore. The pain is becoming unbearable. I can't sleep. I also can't stand up because what they gave me was muscle relaxers so they wouldn't let me out of the bed. That way I can maybe bounce on the ball or walk up and down the hall. They said I risked falling because they gave me a muscle relaxer and they didn't trust my legs to hold me up anymore. I was very upset. They did not want me to move at all. They just wanted me to lay down on my back, which was making the contractions hurt even worse. I think I would have done better if they let me get up. So I asked for an epidural because I just I can't do this anymore. And they said they have to prep me for it and then they'll get the anesthesiologist in. Maybe an hour after I've requested it. Anesthesiologist still has not shown up. Doctor shows up, gets permission to check to see how far along I am. I give it to him because I need to know what's going on because I'm miserable. I've only had IV pain meds. They gave me Dilaudid through the IV. It helped, but it wasn't helping enough at that point. And I couldn't have any more of that. He checks me. I am 8 centimeters dilated. And that kind of rejuvenated me. I'm like, I'm eight, I don't need the epidural. I can do this. They brought me this like pole thing I could hang onto to help me get up out of the bed. It helped me to get to my knees and that helped make things a bit better. Long story short, Amalah was born at 10 a. m. The very next day, 12 hours later. And immediately, as soon as she was out of my body. And the placenta was out of my body. It was as if the storm was over. The storm clouds had cleared out and the sun was shining. When I tell you my body and my brain and like mentally, physically, everything had just switched over almost instantly. I was amazed. I knew in that moment that everything I had experienced during the pregnancy was Depression. It was not normal by any means. I was actually struggling. I should have gotten myself more help, but I knew in that moment when I felt like myself again, almost instantly that what I was feeling before was depression, that was when the light bulb went off for me. That was when I understood. How dark, like it was, how I realized how much I was struggling because I don't know, I wish I had better words. It was just like the sun was shining. I don't know, but I was happy. I was excited. I'm ready to meet her. I just want this baby in my arms. It was like those happy thoughts, those excited thoughts about becoming a mom and having a baby and being able to hold this baby, all of that. It just came immediately. It was like it came flooding in. Truly, it was like, oh my gosh, the rain stopped. Oh, the clouds are clearing out. Oh, the sun is shining. This storm is gone. That is how it felt. And that was the moment I knew that I had experienced depression. And I wish I had known it sooner. I wanted to share this story with you. Because I want more women to hear honest stories about pregnancies that aren't joyful, about depression while pregnant, that Not everything happens postpartum. My postpartum period was amazing. My birth story, although she had to go to the NICU, was born six weeks early. The actual part of giving birth was so easy. Everything went by so fast. You can struggle while pregnant and it's not a reflection of you. It's not a reflection of How you feel about your baby, it's not that you did anything wrong. I think we amplify the stories of how pregnancy is so beautiful and joyful and amazing, and our bodies are so cool that it's growing in this human and all of these great stories, and we don't share enough of the stories of how awful pregna pregnancy can be for some of us. I remember because of 2020, I was chronically online. I had not put any kind of boundaries up about social media and we were stuck at home. Everybody was at home. Everyone was online and I am following other women who are pregnant and I'm looking at the videos they're putting up and the posts they're sharing and their excitement. And I remember I had started talking to one girl and I had told her that I was waiting for the joy that people say come with pregnancy. I can't find it. This is miserable. And the next day or maybe the next two days, she puts up a post and in the caption, it says If you're struggling to find the joy in pregnancy, maybe you need to change your mindset. Sure, there are some things in pregnancy that aren't fun, but being pregnant is not miserable, and if you find this time miserable, your mindset is in the wrong place. Guys, I was livid. I was so upset. Just how I felt dismissed by my doctor, it felt like being dismissed by another Black woman. She wasn't my friend, she didn't owe me anything, we didn't really know each other. But I was vulnerable and maybe I shouldn't have been with her. I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have expressed myself in that way with her. But I did. And then she turns around in the next day or two and makes that post and like it just felt so dismissive. And looking back, I was already sad and depressed. So that just made it even worse and made me so angry. I want stories like this shared so that someone else who experiences this part of pregnancy doesn't feel as alone as I did, doesn't feel as crazy as I did, and doesn't feel like they're doing anything wrong. Sometimes pregnancy is not joyful. Sometimes it's not a beautiful experience. Sometimes it's depression and sadness and misery. Sometimes it's Being sicker than others have ever experienced, so they don't get it, sometimes it's not fun. It's you waiting for the time to end and just hoping for the best experience at the end. If you relate to my story in any way, know that I see you and support you and complaining every day about pregnancy and discussing how it's not beautiful and joyful for you. And being honest about how you feel, I will share your story and I will support you. And not enjoying a single minute of your pregnancy. If this wasn't your experience, thank you for listening to hear another side of this. And maybe you can share this with someone who might be experiencing this or are telling you ways that they're not enjoying this time of their life or ways that they might be struggling. I want women to know that Getting support while pregnant is something they should do if they need it and by support therapy, getting support for depression. Or maybe it's not depression you're feeling, but maybe heightened anxiety while pregnant, whatever is going on. If you're not enjoying it and you need support, I want you to know it's nothing you've done wrong. Sometimes pregnancy is just not joyful.