My story Part 9 .

  I stupidly thought being pregnant with child No3 would be easy just like the other two were but I was wrong big time.......

 I had started to become extremely and unusually for me depressed about the smallest slightest little silliest thing . I clearly remember thinking one day whilst I was sat there in my own that maybe I should just take a nice little stroll up the road to where the motorway bridge was and nobody would notice I'd actually gone or even miss me but I thankfully managed to talk myself out of it ,  still scares the S$#t out of me when I think about it now ( plus I'm not a great fan of heights so I proberly wouldnt have had the nerve to jump anyway ) . 

I can honestly say it was not my best pregnancy , the baby may of been fine but I certainly wasn't . My mind was most deffinatly not my own at this particular time and some of the thoughts I was having were certainly not your normal healthy ones . 

Even the regular scan that every mother to be has at sometime in their pregnancy to check how everything was doing didn't go down that well either , for some strange random reason or other he wasn't speaking to me yet again that day so we left home in total silence and he kept that silence going all the way through it ( God knows what the poor midwife must of thought about it ) , he didn't ask any questions or make any comments but just sat there with a face like a dogs bum watching everything going on and  then it just carried on that way for the rest of the day . Thankfully everything was fine with the baby and no of course I didn't mention having my unusual crazy dark down days to anyone , I just simply kept it all to myself just like I always did . 

This time round I felt the entire pregnancy just slowly dragged by and I had none of the normal nesting instincts that mums to be normally get. How much of what I was feeling at the time was just me being pregnant , his soul destroying emotional abuse or just a combination of recent events I don't know but what I did know was just how much I hated every single minute of it and I promised myself I'd never let myself feel that weird depressive way ever again if I could possibly help it . 

  Baby No3 was born all safe and sound , I was now being supermum dealing with doing school runs , book reading , school homework , looking after the house and trying really hard not to have one of those dark days whilst looking after two young children and a new born baby .

 Surprise , surprise......  he didn't like the fact that I was now giving the children more attention than I was giving him so the big sulks started up again worse than ever and I was now told I was not only Fat , useless and ugly but I was seriously f#£%ing lazy as well .

 Trying to tell a major control abusive freak that he might have to wait a couple weeks after someone gives birth before he could have sex again didn't go down that well at all but he did at least give me a little break from it for a while so I could manage to get some sleep when the baby slept at night . I was still having the random odd down days but I think I was kept too busy to let it really get to me that much and even when I did feel a bit bad there was no point in telling him because he'd only laugh and tell me I had " serious issues " . 

 It was roughly around this time I began to notice that Child No2 could possibly be Dyslexic/discalcular so I had a few words with their school and got all the appropriate tests done and of course my maternal instincts were proved to be right , the ex however knew better of course and decided that it wasn't that at all but just a simple case of them being a bit slow and stupid just like their mother was  (which he kindly let us all know on more than one occasion ) . Such a lovely thing to be told by your own father but that was just the very begining of things directed at the children .

  As you can probly tell he was now becoming even  worse with the spiteful comments , sulks , temper trantrums , controlling and general all round nastyness .  Random objects would now get thrown on the floor as part of his mighty hissy fits because I obviously wasn't understanding correctly whatever it was he was trying to tell me ( basically I wasn't doing as I was told yet again ) and the more frustrated he got the louder he became . The children heard and saw almost everything and would either make an excuse to go to another room or would just sit there quietly pretending they couldn't see or hear anything but I always knew they could . How much they remember of it I will never know but what I do know is they now have their own unique individual versions of PTSD because of it . I count myself incredibly lucky all 3 seem to take after me more than their father and none of them appear to have that need to control the world genetic thing in them .

This chapter of the abuse was the toughest and darkest  , the thoughts in my head weren't my own normal logical ones and every single day was like walking on serious very scarey thinnest of ice . The cracks in the ice were getting even bigger by the day and the thoughts in my head weren't that much  better either .