For about a week every month I became somebody I barely recognised. Irritable, hopeless, convinced my relationship was wrong, then my period came and the fog lifted. I had spent years thinking I was just dramatic. Tracking the pattern and speaking to both my counsellor and doctor changed everything.

The birth was medically labelled uncomplicated, so I felt ridiculous saying I was traumatised by it. I had felt trapped, unheard and scared. Once somebody took that seriously I could finally stop arguing with myself about whether I was allowed to be affected.

We had wanted this baby for a long time, so I assumed being pregnant would feel like this beautiful, grateful nine months. Instead I was nauseous for weeks, hated people commenting on my body, hated not feeling like myself, and felt guilty every time I admitted I was not enjoying it. I remember crying in the bathroom after someone told me to ‘cherish every moment’ because all I wanted was for the pregnancy part to be over and the baby to be here. I loved her already. I just did not love being pregnant. Having a counsellor tell me those two things could both be true was such a relief. Once I stopped wasting energy proving to myself that I was grateful enough, I could actually focus on coping with the pregnancy I was having instead of the one I thought I was supposed to have.

IVF turned my life into dates, appointments and waiting for phone calls. Everyone kept saying ‘stay positive’ which somehow made it worse. Counselling was the one place I did not have to perform optimism.

Menopause was not the end of anything for me. It actually started a much bigger conversation about what I wanted the next twenty years to look like.

After the miscarriage I really did not want to talk to anybody who was going to tell me everything happens for a reason. My practitioner thankfully did not do that. Some sessions I spoke about the baby and some I did not. I appreciated that I could just arrive wherever I was that week.

I realised I had become the project manager for everyone's life and then felt guilty for being angry about it.

Perimenopause absolutely flattened my confidence. I was forgetting things, sleeping badly and suddenly doubting myself at work after years of being very competent. I needed both medical input and somewhere to unpack how much the change had messed with my sense of who I was.

I loved my baby. I was also completely terrified that something would happen to her and I barely slept even when she slept. I kept telling myself I could not have postpartum anxiety because I was functioning. I could. Getting help made early motherhood feel possible again.