What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
But it very nearly killed me.

I'm 37weeks pregnant and it's been an emotional rollercoaster of a 9months. I don't know what's upset me this time but it's likely to be either money or him staying out with the boys drinking until 6am. Who am I kidding? It's both. He's spent our rent getting drunk, again.

I lie there with him passed out next to me wondering if this is what my life will be. Hoping with all my heart that things will change once the baby comes. Oh how naive I was. Nothing changes. Not even after our second baby.

I'm not sure what I expected.

I'm 38 weeks pregnant and nesting has kicked in. I'm on all fours with my watermelon belly hanging below me scrubbing the grout on our bathroom floor - am I even supposed to be inhaling these products? He comes in to wash his hands, not saying a word. And without a second glance he walks over me, like a maid who oughtn't be acknowledged.

I'm 39 weeks pregnant and we're fighting, again. This time I've had enough. I pack his bags and put them at the door. "LEAVE", I shout. But he doesn't. I can't stand this anymore but I can't kill myself. No, I am carrying another life inside me. So I do the only other thing I can to feel in control, to direct the pain. I run the blade haphazardly across my thighs. Not thinking in under a week's time I'd be lying completely naked to a room full of doctors and nurses who will see it all.

She's here and I'm numb from the chest down; emergency cesarean. It's 8pm and I haven't eaten since 10am. He holds her and it's like I don't exist. Thank god for my family and the nurses - visiting time is over but they've brought food. It's 12am and I felt her do her first meconium poo but I'm too afraid to wake him; I know he'll get mad cuz "he's so tired". Luckily the nurses visit an hour later but make me out to be the bad, unwitting first time mum. "She's done her first poo, did you not notice?", I did but I shake my head sheepishly.

Little did I know this would be how I live my life for the next 5 years and through two kids. Walking on eggshells daily, not knowing when I'd step on a landmine. And if I do, it is always entirely MY fault.