My confession: please don't bash, I already hate myself because of this...**LONG**
About 3 years ago, my mom and I had a HUGE fight because I wouldn't give her money (long story as to why). She told me she hated me, that I should kill myself since she was stupid and didn't abort me and that I was a horrible mom and my daughter would be better off if I was dead and out of her life. I was already having a hard time with my suicidal thoughts since my psychiatrist was out of the country and I was out of my depression meds and had no refills and pharmacy wouldn't refill it without a prescription and his office wouldn't fill it without me seeing him first (I was a new patient at the time). So, when my husband came home I told him about the fight with my mom. I told him I needed to go for a walk to clear my head. I went to the bathroom to "pee" and I took a cocktail of meds and went for mywalk. I made it about a mile from home and I started violently throwing up. I made it to my designation and laid down hoping that I would never wake up, but just ended up throwing up more. A few hours passed and I knew it was a failed attempt. So, I walked home, pissed at myself for once again being a failure. Two days later my friend came over with a surprise, she thought she was pregnant. She came over with a brown bag with a 2 pack of pregnancy tests. She took one and it was +. She was so excited since she and her hubby was having a hard time getting pregnant. She told me to take one to make sure the test was accurate and I told her to take it again. She insisted on me taking it. So, to humor her, I did. It immediately said pregnant. I said mine must be wrong since I just had my period (which turned out to be implantation bleeding). So, later I told my husband that I was feeling weird and wantedto take a pregnancy test. So, we went and got one. It once again said pregnant almost immediately. I was devastated, because of trying to kill myself by overdosing. Plus, I was still upset about what my mom said and still had plans to "carry out" and being pregnant ruined those plans. When I went in for my first ultrasound, the baby had a heartbeat. Then, when I went in for the more detailed ultrasound, the baby, my son, had a bunch of problems. Heart defects, no stomach bubble and other stuff, which I don't want to get into because it will reveal my identity. When he was born, full term, he weighed less than 5 lbs (once again being vague for my identity protection) and never made it home from the nicu or into the care of hospice. No one knows about my suicidal attempt. I HATE myself and blame myself, because once I saw his little heartbeat for the first time and was given my due date I became excited. I feel like I caused my sons death.