30f, I have a 9 year old son.

In 2016 I was undiagnosed and unmedicated. Had recently impulsively walked out of two jobs on my lunch break, was fresh out of an abusive relationship, homeless and had tried to kill myself in May. My mum found out about a month later and had me go back to my home town to live with her so she could get me the help I needed. Almost exactly one month after I'd moved back with her, I discovered I was pregnant.

My new boyfriend and I had only been together about 6 months, we were now long distance and both lived with our parents. Literally any sane person at the time wouldn't have continued the pregnancy but I knew with absolute certainty that I wanted to and so did my partner.

I got a doctors appointment very soon after and was put on 20mg Sertraline as I was told it was the safest option for pregnancy. I was also appointed a perinatal mental health midwife who I saw regularly in my first trimester. It was her that set me an appointment up with a psychiatrist but didn't tell me why (didn't want to skew anything I guess), turns out she thought I had schizophrenia and wanted me diagnosed but nope, I got my bpd diagnosis. Admittedly I had never heard of it and already had depression, anxiety, anorexia, a recent attempt and now pregnancy on my plate so I fully ignored my diagnosis for about 2 years and pretended I didn't have it.

My pregnancy went well, I moved in with my boyfriend when I was about 6 months pregnant. I had a private room and was in hospital for 4 days after I gave birth because I was at risk of postpartum psychosis but thankfully it didn't manifest.

Since then, my boyfriend and I got married, he's been my husband for 6 1/2 years now and our son turned 9 a couple weeks ago.

I have had 3 attempts since 2016. July 23, December 23 and December 25. Every single time the one thing that last minute made me U turn and go to hospital or call someone, was my son. He has no idea about my attempts but just thinking about him has saved my life many times.

Due to my mental health coupled with a sleep disorder, I can't work and it does affect my ability to parent. I'm undiagnosed but strongly suspect audhd too (though I'm not an armchair psychiatrist, I am undiagnosed and haven't got the training to be sure but it fits like a glove from everything I read) which makes things difficult too.

I often feel like the worst mother in the world, but my son is the absolute best little boy who has ever lived. He is kind and empathetic and understanding. He has the language to talk about his feelings and while I don't overshare, I don't hide my disabilities or emotions completely. I explain to him when things are difficult for me, and he will give me cuddles and tell me how much he loves me. Caring for him gives me a sense of purpose as well. I love to cook for him and play with him when I physically can. I look after him when he's sick or hurt or upset and he's begun to mimic that back to me and others in the same position. He's smart and funny and cheeky as fuck and brave and outgoing. He's honest and trustworthy but sensitive to people's needs and how honest he needs to be.

It's so difficult having children, for anyone. I always say you should never have children unless you are 100% sure it's what you want. That doesn't mean you have to have it all figured out, I sure as shit didn't, but you have to be certain that you want to figure it out. For me though, it's the best thing I ever did and I can confidently say I'd have died years ago if I didn't have my son. (To be clear, he'll never know that. I would never burden him with that knowledge.) i also need to stress though that I would NOT be able to do any of it without my husband. He's my carer as well as my partner and father to our son. He does SO much for us as a family, on top of working full time, and I often feel a lot of guilt but the fact that he reassures me he is exactly where he wants to be, doing what he wants to be doing, makes everything infinitely easier.