I decided to share my story because I want you to know you are not alone.
I was 26. I had just given birth to my first born, a boy. He was a baby who had been prayed for and yearned for, and waited for through the heartache and tears of two miscarriages. It should have been the happiest time in my life. I remember the first vivid intrusive thought. It was my first week home alone with him. I was cooking. He was laying in his infant seat in the kitchen. I had a flash of accidentally dropping my knife and hurting him. Immediately, the thought morphed into my stabbing him on purpose. Panic rushed in. I was hot and shaky. Terrified. I cried out to God to protect my son from me.