A Promise

Two and half years ago, I made a promise to God.

A promise that I have not been keeping all that well - not at all really. I am ashamed.

As many people know, after my youngest angel was born, something happened. Lots of things happened really, but something different.

I noticed it a bit after my oldest son was born, but dismissed it as baby blue. It was a bit worse after my second son was born, but it passed quickly.

After the baby was born, I felt ecstatic. A feeling that I hadn't felt in 9 months. I had what I thought, was mild depression during my pregnancy with little O. I went along with it and dealt with it though. I had to take enough medication - I wasn't about to add an antidepressant to the mix.

I went into labor 3.5 week early with him. I was totally unprepared and not at all expecting it. Thankfully, I am a planner and had most of mine/his bags packed. I'd had preterm labor with my middle son that was stopped, so I had the possibility in the back of my mind.

I contracted/labored for 15 hours before he was born, via c-section. I had to wait, as I wasn't an emergency, and that was fine. I understood. With our first son, I was the emergency who bumped several other laboring woman. I was grateful to be the non emergent patient!

That all being said, I was exhausted from lack of sleep - a contributing factor to my problem with my fist son, I believe. I labored for 42 hours with him before he had to be taken c-section....it was a long and exhausting process.

I think, looking back, that a lot of factors contributed to my problem. I think exhaustion will do horrible things to your mind, as well as hormones, and any type of anesthesia. I don't react well to anesthesia - of any kind. I feel panicky and nervous after I get Novocain! It bothers me for several days afterward. I'm a bit odd I guess - that or I'm a freak...either way!

Anyway...I digress. I promised God that I would help other women.... Women who were facing what I was facing. Thankfully, I had a support system that was unbelievable. My family and friends rallied around me. I had my faith. I had things that some women don't have access to. I am convinced that no one should go through what I went through alone.

I looked for support groups in my area and found none...how can that be! I found an online resource that was a great help to me - praise God for those ladies. Other than that, I found little outside help. I had an awesome therapist and a concerned doctor...all of which helped tremendously as well.

I still want to help women...women who are going through these times need help. It is a very real issue...and a horrible, scary one at that....I'll provide a little background...

As I mentioned, I was ecstatic after the baby was born. I felt elated really....it was an odd feeling. I hadn't felt truly happy in 9 months... My mom said she knew, right then, something wasn't right.

The next day, I knew it was coming. It happened with the other two boys too. I had that flood of emotion. The crying would start...I thought that was it. I was so very wrong.

I had visitors, people who came to bring gifts, see our baby and congratulate us...I spent the time vomiting and basically freaking out. One of my sweet doctors, who is a believer, sat on the bed next to me. He hugged me, prayed for me, and wrote me an order for Ativan! Such a nice man!!
I didn't sleep that night...this would be a pattern that would follow. I would struggle to fall asleep, sleep fitfully, and then wake very early in the morning, unable to fall back to sleep.

I kept telling them if they would just let me go home, I'd feel better. I was sure of it. They weren't going to let me go home because my blood pressure had skyrocketed and the babies billirubin levels were on the rise - not uncommon for a pre term baby. My heart rate shot up and wouldn't come down...I begged, pleaded and faked calm. They released me....I went home convinced that I was fine and would calm down...I didn't.

That all being said, after several days, prescriptions and such..things seemed to calm down. About a week later, it hit me again...like a Mac truck.....

I couldn't focus or sleep. I'd cry for hours at a time. I'd have panic attack after panic attack. They wouldn't stop. Then the obsessive and fearful thoughts came. Some thoughts were so dark and horrible, I'll never repeat them to anyone.

I started thinking I was going to kill myself. I didn't want to...I just thought I was going too. Doesn't make sense...I know - nothing did. I started having compulsions to put my hands on the stove while cooking and stab myself with scissors.... All these things would send me into a spiral of panic, uncontrolled thoughts, and crying. It was a horrible viscous cycle.

I refused to be alone with the kids. I would bathe them and think I was going to drown them. I wouldn't shower while I was home alone for fear that I would slit my wrists....it was a sick and scary time. I hid things from myself...all odd things...I hid knives, scissors and medication. I'd lay my kids clothes out at night and tell them I loved them...each time thinking it would be the last time I'd say that to them.....

I'd have myself so nerved up, I'd throw up every morning at the thought of facing another day of hell. My family stood right by me...never wavering. They'd pray, talk and cry with me. They sat with the kids while I walked and cried.

I'd lay prostrate on the floor, begging God to take this from me. I also felt like it was something I was going to have to go through. A dark water I was going to have to wade through....

The diagnosis was Post Partum OCD with panic disorder and depression. A triple whammy the psychiatrist told me. Only a small portion of woman will face post partum depression, even fewer will have panic disorder and of the small portion, less than 3% will develop the OCD part of it.... He assured me that I would in fact establish normalcy and that my faith and family were going to be the main components to get me through - that and a strong anti depressant! He encouraged me to NOT take the "sedative" medication unless I just couldn't get control...I'd already stopped taking them because of how they made me feel....

All that being said....it was hell and it was very real. I know many people think you can just snap out of those moments. I was told on more than one occasion to "get a grip". At that point, I had nothing to hold on to....

I wanted only to talk to people who had been there. People who knew what it was like to feel like you were going crazy...that you had no grip on reality. That at any moment your world would fall apart right before you eyes. There were many moments that I thought being hospitalized would be the right thing to do...but I feared they'd take my kids from me....thankfully, I was never left alone. My husband, the saint, took weeks off work to help me. He arranged someone to be with me all the time. He woke up, for 7 weeks straight, and did the babies night feedings. The doctor advised that I not be woken up in the middle of the night...as a tired mind had to fight even harder. I don't know how Matt did it, but he did.

I often feel cheated out of the first 3.5 months of O's life. He was my last baby...I was hoping to soak it all in...enjoy it all. That was not to be the case, and that's ok. I wouldn't change what I went through for anything. I know it sounds crazy - but it changed me. It changed the essence of who I am and what I am. It taught me things that I'll never forget...I wouldn't want to go back to how it was...even if I could.

My heart still breaks at the thought of what my two older boys must have felt at times. Thankfully, my family and I did our best to shelter them from it. Children are also extremely resilient...praise God!
That all being said...I want to help others who need help - not with just post partum issues, but panic/anxiety issues period. I promised God....He doesn't appreciate broken promises.