Before I go into everything that happened, I feel the need to spell out how normal of a person I am. I was always a good student in school and never got in trouble. I got good grades and exceled in music. I took piano from five years old and transitioned to trumpet in middle school. My real love was marching band and I was section leader from sophomore year on in high school and even went on to be in the Michigan State Marching band - where I met your father. I can sincerely say I've never done an illegal drug and I haven't even smoked a cigarette just because I find it gross. I never drank in high school and very rarely in college. I have both a bachelors and masters degree in accounting, the most difficult business degree to earn. I had two successful internships in college and went on to be a good employee and through various job movements and promotions, doubled my salary in five year's time after graduating from college. I married my college sweetheart and have only loved one other person before him. I prided myself in having it all together and looked down at other people who struggled. Then, things happened...
Natalie, I can't tell a lie. I had a hard time bonding with you and becoming a parent in general. I wanted my free time and sleep back. In my defense, you were a terrible sleeper. I missed being able to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to. I felt emotionally distant from you and sometimes felt you were a burden-keep reading. After you were born, I started having problems sleeping and relaxing in general, especially when your daddy was gone for the night. Me, the girl who hardly drank at one of the biggest party schools, turned to a glass of wine, or two or occasionally a whole bottle after you were asleep to help me sleep and calm my nerves. This was not normal behavior at all, but I chalked it up to what happens after you have kids.
I continued with this behavior until we started trying for a second child. All of a sudden, the anxiety worsened greatly, I had problems focusing at work and I had my first full blown panic attack. I hope none of you kids ever experience the helplessness of a panic attack-they are the scariest thing I ever have experienced. I sincerely felt I was going to die. You name it, heart palpitations, racing thoughts, muscle tremors, the whole nine yards. The scariest part was not knowing what was going on with me, the feeling of being completely out of control. I like being in control.
The next thing I knew, I was pregnant, but instead of feeling joy, I started having flashbacks of the day I was told I was going to lose you, Natalie and the ultrasound with no heartbeat. Of the week I spent in limbo not knowing if you were going to make it and waiting for a dead fetus to fall out of me. That's really graphic, but that's what was going through my head. I was in a state of complete terror all the time with no relief. I had so much adrenaline running through my system I lost twenty five pounds in two weeks and was awake for three days straight. I went to go see my obstetrician, and she was completely lost as to what to do. She prescribed me some sleeping pills but they did absolutely nothing. I did all the natural "stuff" they tell you to do to calm your nerves and make you sleepy. I avoided caffeine and ran on a treadmill, but I had so much adrenaline coursing through my veins I could've ran forever. Nighttime started to make me anxious because I knew I would probably be up all night, alone with my thoughts. I worried about the baby growing inside me and I began to blame myself for what was happening to me and asking "why?". I remember sitting out on our patio at 3am talking to God for the first time possibly ever and asking Him to make it stop and why He picked me to go through this. As I was thinking about this, my mind thought about someone else I know who has had issues with flashbacks and insomnia - your grandfather.
My parents hid the issue from me until I was in high school, but my father had been coping with undiagnosed post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) from Vietnam and had recently sought help for it. Growing up, I always sensed something was a bit off-he never was able to sit still, often acted anxious and irritable and often had problems sleeping. I always felt he was emotionally distant from me, and I used to be mad about it, but all of a sudden things started making sense. Even though it was hard to grow up without a "regular" dad, all of the sudden I "got" him. In the thick of this, he flew down and we were able to have the talk only two people can have that have both suffered from anxiety disorders. He finally told me what exactly happened during the war that had triggered his PTSD-it took him thirty years to tell me, and that is something I won't share here. Trust me, it's something that would give *anyone* issues. It was awful. Instead of being mad at him for not being normal, I felt something I had never felt for anyone, which was empathy. It was surreal.
My obstetrician was clearly over her head with what I was dealing with. She suggested that I see a psychiatrist, but since the waiting list on those are so long, she referred me to Shoal Creek Hospital-Austin's mental hospital-the worst place anyone could've sent me. The hours I spent in the waiting room with people murmuring disturbing things to themselves still traumatize me. I waited hours and hours to finally get evaluated. When they asked what drugs I was on, they were referring to street drugs, what? After talking with them, they said to me "honey, you don't belong here-go home!". Okay, I was pretty sure I didn't belong here either, but I knew what I was experiencing wasn't normal. They refused to treat me because I was pregnant and told me that "it's normal to experience anxiety during pregnancy". Ignorance...not "this" type of anxiety.
Thankfully, I was able to get into a doctor soon who finally diagnosed me with a severe panic disorder coupled with some PTSD. I was given proper medication and treatment. This doctor gave me my life back. All of a sudden I started gaining weight back and acting normally again. I slept for ten hours straight and woke up a somewhat whole person again. I truly feel God gives us doctors to help us. I had no problem getting help. I saw myself repeating my childhood except I played the role of my father, and I didn't want to do that.
As if I knew something was going to happen, a few days later I started to bleed. I was in denial how bad it was, but it was bad. It was like what I thought was going to happen with my pregnancy with Natalie was coming into fruition. I continued bleeding for 1 1/2 weeks even though there was still a heartbeat. I remember sitting in a tub with blood coming out of me. The minute I started having hope, the heartbeat was gone-devastating. I couldn't even miscarry a child normally, I had to have them removed by a D&C procedure. I can't describe the empty feeling of having a child removed from you that you didn't get a chance to meet. It was especially hard because I had to stay strong for my Natalie, and I spent the next few months learning the lesson of how important it is to appreciate what you have instead of what you want. I found myself bonding with you, Natalie, emotionally in ways I never had before, playing with you and, in general, finally being the mother you deserve. I stopped drinking entirely because it makes panic disorders and insomnia worse.
I got through the next few months because of the love of my daughter and my amazing husband. Even though he's never experienced what I have, he was there every step of the way, learning about my condition, praying with me, and being there for me. At 19, I had no idea how great of a guy I had picked. When he said those vows, he meant them. I truly feel that if my faith hadn't been there and I hadn't had a strong marriage, I would be an alcoholic divorced single mother of one, or worse. I am almost certain of this.
So, the next few months were recovery time and reflection time. I have been a completely changed person. Sure, what I went through stunk and I'm left with so many questions like "what if my panic attacks caused the miscarriage", etc., but I learned that amazing things can happen through the toughest of times, and you're not always going to know "why". I don't really wish an easy life on my kids, but I wish you a fulfilling life and relationships with your parents that are very open. You can call/message me (day or night) for whatever is needed. I won't be mad and won't judge you, got it? I'm extending that offer to anyone who has read this post that needs help. Think of how many years I could've lost if I hadn't got help. I've gotten to a place where I want to pay it forward and really help someone else out. Please feel free to share this with whomever you think could use some encouragement. Even more tough times were ahead, but I got through them. You just have to keep going and know you're going through this for a reason and you will come out the other side a better person. You can do it, to! Through prayer and support from a few others, I was able to face my fears again and have two more children, despite even more complications.
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| My favorite piece of jewelry-a cross with the birthstone of the baby I lost. |
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