Well, where is here? Here is where I am and honestly, it's a sad state to be in. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically, and financially. It has taken me over two years to get into this state of complete despair. In this place where nothing seems to work properly and everyday is a struggle.
It started with Postpartum depression. I gave birth to my daughter in December 2006. It was a long pregnancy that ended in a uneventful home birth. I worked my whole pregnancy at a credit card company, handling collections calls. I loved my job, my baby was planned, and in general things in my life were pretty "Good."
During the last trimester of my pregnancy, I developed a "separated pubic bone." Essentially, the hormones that loosen up your pelvic outlet were too high and released "early." I had a hard time sitting 8 hours a day and I could not walk far. So I was in pain if I sat too much, in pain if I walked too much, could not roll over in bed without screaming and could barely get in a car. It was, at that time, the most painful thing I had ever experienced. My midwife put me on bed rest and I left work on disability.
Then my daughter was born. My daughter was prayed for from the time I was a small child. I had always wanted a daughter so that I could have the kind of relationship with her that I have with my own mother. I love my boys but I wanted a daughter who could grow to be my friend. I certainly hope she and I can be friends when she is grown. But this little girl was planned by God in every sense of the word.
I was supposed to love her from the moment she was born. She was supposed to be my princess. All the pink clothes I spent months hunting down, the matching bows, the bracelets, the shoes and all the pictures I had plans on taking. It was supposed to be pure blessed bliss.
But it was not. I did not feel love. I did not understand why I was not head over heels in love with her. I still don't. But from the very beginning, something was wrong. I thought maybe it was because it had been a while since I had a newborn? Maybe I just had to get to know her? Maybe she would "grow" on me? And it's devastating to think you may not love your child. You begin to wonder what's wrong with you? And because Postpartum depression is so horrible, you begin to lose control of your own thoughts. I started having panic attacks, thinking about hurting myself, and I was not sleeping properly.
When she was about eight weeks old, I was chatting with a friend online about my feelings. I told her I thought I had Postpartum Depression. She refused to get offline until I called my midwife. So I called my midwife and barely mumbled "I think I have...." Before I started bawling. She did not come and see me. She did not suggest I see a therapist or a doctor. She sent out a prescription for Zoloft. Here's a band aid to make it all better...
I felt relieved. Finally, this miracle drug would help me feel better and love my child. Get back into the swing of being a full time mommy. Because during this time, I began to neglect my duties as a housewife. My husband was thankful I had finally asked for help.
I started taking the Zoloft and the first night I remember laying awake in bed feeling like my brain had ants crawling all over it. It was tingling. If you've never had your brain tingle before? It's a very interesting feeling. It's strange, scary and totally unexpected. Then the dreams came. Crazy, irrational dreams that I would wake up from exhausted. But I began sleeping better as a whole.
By the end of the first week I felt much better. But during the second week, my face started to swell and break out in huge acne like hives. I was clearly allergic to Zoloft. So I called the midwife to tell her that I definitely was starting to feel better, however, I was having a reaction to the medicine. She told me that wasn't possible. That in her experience, patients do not break out in rashes while on Zoloft. That it must be a detergent, a food, another drug, or something else new in my life. But the drug's website said it was possible and when you're depressed, you don't add new things into your life. The brand of my detergent was the least of my concerns at the time.
I think it's extremely important to note here that my relationship with God was seriously failing at this time. I have always prayed, it is who I am to confess and to ask for guidance. But I have in the past denounced my Lord. I am ashamed to confess to myself, much less here on this blog. But it's important. I have spent the years between age seventeen and twenty-five denying God a place in my life. Letting my ego tell me that I can do things on my own. That having faith is weak and dedicating your life to the service of your God is wasteful.
I've gotten over ego some in the past few years. I know I have been given four beautiful children I can not raise without God's help. That he has blessed me with this family for a reason and I must seek him the way he has me. I've also realized that I need more security in my life. But right after I had my daughter, God was really the last thing on my mind and my life reflected the loss of an active relationship with Him.
My midwife took me off the Zoloft and never called me back to see if I was okay or to suggest another drug. She just completely left me hanging at one of the most vulnerable times in my life. My husband took me to a primary care doctor and I told her about my depression. She prescribed Prozac. I took the Prozac for about six weeks and then I took myself off of it. I don't want to get into the details of why I quit taking it but it was a decision based on priorities. Prozac has some unwelcome side effects and I was not willing at that point to continue living with them.
The problem with antidepressants is they make you feel better for a little while and then when reality shows it's ugly face, they leave you hanging. They only really help you, in my experience, if you're already taking the steps to help yourself. And at that time I was not. I was having a hard time adjusting to having three children and dealing with the Postpartum hormones.
This state of struggle continued for months. Then in December 2007 my daughter turned one and financially we were struggling. I went and got an overnight job at a local hotel. It felt good to be working, it gave me a purpose other than being a full time mom and some adult interaction. My job was not hard and it did not pay well but it did help us out some. My house was not every very organized during those days but it was not a complete disaster. My patience with my oldest son was thin. We home schooled that year and his ADHD and Autism were hard for me to deal with while being depressed. It was during that time that I really started being unable to control my mouth when speaking to him. (I will write more on this later)
I had been working at the hotel for a few months and the crazy schedule was starting to wear on me. I was standing behind the counter one morning, a gentleman came to check in and it was all I could do not to vomit. The alcohol smell on him was strong and stale. My stomach was so sick for hours after he walked out. I knew then. I didn't want to think about it but I knew.
On May 13, 2008 I took a pregnancy test. It was immediately positive. We were being careful, I had been doing natural family planning and I was still nursing, but we'd had ONE careless night. This could not be happening right? Why would God give me another baby when I was already having a hard time with the three I had? When I was already having a hard time financially?
I was so shocked. It was like my worst nightmare and I had a hard time accepting it. But even though it was not my plan? Even though I was lost and scared? God knew. He knew what he was planning for our family.
To Be Continued...
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