Hello World

Life has been freakishly busy and I apologize for my lack of posting.
But I promise you, I have a very good reason.

I'd like you to meet Garrett.

He was born on April 3rd at 3:48 in the morning.

He came 2 weeks early and weighed 7 pounds 2 ounces and was 20 inches long.

Absolute perfection. The best way to finish off our family which now consists of 7 people.

Lucky #7, I'd venture to say.

Episode 38- I Hate Thinking About It

The second hospital stay was pure hell. For some reason it was very different than my first stay. During the first stay I felt safe. I felt like I was there to get better. Maybe I was naive and that's why I had an easier time. This next go around I had a newborn baby and a two year old at home and all I wanted to do was get back to them. Cody brought Ethan up to see me the first few times and then he stopped. It was way too hard on Ethan and on me every time they would leave. He did, however, bring Hailey up a few more times. I tried my best, but I barely recognized her. I tried for the sake of everyone else to be a normal and doting mommy to her when she would come in, but I was faking it. She was still detached from me.

I hate thinking about that hospital stay. That looooooong hospital stay that could not end soon enough. I don't want to rehash all of the yucky details. How I developed an addiction to chloralhydrate and trazadone and what a mess that left me with. Or how the psychiatrists that I saw seemed crazier than me. Ha, I discovered there must be a reason that people go into that specialty. They must have some grotesque fascination with the world of psychiatry because they themselves are nut jobs.

I hate thinking about the time that we were in group and I tried to keep things light because I was about to slit my wrists if I heard one more story about someone being molested or abused as a child. The next day the doctor running group reprimanded me for making light of the situation and not being "sad enough". I never made fun of anyone or their plight, but I did try to make things not so terribly sad. And I got in trouble for it time and time again.

I hate thinking about the time that Eric wanted to get some sunshine. In there, depending on what level we had advanced to in our treatment, we were aloud certain amounts of time to be outside in the sun. I may have written about this in an entry from my first stay, I can't remember. Why on earth, would someone battling something like severe depression, only be allowed such minimal time in the SUNSHINE?? The one thing that their brain and body so desperately craved. So Eric and I were sitting in the hallway one afternoon and he was jittery and wanted some air. At one point the huge metal electronic doors opened briefly while a staff member entered the "compound". And without missing a beat, Eric jumped up and ran out of them. Alarms sounded and people got on walkie talkies and rushed outside. And do you know what they found outside the hospital? Eric sitting peacefully in the grass. The air was cold and the sky was sunny. And he sat there taking it in. And he was on lock down for two days to follow. Yup, in a room with actual padded walls with a door which only had a tiny window. I peeked in on him from time to time and he looked like a caged monkey pacing back and forth. I hate thinking about that.

I hate thinking about the time when we were out on one of our brief ten minute walks. It was cold and misty outside and we walked in single file like prisoners. Some people were in handcuffs. We walked and the supervising doctor talked to us about something. As we walked my feet became antsy and before I knew it they started into a more brisk walk, and then a slow jog. I kept my hands tucked into my coat pockets to keep them warm, but it's as if my feet had a mind of their own. And so they moved faster and faster. I never was in a full run, but I for sure was going and moving and working my heart. The doctor kept yelling at me to get back in line and to slow it down. But my feet kept moving. It's like I was running in place but still moving with the group. And I know it's not because I was trying to keep warm. It's because something inside of me was yelling to MOVE!! And not to run away, but to exercise. I craved it like Eric craved the sunshine that day. I couldn't control it and it's like instinct took over. But I got lunch isolation that day because I was setting a bad example for people around me. I hate thinking about that.

5 Years

Look at the girl in this picture. What do you see? I see a girl is beyond beautiful, both inside and out. I see a girl who is obsessed with ballet and animals. I see a girl who smothers me on a daily basis with hugs and kisses and "I love yous". I see a girl who is creative and artistic and will be starting kindergarten in August. I see a girl who I love more than words can say.

Hailey Jane turned five years old in January. I've done a lot of pondering and reflecting with this huge milestone in her life. Where I was five years ago, what I was going through, and the journey I've taken to become the person I am today. My OB and dear friend, Mike, and I joked at a recent appointment that we have now lived together for five and half years. In a way it really feels like that! Hailey is with me at every baby appointment and at this particulr one, it touched me how Dr. Mike interacted with her. There was something different about it as we talked about what a big milestone her fifth birthday was for all of us. He scooped her up in his arms, gave her a huge hug and kiss on the cheek and told her how special she is. Then he held her up so she could hold the doppler as we listened to the baby's heart beat. Oh I guess I have not posted since Novemeber when we found out we are having another perfectly healthy little BOY!! He will be arriving on or before April 7th.

Five years. So much has happened during this time, and it seems like a lifetime ago that I was sitting in the psychiatric unit at Lakeview Hospital. I was there at this time in 2006 and it feels surreal to think about.

Today I was at the park and talked to a couple of ladies who are readers of this blog...or who WERE readers until I stopped writing in it. I make excuses all the time about why I stopped writing. Yes, I am busy beyond belief and life has thrown us some curve balls in the last couple of years which have taken up huge amounts of my time and emotional energy. But the truth of that matter is that I feel that I'm not the same person who sat in a lonely bedroom on the fourth floor of Lakeview Hospital in 2006. I'm not the same person, but it doesn't mean that that person didn't help mold me into the person I've become. Does that make sense?

The truth of the matter is it often scares me to think about that time. Hollow and scared are the best words to describe who I was back then. But I do need to continue to write this story, if for nothing else than my own posterity. I want to remember what happened and I want my children to one day understand this time in our lives. It was a very significant time in our family history, a time that should not be forgotten...as scary as it was.

Back Again...and Expecting

Hello readers! No you are not imagining things...I am back again. And by looking at the above picture, you can see I am pregnant! This is baby #5 and it's for sure our caboose. I'm filled with a lot of mixed feelings about ending this jounrey in my life.

I must admit that this pregnancy has found me sad and weepy a lot of the time. Sometimes I start to worry because all I can think of is how afraid I am of having a "Hailey" experience all over again. But I know I am in control and I can do things to prevent that from happening again. Recognizing the warning signs is the key, and I am doing that. Just tonight I sent my OB a lengthy email explaining some of my feelings, so we will jump on a game plan.

I'll try to go into detail about my feelings in a later post. As of now I took a Lunesta 30 minutes ago (Yes, a Lunesta. GASP!) It does happen on the rarest of ocassions. I may be an expert at this, but I am still human.

I am due the second week of April and am so excited to meet the final member of our family. My big U/S is scheduled for Nov 17th, in two weeks. Wish us luck!

The First Night Back

Journal Entry- February 25, 2006

This has been a crazy day. I went to see Schneiman this morning, not having any idea what would take place by doing so. Now I am sitting back on the 4th floor of the hospital. Maybe part of me always knew I would end up back here. I fought it tooth and nail. I haven't done this much crying in so long. Crying means I'm alive, right? I didn't want to come back. But I was afraid that if I resisted too much, it would be the end of my marriage. SO here I am.

Yesterday I went into that appointment with Draper feeling totally cynical. But I was surprised. We ended up not doing the exam. We just talked. I know as I look back at the course of events in the last several months, certain people have been placed in my life- not by chance, but by plan. Draper is one of those people. When I first learned back in August that I would have to see a parinatologist, I was beyond devastated. But I now see that it was a blessing in disguise. I now consider Mike Draper MD a friend. Yesterday Cody, Draper, and I sat in his office and talked and cried.

Despite all that, my appointment with Schneiman landed me back in here. I don't think I really want to die, but he still thought I was a danger to myself and I needed help. Dr. Neuman and Dr. Draper both agreed.

Leaving Ethan and Hailey this afternoon was pure hell. I held them as long as I could, which wasn't long enough. Right now my shirt still has the smell of Hailey's spit up on it. I want to hold them right now. It hurts. I find it hard to breathe with out them. I thought I wasn't bonded with Hailey, but this aching in my heart says otherwise. I love her. I love him. I don't want to die. But I don't want to hurt either. I have to get better for my wonderful husband and precious children. I just don't know if that is possible. What if it's not? What if I am always sick?

Episode 37- Meeting Eric

After the sun went down I found myself in the recreation room. The lights were off and I sat on the couch, thinking I was alone. However there was another person in the room, sitting in a chair across the way. Before long the two of us were talking. I don't know how the conversation started, but I remember it being strange. It all felt so surreal. *Eric was 28 and had tried to commit suicide. Obviously he had been unsuccessful. Eric would turn out to be a great friend to me. He had a sad story and to this day I think about him. Although he and I resided in the same town, I don't know what became of him. We shared those weeks together and he taught me a lot. But His story is his own, and because I respect him I will not share it here.

During those weeks I grew to love Eric. Kind of as a brother, and kind of as a stray puppy that you want to take home. I have more stories than I can count about Eric and me. Our adventures in the looney bin...that would make a great story in itself. In fact, I journaled details about each of the hospitalmates that I shared that time with. Each had a specific, interesting, and sad story. However, I was the only one in there who thought about drowning her newborn baby in the bath tub.

Episode- Another Round Of Hell

It was the day my life seemed to end. I was all but committed. I cried the entire way to the hospital, literally hoping to die. I was already deader than dead on the inside. I look back on this time and I wonder what it was like for Cody. He has never talked about it much, but I know he was terribly hurt by this whole nightmare. He felt powerless to save me. He couldn't save our children's mother. He couldn't help me. So he did the only thing he DID have power over. He sent me back to the hospital.

It was the same as before. The sounds, the smells, the scenery. The process was the same too. I was admitted through the ER where they evaluated me, decided almost immediately that I was a threat to myself, so within an hour I was back on the 4th floor of the hospital. The psychiatric unit. I wanted to die. But again I thought of my babies back home and I think it was the only thing keeping me alive.

This time I had a roommate. I had been lucky before that I had the room to myself. But now I shared it with a middle aged woman named Becky. I don't know the problems that Becky had, but I know she was a cutter. She had knife marks all over her body. She would sit on her bed every day rock back and forth. Sometimes she would go to group, but mostly she wouldn't.

Cody left me in my room after the hundreds of evaluations were over. As he left me I desperately wanted to run after him and plead with him to take me home. But at the same time as I watched him leave I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting me. I wanted to throw something at him. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to rip his heart out and make him feel what I was feeling. But instead, some drug overtook my body and I lost consciousness for a while.

Episode 35- Stop Breastfeeding and You Will Get Better

I have to preface this by saying that people are morons. And more specific, a lot of psychiatrists are morons. Big ones. Big fat turd morons. Not to say that they all are because I am sure that somewhere in this world there are some good psychiatrists. But I have yet to meet one.

I nursed Hailey. I nursed her from the moment I finally met her. I have had great luck with all of my babies in that they have never had problems nursing. Yes I was on so many medications I can't list them all. But most of them didn't go into my milk so it was okay. I nursed her and I loved it. During out nursing sessions I felt calm, peaceful, and a little happy. I cherished those moments because when I wasn't nursing, I felt crazy.

When Hailey was almost five weeks old, I went for a session with Dr. Neuman. Did I mention that psychiatrists were morons? This guy took the cake. He should have gotten an award. He told me that a huge part of my problem was that I was nursing. Everyone told me that my problem was hormonal. Really? Is that right? Then how come all of my hormones were normal? How come all of my blood work always came back to show that there was in fact no chemical irregularities? Right. But still, people said it was hormonal. I had a "chemical" imbalance.

Dr. Neuman told me that the only way I would get better is if I reset my hormonal clock. Breastfeeding was throwing things far out of wack so I needed to stop. And you know what? I listened to him. I recall with clarity what it was like when I got home that day and told Cody that Neuman told me to stop nursing. I remember the anguish I felt. I remember the pain in my chest as I thought of giving up the one and only thing that made me feel connected to my baby. It was the only thing that made me happy, and I was going to give it up. Tell me, where is the sense in that?

So I said goodbye to those cherished nursing sessions. Hailey began formula and I went downhill from there. Instead of getting better, I got worse. And knowing what I know now about the importance of breastfeeding, it fills me with rage when I think that I gave it up. I am angry that medically trained professionals advised me to stop it. I remember the day that my milk dried up in the psych hospital. I was devastated. I cried for an entire day. There was no going back.

I have since started a blog devoted to breastfeeding issues. It is my hope and prayer that I can save another mother from going down that un-necessary road of bottle feeding. In the past four years I have educated myself as much as I can on the benefits of breastfeeding for both the mother AND baby. You can follow that blog here.

Episode 34- Five Weeks of Hell

February 25, 2006

The spacious walk-in closet seemed infinite in each direction as I sat in the dark silence. No one will find me here, I thought to myself. The previous hours had been a complete blur. I hadn’t slept much during the night and I knew I had been awake since at least 5:00 a.m. which was the last time Hailey woke up hungry. Outside of my isolated world I could hear life going on. It was a far distant and muffled sound, almost like I was hearing it under water. Ethan was running around rambunctiously and Hailey was beginning to fuss, but I knew that Cody and his dad were there taking care of the simple things I couldn’t handle.

I’m completely useless.

My appointment that morning with Dr. Schneiman was at 10:00 and I had promised both Cody and Dr. Draper that I would see him. Schneiman was the last person on the planet I wished to see. He had been the one to “commit” me to the nut house the last time and I knew he would try to do it again. At this point I was still convinced that I did not need hospitalization. This will pass one way or another…it’s just a matter of time, I kept on telling myself. I wanted to handle things in my own way. All others were certain that with out the constant supervision of idiots in white lab coats I would surely parish. I hated them all. I hated every person who seemed to care about me. I hated the fact that I DID want to die but they wouldn’t let me and they were trying to make me see that I needed to live. Rather than being freed of this pool of misery I was engulfed in, they assumed it was better that I be locked away in that Godforsaken institution and be pumped so full of drugs that I didn’t know who or where I was. Oh yes, that was far better. Of course a drug could fix it. A drug could make me want to live and will this demon out of my body. Well maybe I didn’t want to be fixed.

And so I sat there in the darkness of the closet, my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped snuggly around them. In some part of my brain was a hidden trace of logic and it was telling me to get up off the floor. If they find you like this they will know you’re crazy. I was making a deal with myself that I could feel exactly like I was feeling as long as I didn’t let anyone else in on it. I was a good actress…I could fool them all. I would simply walk into Schneiman’s office with a half smile on my face and tell him “You know, I think things are really starting to turn around for me. Today I feel good and hopeful. I’m going to be fine. All I need is some rest and a little perspective.” As I began to get ready for the day I rehearsed those words over and over again. I went over every detail from what the expression on my face would be to the sound of my voice. Inwardly I wanted to die but no one had to know about it. The day before as Cody and I sat in Draper’s office, I had spilled a few beans but I knew I could rack that up to just having a bad day. It was fixable. I didn’t really mean it, or at least that’s what I would tell Schneiman.

I stood in the bathroom and starred blankly into the mirror. The realization came to me days before that I didn’t recognize the person looking back at me. This person was hollow and lifeless, not anything like the woman I once knew. The woman I once knew glowed. She was beautiful and radiant. She had a smile about her even when she wasn’t smiling. She laughed and danced and was silly. But this retched woman starring back at me was dead. She had moved into the soul of the forgotten woman and taken over. As I stood there and looked into the mirror I should have felt sadness at the loss of the old me. I should have cried as her memory swept over me and I remembered what it was like to be her. I should have felt bitterness, but rather, I felt numb. There was nothing to feel.

It’s almost impossible to recall what took place between that moment and the moment Schneiman gave me the news. It’s all so fuzzy. But I do remember that as I left the house that morning Cody reminded me that I needed to take my journal. He wanted me to take it to show Schneiman. What I didn’t know is that while I was driving to his office Cody called him and said he wanted him to read what I had written in the last few days. He made sure that Schneiman would see my innermost thoughts on paper. I hated Cody for that.

Journal entry
February 24, 2006
I guess I just have to survive. It’s the “law”. And when I look into my little boy’s face or hear his precious voice say Mama, I know I can’t end my life. But sometimes I feel so resentful that he and all my family are keeping me from doing it. They are a road block. I want this drug so badly…the fantastic feeling of my life slipping slowly away from me. When I think about Ethan, I feel so guilty as if I’ve already done it and he must now endure a life as the kid whose mommy went nuts and over dosed on pills or carved lines down her arms with a knife. Perhaps both methods at the same time? I can’t let him be that kid. I know Cody could move on. There are other women for him, women who are way better than me and deserve a man like him. But I am now and always will be Ethan’s only mommy. I am so hungry but I don’t want to eat. Food sounds terrible like a poison. I’m shaky and I know it’s because all I’ve had today is half a bowl of Fruit Loops. Ethan ate the other half. I don’t want food. I’ve lost all desire for anything. Eating. I hate it. Things that once brought me joy and fulfillment…I plain don’t care about them now. This afternoon I have my (probable) last appointment with Draper. I don’t care. He’ll ask me how I am and I will lie. I’m good at it. I wish there was a bullet in my head but I’ll tell him I’m fine. I won’t tell him that I hear voices and see things and I can’t decipher what’s reality and what’s not. Cody wants- no he insists on going with me to the appointment. Okay fine, whatever. Cody can’t bear this burden with me. I can’t let him know how deep this thing goes. So from now on until that delightful day when my life ends, I will keep on pretending. I only have to survive.

“Veronica,” I could hear Schneiman say but it was like he was a million miles away. He closed the journal and moved his chair closer to where I was sitting. “I am going to call Cody and tell him that the best thing for you right now is hospitalization.” His voice was soft and soothing, almost fatherly. But all I could see him as was this terrible monster who was ripping my life apart. He was a beast.

“It’s useless,” I said coldly. “You know, I have rehearsed this scenario several times in the last few weeks. I have played it over and over again in my mind. In it I am sitting with Dr. Rassmusen, one of the psychiatrists from the looney bin. We are sitting there talking and he asks me how I’m doing. How am I doing? He wants to know how I am doing? And then I let him have it. I tell him that all he cared about last time was getting me medicated enough so I appeared to be stable so I was no longer a legality for him. All he did was get me hooked on those devil pills and then sent me on my way to endure the next eight months of living hell. Neither he nor any of the other doctors or nurses or shrinks at that evil place gave a damn about me or my unborn baby. They didn’t listen to me. I hate that Dr. Rassmusen. And in this scenario I tell him that.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the tears began to fall. “So send me back. Send me back to that awful place so I can be healed. Healed just like I was last time. Send me back so I can get this false sense of hope and security while I am there. And then what? Where do I go after that?” I was almost pleading with him.

He made the call to Cody while I was still in the room, but I wished he had asked me to leave. He and Cody talked about me and my delicate condition as if I had a disease and was under sedation. They were making all the decisions for me, not caring at all about what I thought or how I felt. Why wasn’t anyone listening to me? I am going to be fine! I was screaming in my mind and no one could hear me. Let me handle things my way! Looking back on it I know that “my way” would have been to peacefully end my life. I wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but I know that’s what I would have done if I had been allowed to or given the chance.

In the rare moments of sleep that I was getting I had a reoccurring dream. Some might call it a nightmare, but to me it was more of a fantasy. In the dream I am at the swimming pool in the neighborhood where I grew up. Only now it is old and abandoned. There are giant cracks in the plaster of the pool and weeds are growing up into it. I slowly climb the high dive ladder and the wind is blowing viciously. I get to the top and I look out over the pool to find it empty of all water. The only thing in the pool is a tiny bassinet sitting on the bottom of the deep end and I realize that Hailey is inside of it. She is crying and I am panicky. I must get to her! I step to the edge of the diving board and slowly begin to bounce up and down. And then I raise my arms above my head, arch my body forward, and dive. I begin to fall head first into the empty swimming pool. And then I wake up. That is how the dream would end each time. I never dreamed long enough to see if I crashed into the plaster below. Oddly enough when I would awaken from the dream I would be overcome with this feeling of disappointment, as if I was sad that I didn’t follow through with the fall from the diving board. I was still living and that truly sucked.

“Okay, I will be in touch. Goodbye.” Schneiman hung up the phone and turned to me. “Cody is going to make the necessary calls to get things lined up for your hospital stay.” He then said he was going to call Draper and give him the details of our session. This time he asked me to leave the room and I’m grateful that he did. I hated being treated like a naïve child while I was in the room and people were talking about me like I wasn’t there. So I was glad to wait in the other room while they conversed.

The next thing I really remember was the car ride home. Cody had pleaded with me on the phone to take Schneiman up on his offer of driving me home. But I had insisted on doing it myself. I was going to savor my last few moments of freedom before being locked away and treated like the crazy person that I was. I turned the car stereo up to full blast as if to drown out the rage of emotion that was pumping through my veins. I was so angry and bitter and full of sorrow, all at the same time. I don’t know how I even made it home because I couldn’t see through the clutter of tears in my eyes. The one thought that kept popping into my head was that I couldn’t go away to the hospital because Hailey was going to be blessed at church the next Sunday. My parents were flying in on Wednesday to spend the week with us. My parents!! They can’t know what is going on! It’s so humiliating! At the thought of that I began to cry harder and harder. Everything was getting screwed up and I had control over NOTHING! Precious things were getting ripped away from me left and right and there was nothing I could do about it. The most precious thing of all was my freedom. Again the feelings of hatred began to circulate through my mind. I hated everyone who was taking away my freedom.

Once back at the house Cody met me with eyes full of tears. “I’m so sorry sweetie,” he embraced me sincerely, but I just stood there hard as a rock. You bastard. All I wanted to do was get this thing over with. I wanted to get to the hospital and get pumped full of drugs and inundate all that I was feeling. I wanted to be cut off from reality, and the sooner I got to the hospital the better.

Kissing Ethan goodbye was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I held his little body close to mine and I breathed him in so deeply. He was the reason I was still living. Not Cody, not Hailey, not anyone but Ethan. Inside that small two year old boy was my whole world. Through out all of the craziness that I was enduring, my love for him was constant and the only part of me that was sane. In him was hope and peace. I inhaled his sweet little boy smell, a mixture of sweat and Cheerios and slobber and dirt. To me at that moment the smell of my little boy was the most pure and true thing I knew. And that one small part of me that still held a shred of sanity knew that I had to get well.

I had to do it for my boy.

Skipping Ahead

Hailey was born. She made it here safely, unharmed. To this day I consider it a miracle that she was 100% perfect. So much could have gone badly for her during that pregnancy. But somehow she remained sheilded from it all. The next 5 weeks were a blur. Scary things happened to me during that time. So scary that it has taken me months to muster the courage to write the next chapter in this saga. For my own sanity, I've decided to cut to the chase. In the next episode Hailey is 5 weeks old.

Needing to Write

It's been ages since I've updated this blog. I have a million things to write about (and the more time that passes, the more I come up with to journal.) I wish I had the time to document everything. Life has been freakishly crazy for about a year now. Last fall I got pregnant and experienced a very sad miscarriage. Then I got pregnant again toward the end of January and I was so sick and tired during that first trimester. Then in March I was called to be the Primary president in our ward. Wow, what a challenging task that turned out to be. In fact, that is the understatement of the year. Then in May and June I had some family issues arise that are too personal to publish on here, but they were very difficult to overcome.

And above all, when life seemed to be normalizing again, my dear brother Joseph was killed in a car accident on July 1st.

This has been a year of learning and growth for me. I know that the Lord doesn't have us endure trials in vain. The knowledge I've gained this year is priceless. It's been devastating and heart wrenching, but priceless. And through it all, I've in ways never felt closer to the Lord. For that I am so grateful.

As I sit here and write this, I am only 11 days away from meeting my new baby boy. I feel him kicking and squirming and trying to rip right through my lower half. I am very stressed and sore and everything in my body hurts. But I am so happy and excited about life. I have three beautiful and perfect children and adding this fourth baby....it's enough to bring me to tears.

I look back at the last four years and all that we have been through since that experience with my second pregnancy. Life has a way of teaching us lessons. I know I have a lot of blanks to fill in to make the story complete, and I'll get to that in time. But getting from point A to where we are now has been an adventure, and I don't think we'd trade it for anything.

One day I want to sit in the Celestial Kingdom and have my loved ones surrounding me. I long for the day when I can embrace my sweet brother again and never have to say good-bye. I miss him so much on a daily basis that I can barely breathe. There is so much I want to say to him. Just being able to see his cute smile and hear his laugh again is enough motivation to send me to Hell and back...if it means that I've been refined enough to be with him and the rest of my family forever.

We don't get to that point in our eternal progression with out experiencing heart ache. Often times, immense heart ache. I think about what Joseph Smith and Jesus Christ endured during their mortal lives. If I am ever to attain salvation equal to their own I have to endure pain too. But with that pain comes indescribable joy. And so I sit here and I think of meeting this new baby boy, who is likely in the company of his Uncle Joseph at the moment.

The thought of meeting and holding a spirit so fresh from Heaven brings me to tears. I can't wait.

Tragedy

I know my readers get sick of all the breaks I take. But this summer has been full of incident and I'm looking forward to closing this chapter and moving into autumn. My brother, Joseph, was tragically killed in a car accident on July 1st and it's taken center stage in my life for the last several weeks. Bear with me. I'll be back to posting as soon as I'm ready to dive back into it.

BTW, this pregnancy is going so smoothly and he's due to arrive in 9 weeks!! I can't believe we'll have another baby boy so soon. We couldn't be more excited!

New Responsibilities

I apologize for my lack of posting my story in recent months. My life took a major turn two months ago when I was called to be the Primary President in our ward (meaning I am in charge of the gigantic children's organization in our church area). It's taken up a massive amount of my time, and whenever I sit down to the computer all I have time to work on are my church responsibilities. However, I know I need to start posting again and I'm trying to make time. In my personal life, I'm now 22 weeks pregnant with a perfectly healthy baby boy. This pregnancy couldn't be going smoother despite several weeks of intense morning sickness and fatigue. I'm due October 18th and we're very excited!

Episode 33- The Blow Out

Some time around 5:00 that morning the drugs started to wear off and I regained use of my limbs. I was drenched in sweat from the after labor and the constant panic attacks (which no nurses were aware of because I couldn't communicate). I'd suffered in silence for hours. But finally, I was able to start screaming. Something was very wrong with my lower half. I could feel it. It wasn't normal and it wasn't right. At one point it felt as if I'd been shot in the bum. Something was on fire down there and I started screaming for help.

A nurse ran in and asked what was wrong and I tried to tell her the best I could. She immediately checked my incision and my bleeding and that seemed to be okay, but my abdomen was hard as a rock. It was like I was having a massive contraction that wasn't ending. She threw my legs up to check under me and found that something was...hanging out. My rectum had literally flipped inside out. Think of the worst possible hemorrhoids imaginable. That's what had happened to my insides and it was because I was on waaaaaaay too much pitocin. It had caused my insides to not only expel afterbirth, but also everything that was near an opening down in the southern half. I'm lucky my entire uterus didn't blow out as well.

The pit was shut off quickly but the contractions wouldn't let up. By this point my mind went into another place. The only way to describe the place it went to is La La Land. It must be the place that you go when your conscious tries to hide from reality. I felt like I was floating. Then I started to hear screaming...the loudest screaming I'd ever heard. I looked around the room wondering who it was. I was so confused because I wasn't sharing a room and none of the nurses were screaming. Suddenly I realized it was me who was screaming.

I was yanked back to reality and saw two nurses standing over me hitting me in the stomach. Each of them stood at my sides and it was like they did CPR on my uterus. They were afraid I was about to hemorrhage and they had to get my uterus to go back to normal so they beat on me. Literally. Now after having a major incision through all those layers, then to have been through what I went through during the previous hours, imagine that kind of pain. No wonder my mind left my body for a short time. I'm convinced that must have blacked out because I don't remember anything after that. The next thing I knew it was light outside and they were bringing me a cup of brother to drink.

Episode 32- The First Night

I was very fortunate that Hailey latched on and nursed right away. I was surprised since she had been away for so long after birth, but she was eager to eat. Go figure! Ethan had also been very hungry and good at eating from the get go, so I felt very blessed. The first few hours after our meeting was pretty uneventful, but I was in a massive amount of pain. Upon Ethan's' delivery they discovered I had an allergy to morphine which is normally administered through the IV right after birth. But this around I didn't have it and what ever they did give me, did nothing to ease the pain. It was like taking an aspirin for a migraine headache.

I had the cutest nurse named Lindy. She was so attentive and helped me a lot. She had three kids of her own and it was nice getting to talk to her. By bedtime I was feeling pretty confidant in myself and my ability to in fact be a new mom again. Cody wanted to stay over night with me, but I thought it was silly and I made home go home. I didn't see any reason for him to stay because I was doing okay and I wanted him at home with Ethan. He protested but I finally won and he left the hospital at about 10:00 that night.

That was right around the time Lindy's shift ended and suddenly I was left alone in my room and I started to get nervous. I thought about calling Cody to come back, but I decided against it. I was very anxious about how my wind down routine would go there at the hospital. The nurses were aware of the medication I would take at bedtime, but of course since I was a patient they had to give it to me directly from the pharmacy. The new nurse came in to give me my drugs and check all my vitals again before bed. I don't know why I had it in my head that my routine would go unchanged. Everything was out of wack. I felt so cold and alone and very very scared.

To make a very long story short, the night was pure hell. It was by far the worst night I'd experienced in my life. Even worse than the night when the "monster" told me to drink Drain-o. My nurse that night was actually the charge nurse and she was an idiot. She was so old school and had her own way of doing things and disregarded all of my wishes. I tried to be patient with her, but she kept brushing me off. She upped my dosage of pitocin and I was in an incredible amount of pain all night. Every time I contracted I felt like my insides were being ripped apart. I later found that to be true (keep reading and you'll see why).

I kept telling the nurse Carol I HAD to get some sleep. She obviously had not read anything in my chart that Draper had instructed. He wrote that sleep was my top priority but she obviously didn't care. At one point she came in and put Benadryl in my IV. Benadryl...something I had a bad reaction to and caused me panic attacks. It was in the chart. She didn't look or didn't care. The drug made me very groggy and unable to communicate, but not at all sleepy. It did the opposite to me, as it always did. My mind raced in circles for hours until it wore off. But physically it made me so I could barely pick up my hand to press the call button. When ever anyone came to check on me I probably said something like "Pain...hurts...stop it...sleep..." I couldn't get any words out. Inside I was screaming. The pain was almost unbearable, brought on directly from the unnecessary amount of pit in my veins.

To make things worse, I never once saw my baby during the night. For some reason they thought I was better off with her in the nursery all night receiving bottles of formula. Oh...the thought of it fills me with hate. They had no right!!! Looking back on it, knowing what I know now, I would have been much better off holding my new baby all night long, nursing her, on an extremely low dose of pitocin, and in and out of twilight sleep. Had I not been give the Benadryl or the very high dose of pit, that could have been possible. I wouldn't have really slept, but ti would have been much more peaceful and relaxing for me. And my heart wouldn't have hurt so much being away from my baby. It's not like I got an ounce of sleep anyway, so what would it have mattered otherwise?

Not Gone For Good

Hi gang- I've got a good reason for being gone so long. I'm pregnant again! I'm a couple months along now and sicker than ever. The great thing is that this looks like a very healthy pregnancy judging by some tests and an ultrasound. But along with that comes major sickness. I thought I was sick with the baby we lost, but that was nothing. I'm barely functional most of the day lately. My poor kids have been glued to the TV a lot of time. In a few weeks I promise I'll be back to writing again. Thanks for checking in!

Episode 31- Recovery

I wish I could say that the next few hours were filled with me gazing into my new daughter's eyes, or feeling her warm skin against mine as I nursed her. I also wish I could say that I felt a connection with her, or a bond if you will. But the reason I can't say any of this is because it was hours before they would let me see her again.

The delivery was uncomplicated and Hailey no problems to speak of. But as always happens in a sterile and un-natural hospital setting is that she was whisked away faster than I could blink. As soon as the surgery was complete I was taken to a recovery room, which happened to be the same pr-op room I'd been in about an hour before. As my uncontrolable shaking lessened and I began to settle down, all I could think about was holding my new baby. Cody wasn't there with me during the first part of recovery because we was taking pictures of Hailey...just like I'd requested. I was grateful that at least he was able to be there with her. He even assisted in her first bath.

But during that time, I laid there in a cold and stiff bed all by myself, and the only thing to keep me company was the soft beep of the blood pressure machine and the thoughts racing inside my head. Every now and then a nurse would come in to check on me, but more so I was left alone. I kept asking when I could see my baby again, and I was constantly patronized and told that I needed to get my rest. I would have plenty of time with the baby in the next few days, I was told.

It has been three years since the birth. But even now as I sit here and write this, I'm filled with anger. Anger at the ignorance of people and their utter disregard for a mother's instinctual needs. After having been through what I went through these last few years, I now truly believe that there is something "magical" that takes place between a mother and her newborn during the first few moments after birth.

In the animal world, as soon as a mother gives birth to her young she immediately nuzzles the baby. She licks him. She paws at him. She puts her snout right against his. And then right away she urges the baby to nurse. This all happens within the first minute or so. We are animals just like those in the wild. Although we have a higher level of intelligence and we are capable of feelings on a different emotional level, the carnal instinct is the same in us.

In numerous countries around the world, as soon as a baby is born the cord isn't even cut until several minutes after birth. A friend of mine recently gave birth at home under the care of two nurse midwives. As soon as her son was pushed out and the fluid was suctioned from his nose and lungs, he was laid in her bare chest and she nursed him immediately. The cord wasn't cut until an entire hour after he was born. Of course this took place at her own home and all of her demands and wishes were accommodated. It's completely different in a hospital setting. But I find it very shameful that the mother's needs are brushed off as a nuisance.

And I'm not saying that the hours that passed before I was able to be with my daughter again was the soul cause of my extreme post-partum problems. But I can't help but think that it had a part to do with it. "Honey, you just lay here and get some rest and we'll bring you your baby after you're properly recovered." What did that mean anyway? Those words still echo through my mind. How, after carrying and nurturing a baby for nine months, then to be cut open and have her extracted only to be yanked from me and taken God knows where...tell me how I was supposed to find any rest at that time?

As I laid there and watched the clock ticking, panic and anxiety began to surface and I tried my best to calm my feelings. But with each passing minute, it became harder and harder to keep it at bay. Cody finally came back into the room and he showed me pictures on the camera. It had been two hours since her birth and already she seemed like a foreign object to me. In my mind I knew she was my baby, but a part of me didn't see her as anything but a picture.

Hour three was nearing and I was feeling the aftermath of the surgery in full force. During my operation with Ethan it was discovered that I had an allergy to morphine, so they obviously weren't giving it to me this time. Whatever pain med was in my IV was not working and I was in agony. Actually, pure hell better describes the physical pain I was in. FINALLY the time had come to be wheeled into the room where I would stay for the next four days. I traveled on the bed and I felt like I had to hold my insides together with my arms. The pain was terrible!

Soon after surgery some kind of leg cuffs were wrapped around my legs from the knee down and they were supposed to continuously message my muscles to keep good blood flow. But all they seemed to do was annoy the crap out of me, make my legs sweat profusely, and make me lose all feeling in my legs every time they came on (kind of like a blood pressure cuff).

Once I was in my room, they got me situated but still NO BABY!! I was beginning to think that she was gone for good, when I heard a knock on the door and the nurse walked in wheeling in a little bassinet. "Are you ready to see your baby?" She said with a little laugh. I could have slapped her. "No, you dumb broad. I'm not ready. I'm tired and I need to rest. Would you mind coming back in another three hours??!!" I didn't really say it, but I wanted to. Morons.

This is in recovery. I spent some time under this hot inflatable blanket. It felt cozy, but I was mad. Can you tell?

Episode 30- The Morning Of Part II

The rest of the morning was torture. I had been told not to eat anything since the night before an I was starving to death. I sent Cody away so he could eat or watch TV or something. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts so I spent the next few hours wandering the halls, and spending a lot of time looking at the new babies in the nursery. Our little girl would be here soon and I felt happy.

But right along with happy, I felt a lot of labor pains. I'd been warned that an amnio could send me into labor and sure enough, they were right. The contractions started almost as soon as I was off the U/S bed. They strengthened a lot as the morning went on and I decided that no matter what the test results came back as, this girl was on her way. To my delight they results were good and her lungs were perfectly developed. So I found Cody and we headed to the pre-op room where they took some blood and I changed clothes.

At that moment I felt really giddy and for a while, Cody and I seemed to be like our old selves again. They monitored me and the baby for a while as we waited for Draper to arrive. The contractions got stronger and stronger and at one point we debated whether or not to try for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). I know it's all in the past, but there are few days that go by that I don't regret having a second c-section. As it turned out, the baby was in the perfect position and she was very small. I probably could have sneezed her out with our complications. But I was scared of the unknown. For goodness sake, the last several months had been full of nothing BUT the unknown.

So we headed to the O.R. It seemed like a dream. It was all a blur. At first I didn't hear her cry because she had a lot of gunk in her lungs. Then they had to give her a few puffs of oxygen and then she screamed bloody murder. My daughter, my sweet girl...had arrived at 2:05 p.m. She certainly was small. Only 6 pounds 5 ounces and 18 inches long. But she cried and got a bright pink color to her.

Within a few minutes they got her cleaned off and she was brought over for me to see. I turned my head as much as I could to face her. She looked perfect in her tiny white cap. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, but she looked at me and I know that right then, she knew me. What we had been through during those months together...how would I ever be able to explain it to her? And how could I have ever thought the things that I did about her? She was beautiful. Hailey Jane had arrived. And I'd like to say this is where the story ends and that we all lived happily ever after. But in that second, the story had only begun.

And The Angels Sang...

I fixed it!!!!!!!! I have been tinkering on this dumb computer all day and I fixed the problem with the browser! Well that is not true. I went in the back door through another browser, and turned out I like that browser even better so I'm keeping it! I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It's the ever so small victories in life that make me feel great. Maybe tonight I can get on here and start on a massive six week update!

Technical Difficulties

Sorry for the lack of posts lately. For some reason, my server has been down. I'm going to call my sister-in-law who does I.T. and see if she can help me get it up and running again. I will have a ton of catching up to do by then!