Let me start in the beginning, I became pregnant in January 2004.  Jason and I had been married for almost 5 years and were so excited when we found out we were pregnant.  I had many changes in my life going on, I was finishing nursing school, his parents had moved in to live with us, due to my mother in laws failing health and we decided to remodel our house.  No big deal, right??  I had some bouts of anxiety and probably some depression when I was pregnant, but just chalked it up to hormones.   

The remodel was a huge stress; we were doing all new flooring and a complete kitchen redo, as well as getting the babies room done.  Jason was also traveling a great deal of the time (2-3 weeks at a time) and about half way through my pregnancy I finished nursing school and took my board exams.  Through all this, I had almost constant morning sickness.  I remember times of pulling over to the side of the road so I could vomit, either on my way in to work or my way home.  I was working the night shift, but thank goodness my manager took pity on me and let me move to a dayshift after only a couple months.  Also my mother in law had newly diagnosed colon cancer and was on chemotherapy, she was very sickly at the time and losing tremendous amounts of weight, while I was thankfully gaining what she lost.  I tell you all of this because I think all of these stressors played a part in my experience.

I had pictured in my mind the perfect delivery, I would tell Jason “It is time” and he would carry my bags to the car and off to the hospital we would go.  That’s what happens in the movies, right?  Well at almost 39 weeks, I was feeling awful.  I had an appointment with my doctor that afternoon, but called in the morning to see if I could get an earlier appointment, so I could go back to bed the rest of the day.  They got me in that morning.  I drove myself to my appointment and told the doctor I felt like I had the flu.  My blood pressure was high when they checked it, and it had not been a problem before now.  They checked it again and it was still high.  He told me he wanted me to go over to the hospital to the L & D floor and get checked out.  I could not believe it, I was by myself and had no bag, but as I normally do, I stayed cool and calm though my insides were a mess.  I called Jason and he said he would come over, but I urged him to keep working, since he did not have much time off.  I felt so alone.  They drew lab work and did vitals, my lab work was apparently borderline, but my BP was still high.  Doctor said they would start inducing that night!!!  What!?!?  This isn’t the plan I had made in my perfect world. 

After Jason was off work he came to the hospital and brought the bag that I had already packed at home.  We were both so excited!  The doctor said they would give me a sleeping pill, so I could sleep that night.  At midnight they would use cervidil to “ripen my cervix”, then pitocin drip in the morning to get contractions going.  Well, I was a nervous wreck.  I didn’t sleep a wink, although I tried.  I remember there was a baseball world series that evening and everyone else was so into the game, but I could not focus or concentrate on anything. 

During the night, I quickly dilated and got an epidural pretty early on, due to the nurses’ insistence.  I remember the anesthesiologist not being very friendly.  He was about to do a c-section and they were waiting on him due to mine.  He had to stick me several times to get the epidural in exact placement.  It felt like a shooting pain all the way through me.  Not fun, but ahhh, was so much better when the epidural took affect.  I wanted the room very quiet, did not want people in there with me much.  Which was a feat when it came to my family, which is quite large. 

I continued to dilate very quickly and was a complete 10cm by about 10am.  The nurses kept checking me, but Kylie’s head did not want to engage.  It was after 12pm before the doctor finally arrived.  I had already attempted pushing for about an hour, with no success.  Her heart rate was falling at times; they placed oxygen on me and changed my positions.  The doctor manipulated her head and that caused her to get even further distressed and she passed a bowel movement, also know as meconium and her heart rate fell again.  This prompted them to call NICU to be there as she was delivered and the doctor went into action.  He used a vacuum suction, but was unsuccessful, then he used forceps.  I remember him manipulating the forceps and although I never felt real pain, there was a tremendous amount of pressure.  It felt so animalistic as my hips were being pulled back and forth trying to get her though my pelvis.  It was unlike anything I have ever experienced.   But finally, she was born.  Kylie Nicole Evans, was a healthy baby girl.  She weighed 7lbs 5oz and was absolutely perfect, besides the big bruise on her forehead and cheek, and later I learned also had her collar bone broken during the delivery. 

We bonded instantly, it was perfect.  Jason and I looked at each other and could not believe she was ours.  She was the first granddaughter for both our parents, so she was an instant celebrity.  I truly had never seen a baby as angelic as she was.  I loved her so much.  I was on cloud nine, adrenaline going and so happy to be a new mom and continue our fairy tale. 

The rest of our hospital stay was fairly uneventful, but I was “hearing babies cry” often at night.  Almost like imagining babies crying, although they were not.  I would ask Jason, do you hear that and he did not.  Thankfully Kylie was a fairly content baby and was calm most of the time.  I remember the day we were released, I was so apprehensive, and afraid we could not do this, I probably would have preferred we stayed but it was time to leave.  I was in a lot of pain.  Due to the traumatic delivery, I had suffered a 3^rd degree tear and using the restroom or even sitting was very painful.  I was also breastfeeding and my nipples were raw and bleeding.  I remember being overwhelmed with my own recovery that it seemed overwhelming to have to take care of a baby as well.  Breastfeeding felt very isolating, since I was the only one who could feed the baby, I had trouble resting, because I was so anxious that I would miss her feeding or not hear her when she needed me.  In hindsight, I had so many people around me to help, but put so much pressure on myself that I had to do everything.  I couldn’t stand the house to be messy at all, everything had to be perfect for my baby.  About a week after her birth, I started spiraling downhill.  Life seemed overwhelming. 

I remember when my milk came in about 4-5 days after she was born.  It was tremendously painful and no matter how much she nursed I always seemed engorged.  Was I doing it right, what was wrong with me?  Was she eating enough?  This was yet another insult on my body that was out of my control.  I remember taking her to one of her pediatrician appointments and being an absolute wreck.  Every time I had a bowel movement, it was agony due to my episiotomy, I was not sleeping well and breast feeding was so difficult.  The pediatrician turned her attention on me and gave me things to do to ease of the pain, all the while encouraging me to keep breastfeeding. 

My mom was staying with me during most of this and she was great, but also made it more difficult because she had 7 children, most of us natural and had always breastfed and was very much an advocate for it.  How can I compare to that?  She even had the last 2 with home births, a “superwoman” in the birthing world.  I felt so inadequate.  I began to have less and less restful sleep and did not seem to get in the deep sleep pattern that I needed.  Jason was back to work after the first week.  I began to get depressed, although others might not have recognized it.  I wasn’t the lie around and cry sort of depressed, it was more internal to me.  I have always been able to hold my emotion in and usually releasing it as it begins to boil over eventually.  I began having weird dreams and I remember lying in the bathtub, which I did often to help my bottom pain.  I had a scary thought of dying in the bathtub by making myself drown.  I found out later that this is actually impossible to do, but it became an obsessive thought of mine.  Never in my life have I felt this scared or had thoughts such as this. 

I had been in contact with my doctor many times to get medications adjusted and help with my symptoms.  But he did not know the full extent to which I was crashing, nor did I.  Sometime in the midst of all of this I began to get very delirious and my mind kept playing tricks on me.  I was having visions of blood and horror.  I then had a horrifying thought, what if I hurt my baby?  Could I do this?  The thought in and of itself was mortifying.  I then began to obsess about this.  What would I do, how would I hurt her, as if to figure it out so I wouldn’t do it.  I would lie in bed with her sleeping in next room, terrified.  I loved her so much and would do anything in my power to protect her, how could I be thinking this?  I did not want to share this with anyone. I was a horrible, awful person.  It didn’t help that there was a mom in the news recently that had just drowned her children in a bathtub, really!!!!!!   How could anyone do this, was I capable of that?  As the sleep deprivation continued, I became more and more frightened.  I remember watching a TV evangelist talk one night and although I have no recollection of what he was talking about now, I thought he was talking directly to me.

I had always been raised in a very Godly home and God is who you go to when you are in pain or distress.  But at that time, my mind was too messed up to determine what God was trying to tell me.  I craved for verses that would get me out of this mess, but I couldn’t break the bondage that my mind was placing on me.  It was then that I knew I needed help.  I had a full-blown panic attack during this time.  I was sure I was going to die.  I became extremely anxious and insisted Jason bring me to the hospital.  Poor guy, rushed me to the hospital speeding, and I think he thought I was dying too.  I was hyperventilating, heart pounding, scared to death.  After I arrived and was in a “safe place” and away from my baby, I fell asleep.  As soon as I got to an exam room, I fell fast asleep.  I think the staff knew what was happening.  I was discharged after lab work was done and vitals had calmed down and was told to follow up with my doctor. 

Arriving home, I was not better; I started back in the same patterns as before.  I finally had it, several days latter.  I insisted that my mom take me to the hospital to be admitted.  I needed a break away from the baby that I truly loved.  She was terrifying to me in that moment.  I was afraid my thoughts could become reality and knew I needed help.  I was admitted to the ICU in which I worked, how much more humiliating could this be.  I was fortunate enough to have very good nurses and friends who tried to protect my dignity.  I was on a high when I arrived, almost manic.  On the outside I looked somewhat pulled together, but after some questioning, you could see my life was falling apart inside of me.  I wanted to tell everyone what I truly thought of them, almost like my inhibitions were unguarded.  I was on suicide watch and since I was a nurse, knew that I would be looked on as a “crazy”.  I asked for my nurses to be mothers as I hoped they would have some understanding of the situation.  How could I ever go back to work in this ICU?  I did not care at the time, I needed help, but this did add to the stress.  A guardian angel was brought in my life, a coworker who had been through very similar situations.  I did not know her, but one of the nurses in the ICU asked her if she could come talk to me.  We bonded instantly.  She understood the hell I was facing.  I remember asking her, “Will my relationship with my daughter ever be normal?”, she cried and assured me it would.  I just could not see it through the darkness at the time.  She gave me hope that life could be normal, although at the time, it was very bleak and scary.

After a couple days in the ICU, I was transferred to a psychiatric hospital.  It was not one of the more upper class types, it was downtown and had some very sick people instituted.  How could I have gotten to this place? Why me?  How was it fair that a new mom go through this hell on earth?  Would I ever love my daughter like I was supposed to?  I knew in my heart I would and could not hurt her, but my mind was telling me otherwise.  I was hospitalized for 10 grueling days.  It was sort of an out of body experience.  How could I burden my family with this, what did they think of me?  I knew I was letting my husband down, with all the burdens of working, taking care of a newborn and having a crazy wife.  I had let him down, broken this parenting covenant we had.  How low can my life get?

As the days continued, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and finally succumbed to taking my doctors advice and letting go of control, that I foolishly thought I was in control at the time.  This is when I started getting better.  I took the medication as prescribed and did a full-time outpatient therapy program, but I was able to be with my baby again and not be scared.  Over the next few months’ life began to normalize again.  I realized the thoughts were just that, thought and that I was truly obsessing over them.    I went through therapy and discussed issues I had internalized from my upbringing, things I didn’t know had bothered me as much as they had.  It was a long healing process. 

I look back at all of this, almost as a bad dream. Probably suffering some post-traumatic stress from the experience.  But I am here to tell you can make it through this! Seek out help and talk to those around you, they want the best for you.  Do not be ashamed of the feelings you have, no matter how scary they are, you have to talk about it. 

My life is so much better than I could even have imagined.  I have 2 beautiful little girls, Kylie age 7 and Katelyn age 4.  I love them so much and we are HAPPY.  I have written this to hopefully reach out to someone that might be going through the same thing.  You are not alone in this journey.  I hope others do not judge me merely based on these events, as I had the courage to seek help and knew when I was in trouble.  God has helped me see past this and overcome this mountain in my life and He wants you to find the same joy in your life if you just accept Him and the help He brings to you.  I want to thank the special people in my life that helped me through (you know who you are).