LONG and VERY personal

I have debated for a few weeks now as to whether I would share this with you all. After I read something very similar that one of my very best friends in the whole world posted, I decided I was ready. Well sort of. (no spelling or grammar police please)! :)

My hope in sharing this with you is that you don’t feel sorry for me, that you don’t look at me like a crazy person, I want you to know that if you feel the same way- you are not alone. I want you to know that a lot of people that you may think are happy all the time may just be putting on a brave face to make it through the day. So here goes…

6 (well almost 7) years ago when I had my daughter I suffered from post partum depression in silence. I never told anyone about it, not my family, not even my doctor. I thought I could just “get over it”, I thought that people would think I was just being emotional. I never “got over it”.

Flash forward to October 17, 2013, aka the start of the 16 days that my world came crashing down.

My son was born 3 and a half weeks early, and wasn’t as ready as the doctors and nurses though he would be based on his size and his “breathing” activity during the ultrasound the day before. As most if not all of you know, we had a rough 2 weeks after he was born; ventilator, multiple chest tubes, followed by feeding tubes, followed by weight loss etc. Those 2 weeks were the most devastating and scary time of my life. I didn’t sleep, I was forced to eat, I cried so much I couldn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t walk into his empty bedroom and had to keep the door shut. (I did sit outside the door when nobody was home and cried into his blanket and stuffed bear). I felt like a zombie. I shut down. I didn’t want to shower, I didn’t want to play with my daughter, I didn’t want to see my friends let alone give updates on the baby every 5 minutes on the phone. On November 2, 1013 my son came home. I thought this would change everything. I thought my world would regain some of the normal it once was. I knew I had post partum depression again, but this time I thought there was a pretty good reason, and again kept my mouth shut and never said a word to my family or my doctor.

Now let’s jump to this past summer. And this is where it gets hard for me to even type.

I think it was around the end of May or beginning of June that I finally broke. I don’t remember a whole lot from those summer months. I remember crying every single day. I remember crying myself to sleep every single night. I cried in the shower, I cried to my parents, I cried to my husband, I cried to my kids. I stopped going out with my family. I stopped playing outside with my kids. I would lay on the couch and sleep every afternoon. When I did work, I just went through the motions of putting on a happy face and walking out the door. I stopped cooking dinner, I didn’t even want to get up to feed my children.

Then there was the anxiety. I began to stay awake all night and watch the baby sleep. In my mind, if I slept he would stop breathing. If I wasn’t there to watch him, he would not make it through the night. Every night I relived that NICU stay, I would close my eyes and it was like we were still there. I started having nightmares when I did try to sleep. One week I watched the baby and my daughter sleep. I started to not want the baby out of my sight. The thought of him with my parents or my husbands’ parents terrified me. What if they don’t see him and he is choking? What if he swallows a toy? What if they drop him? What if he gets a fever and they don’t have medicine for him? These are the thoughts that would go through my head every time he was away from me. 

August 2014- or as I like to call it the second worse time of my life (1^st still being the nicu stay for the baby).

This is the part that nobody other than my family knows. I got depressed, not like I talked about above, I mean REALLY depressed. I wished I was dead. I thought my husband hated me. I wished I never had kids. I would pray every night that God would help me to feel better, but everyday I felt worse. I started thinking that my family would be better off if I was dead. Why would they want this sad, pathetic excuse for a person around anyway? Why won’t they help me? Why won’t anyone listen to me? I sob every night in bed, why won’t my husband come and comfort me? Why do people say that I just want attention? Why doesn’t anyone care about me anymore? How did I let this happen to me? 24 hours a day 7 days a week for 2 months this is how I felt. I thought about self harm, I thought about leaving my husband, I thought about driving my car off a cliff. Then one day, I talked to my Mom.

She said she could see that I was not ok. She could see that for the past year I have been off and totally not myself at all. She told me I needed help and that I needed to call the doctor NOW.

So I did. I called my doctor and made an appointment. I wanted to get better, I missed being happy. I needed to talk to someone who didn’t know the whole story and wouldn’t judge me. Do you know how hard it is to admit something like all of this to your parents and you husband? How would it feel if they didn’t think you were sick? Well that’s what happened next. My husband, whom I love more than life, thought I wasn’t depressed. He thought I was hormonal. He thought I didn’t need medicine and I didn’t need to see a therapist. I begged him to open his eyes and see that this was not a joke, I begged my Mom to talk to him. She did. To this day, I have NO idea what was discussed. I know they were talking in my parents backyard for a long time. And I know that when they were done, Dave got it. He has seen me like this for so long that this was my “normal” to him. That’s crazy. Growing up and even when Dave and I met, I was happy, so happy that it was ridiculous. The way I was for the last 7 years and especially this past year is not me, this is not how I want my husband to think I am, this is not how I want my kids to think of me.

I went to the doctor. Cried and cried and cried some more. That was about 2 months ago. He put me on medicine (which at first I was embarrassed about), and gave me the official diagnosis of- Major Depressive Disorder w/ Anxiety and Mild Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (related to my son’s start at life and how I handled everything for the first 9 months of his life).

If you are still reading, thank you. If you feel depressed, talk to someone. Please don’t ever let yourself get to the point I was at. I scared myself, and I’m sure scared the living daylights out of my family.

I’m not perfect, but at least I’m getting my happy self back! 

My decision to only have 2 kids

Growing up, I wanted 4 kids at least. When I got married I still wanted a large family. Being an only child with your only 1st cousin being 20 years younger was tough. I always wished I had siblings. After I had my daughter 6 years ago, my ideas of having lots of kids changed!

You may be asking yourself; What was so bad about your daughter that made you change your mind? The answer is not a thing! I decided then that maybe I really only wanted 1 child, and I was fine with that. I could devote every minute to making sure she knew how much I loved her. I could devote all of my time being the best Mom I could be. There are reasons for these feelings.

You see, when my daughter was born, she almost died. When you are a new Mom that had an uneventful pregnancy, aside from a subchorionic bleed when I was 3 months pregnant, you never imagine that you child will be born with a major defect. My daughter was born and didn't come out crying as I always imagine. Even though this was 6 years ago, it seems like yesterday. I constantly relive that day. She was blue, really really blue. I remember laying on the operating table watching them try making her "wake up". I remember saying over and over "is she ok", or "why isn't she crying". I remember they all kept saying "just focus on you, she will be ok". They kept standing in front of my face so I couldn't see. A few minutes later (which felt like an eternity), she cried, they wrapped her up and let me kiss her. Dave was able to hold her while they finished my surgery. We went to recovery and my parents were able to come back and see us. They held her, and I held her. It was amazing. 20 minutes later everything changed.

My Mom looked at me and said "she looks blue". I said (on a lot of pain meds), "she is fine". But Mom kept saying it over and over until the nurse stepped in. She put her stethoscope on the baby, and ran to the phone. When I say ran, she RAN. I have no clue who she called or what she said, I was so scared. She hung up, grabbed the baby from my Mom and listened again. Before I knew it, the baby was taken to the NICU.

The Neonatologist came by shortly after to talk to Dave and I. He said the babies heart rate was approaching 300 beats per minute. When the nurse called them, she said she stopped counting at 270 because she couldn't keep up with it. He told us they had her wrapped in ice, and on an IV. Shortly after her arrival there, they managed to get it under control, but if we waited much longer, she would have died. For her first year, we had cardiologist appointments, Digoxin twice a day, and we had to constantly listen to her heart rate. At 1 year old, she was cleared of her SVT.

It took me 4 years to be ready to have another child. We started feeling like there really was something missing. Bella was about 4 and a half when we began trying for number 2. We had no idea it would be so difficult to get pregnant the second time. It was over a year of doctor appointments, 2 pregnancy losses, and we were just about to give up when we found out we were pregnant.

Again other than some nausea, an uneventful pregnancy. He was also born via c-section, but 3 weeks early because I went into labor. he came out screaming and crying and I was elated. I watched them clean him up, check him over and I watched him stop breathing. How can this be happening again? Luckily the Neonatologist was already there because they wanted to observe him in case he also had SVT. He didn't. His lungs were not developed. Well, at first they said he had fluid in his lungs and would need to be on CPAP for a few days, then he developed a pneumothorax on his left side. The doctors tried to use a long needle and aspirate it, but it didn't work either time, it kept coming back bigger and bigger. They did a chest tube, and ventilator. He did well, and they turned off the suction. Then he started failing again. They added a second chest tube under the first and decided to let him heal and not rush. It took 1 week for the vent and tubes to come out and another week of teaching him to eat, and gain weight. When he was 15 days old we came home, the day before my due date.

It is now officially safe to say that there will be no more babies to be had by me! Emotionally I could never go through having another sick baby. After 2 babies almost die, then come out strong, we are way to blessed to chance it again. I have my girl and my boy and I am more than satisfied with that!

Dealing with Chaos...

 

When I was pregnant with my son, I never imagined the chaos that would begin in my house (life). Those of you who have known me pre-babies, you know how I love a clean, and organized house. Even as a Mom of one child, my house was always clean and tidy. Today is a totally different story..

I can barely remember to take clothes out of the wash, I can barely remember when the last time I really cleaned at all. I try, I really do, but as soon as 3:00 in the afternoon hits, the house is wrecked again. Books, boots, jackets, backpacks (both my daughters and my husbands), dishes, garbage to be brought out etc etc.. everyday.

Now, I'm not saying that a house shouldn't be lived in or enjoyed, but I'm also not saying that Mom should be the only one to clean up the mess. How do people do it? How are some houses so perfect all the time?!

I created a cleaning chart. Each day has a specific chore, with everyday having the basics. (beds made, kitchen cleaned, living room picked up). I think this will help make it not so overwhelming. I want to spend more time with my kids in the evening and not scrubbing the stove because my husband tried to make dinner and now there is sauce on my walls..

Another thing I never thought would happen to me- I am perfectly content staying in pajamas, yoga pants, or an ugly nightgown all day, every day. I will change to clean sweat pants to pick up my daughter at school, and get dressed up to go to work, but I want comfort always.

I learned to go out without makeup on (still always wear mascara and eyeliner), I have my messy, and my nails are not perfectly polished everyday anymore. It has become so common for me to look like this that when I put makeup on or do my hair, my daughter asks me where I'm going, or my husband does a double take and wonders what I'm up to..

I need to start remembering to take care of myself. I need to start “looking pretty” again. I need this house clean!

This starts now..ok well in an hour at my hair appointment!

What do you need to re-focus on?

What you see isn't always what you get..

Totally Random Thoughts for the Morning-

When you meet people, you often think you know all about them based on how they present themselves (looks, attitude etc). As humans we tend to flock to people that are like minded. Mom’s tend to hang out with other Mom’s, married couples like to be friends with other married couples etc. This has me thinking about myself. I have a handful of great friends, a few best friends and a couple of ladies that I consider my sisters. I wonder what people think about me when they first meet me? I’m sure I can come across as a bit stand offish at first, I may look like a snob, I sometimes look like a soccer mom, my appearance changes based on where I am and what I am doing.

Here are some random facts about me that you may not know:

1. I have 10 tattoos
2. I used to work at a hospital in the ICU, and one of my jobs was to bathe people that passed away before their families came to see them one last time.
3. I have only been in 2 long term relationships.
4. I have been friends with some of my friends since we were 6/7 years old.
5. I was diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder when I was 25. When I have anxiety, I sometimes pull my hair out.
6. I am terrified of bees, and when I hear one or see one I run indoors.
7. I love going on scary rides at amusement parks, but I sometimes will cry (or even start to faint), when waiting in line. I even rode Kingda Ka, which is the tallest, fastest roller coaster in North America. (0-128mph in 3,5 seconds).
8. I have seen the Dave Matthews band around 28-30 times.
9. I camped out on the streets of Albany for N*Sync tickets when I was in college. (not my proudest moment).
10. If you ever watched Mad TV, I can do a perfect Miss. Swan impression, especially after a drink or 2.
11. I can memorize any song or movie after hearing or seeing it once (sometimes twice)
12. I hate touching raw poultry or pork, and I used to have to wear gloves when I cooked it.
13. I love going to the beach, but will not swim in the water.
14. I can remember everything from any point in my life. (this is a good and bad thing)!
15. I like to buy “as seen on TV stuff” and when I was a kid I used to watch infomercials on a regular basis.

What do you think you are putting out there when you meet someone? What are some things about you that nobody would ever guess?

Just ponder that on this cold Monday!

Love the One You're With

Did you ever think about how lucky you really are?

For many years, I took advantage of what I have all around me.  I have amazing friends, a wonderful, supportive family, amazingly beautiful children, and a husband who is my best friend.

This post is all about my husband.

Dave and I met in 2004. Like many new relationships, we were pretty much attached at the hip right from the beginning. I was 22, he was 29. I was living at home with my parents, he had his own place in the same neighborhood. At first, we went out here and there, but we talked on the phone everyday, and at night if I didn’t see him we would stay up and talk for hours on the phone. (A few times we talked over 6 hours)! Pretty shortly after we were dating, Dave asked me to live with him. Of course I said yes, I mean I was basically living there already! Less than a year later we got engaged, married the following year, and the rest is history.

We had our daughter very shortly after we got married. We didn’t have the “newlywed” phase that I always here about, we didn’t get to go on our 1 year anniversary honeymoon because I was 8 months pregnant, but you know what? I wouldn’t change anything.

For a while I was jealous of my friends that traveled, bought houses, went out anytime they felt like it, basically resentful just because they were acting like early 20 something’s and I was a wife and a Mom.  I became pretty depressed, and I hid it from everyone, including my husband. I learned that there comes a point where you just can’t keep depression or anxiety from your spouse. At some point, they are either going to figure it out, or they are going to think you are just nuts. I’m pretty sure Dave thought both! Once I learned how to cope, I realized that my life was pretty darn good.  I wasn’t jealous anymore, I was happy and content with my own life.

By no means am I saying my marriage is perfect or ideal! Trust me, we have had lots of up’s and loads of down’s, but our love has always stayed strong. Dave understands me, he knows I have my moments, (he has them too), and even through those moments, he still loves me. Sometimes I think about everything we have been through in the last 2 years, and I wonder how on earth he could still love me, but he does. 

What I don’t think he knows, is how much I really appreciate him. The man works 6 days a week, comes home and takes care of 2 kids so I can work, relax or even go to bed. He supports every single crazy idea I have. He stands up for me when others don’t. He lets me cry, and gives me space when I don’t want to talk about why I’m crying. He lets me vent. He even sometimes picks up his own mess! All joking aside, he is a pretty awesome guy, and he isn’t bad to look at either (especially with his manly beard)!

So-

Dave if you are reading this (which you better be reading my blogs!), thank you for loving me. Thank you for supporting my goals. Thank you not giving up on us, when I was ready to. Thank you for giving me 2 stellar kids. Thank you for making me your wife. I love you sugar lips!