Delivered: My Postpartum Battle

We left off my last post with my Dad, Dave, dropping me off at the psychiatry unit at the hospital that I was a current employee at.  I think having been a current employee made it 100x harder for me to adapt and adjust once I was taken back to the unit.  The amount of fear and shame that I felt was insurmountable.  It was intense, raw, dark, and ugly…yet here I was, open to getting answers and the help that we all knew I desperately needed.

Admitting to a psych unit is quite terrifying for someone who never had a psych history nor knows anything about the inter webs of this type of speciality.  Once I arrived, I was taken to an exam room and immediately instructed to change into paper scrubs, which I hated from the moment I heard the word “paper”.  Then all of your clothing is washed in the hospital’s washer/dryer combo.  As you’re waiting for your items to finish, the nurse begins her initial assessment, which is similar to a yearly physical at your doctor plus all of the psych questions.  My clothes took an hour-ish to finish and in the meantime I was hanging out in my new room.  The majority of the rooms on this unit have two beds per room….which was a SHOCK to me. Not only did I consent to coming to the hospital to seek treatment, but I also “consented to” having a roommate…which at the time, I was unaware of.  I wasn’t an anxious person to the point of it affecting my daily life prior, so this new level of anxiety was crippling to me.  Then add, the hospital setting and having a roommate 8 feet from my new bed.  I was terrified.  

Something also interesting about this unit was visitation, which I was also shocked to learn wasn’t daily.  We had visitation hours Tuesday, Thursday, & Saturday for 2 hours and it could be split among two visitors.  I had my Dad and my husband as my two consistent visitors.  My best friend Kelly was also able to attend visitation several times and it was amazing to have her presence. Although it wasn’t as much visitation as I would have liked, I am so so grateful that I was allowed to have visitors! 

My first two roommates were very quiet and nice women, however we did not speak much.  The second one and I were actually reunited at the day program we both completed, after discharge from the hospital. That was a super cool experience to know someone who was in the hospital at the same time as myself, and to see her progress through her own journey.  The third roommate was someone I absolutely needed to meet at that time. 

She was 22 at the time, so much younger than myself, however we were able to connect about our depression and many other issues as well. She was resilient and had a fire in her spirit. It was interesting to me that she shared the complete opposite beliefs that I did, yet we were able to talk daily about things so deep that most people couldn’t relate.  I began carrying my Bible around everywhere. It became, and always has been, my lifeline but at that time I didn’t put it down.  One day, and still to this day I have no clue when, she got ahold of my bible and left me 12 encouraging Post-It notes all throughout my bible. It had to be the day before I discharged or that morning, but I NEVER saw them! I got home from the hospital and that night I grabbed my Bible. I was greeted by 5 bright, teal Post-Its in the immediate casing of the Bible.  I immediately began to cry.  I had just met this girl one week ago and she was so caring and loving to step out of her own beliefs, meet me where I was, and leave me those sweet notes.  I will never forget this and 5 of those Post-Its still live in my Bible currently.  The rest went into a box with a few other items during my PPD journey.  Sadly, I lost touch with her and I haven’t been able to find her yet…but I’m not giving up hope on that!

By Day 3 in the hospital, I was somewhat coming around as far as talking to other patients and nurses. For the first time in my life, those first 3 days were pretty silent. I know! For those of you who know me, you’re shocked! On day 3, we had multiple group exercises in therapy sessions and it was time that I start engaging if I wanted to find healing and my purpose again.  I got to meet several awesome therapists and learn from quite a few of the patients.  It’s like that Elevation Worship song, Graves into Gardens, that says “you give beauty for ashes”.  I was so broken, so empty, and so depleted yet I knew in my soul that if God could raise Jesus from the grave then He could absolutely be my strength and refuge during this time.  And boy did He show up!!!

The elephant in the room when it comes to mental health always seems to be, suicide.  As a born-again Christian, I never in a million years would have thought that I was ever capable of having suicidal thoughts. However, I have learned, that our psyche is very complex and that when you are in that place, those are not your rational thoughts. For myself, it was never that I wanted to end my life or harm myself. However, suicide felt like it was the only way out of this hell-hole.  I would tell Chris, “go, take the baby and go. You deserve better. You need a wife that is present and a Mom that is a good Mom. I just want this to end. I’m done with this life.”  Those are things that I never would imagine even saying to him.  Even typing them now, makes me feel nauseous.  When I began having these intrusive, suicidal thoughts on a daily basis, we all knew that I truly needed professional help as soon as possible.  Once on the unit, I was able to share with two of the therapists there that I was struggling with these thoughts and how they were affecting my day to day function. Being able to open up to my third roommate about it was so relieving. It almost made it peaceful to talk about, because I knew that she would not judge me nor would she look down at me.  

As far as suicide is concerned, I think it’s time to smash the stigma and address this topic that continues to take lives on a daily basis.  Suicide is nothing to be ashamed of. It is nothing that should change how you view or treat someone.  We all have our inner demons, whether its financial issues, personal insecurities, drinking, drugs, suicidal thoughts, or other mental health issues.  Suicide is something that I think truly needs to be addressed in order to save others from committing this act and also to provide a way for them to progress through their healing and break the stigma. 

For anyone reading this, if you are struggling with suicidal thoughts or have a plan, please do not hesitate.  You can call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988.  Stay tuned as we keep digging through my inpatient journey! 

The best is yet to come…I promise!

XX

Athena