He was born in 2013. I had had 2 children already and had my
share of issues after each. After my first however is when I had my first hypo
manic episode. The Doctors mistook it for severe anxiety, postpartum depression
and sleep deprivation. Little did I know
it was only the beginning. But even after
my 2012 Bipolar 2 Disorder diagnosis and becoming pregnant with baby #3, I
still thought to myself ‘I got this. I’ll take the antidepressant right after
the birth and I’m good’. I thought I was informed enough about my illness to
know what to expect.
But as we all know life is and always will be, unpredictable.
The birth was very traumatic. We barely made it to the
hospital with my water breaking in the car. Had I pushed correctly while on the
drive I would have given birth in the car but thankfully we made it. With zero
time for meds, within 3 pushes he was here. 8 lbs, 8 oz’s. He was beautiful.
Very soon after the birth I had the typical exhaustion that
comes after such a traumatic event. And the pain was no less than overwhelming
because I had a level 4 tear (front to back). After about 30 minutes or so I started
to feel like I was unraveling a little so I asked my husband to get my meds. In
the meantime I loved on my new munchkin. He was absolutely wonderful and I was
so in love with him. I still am. Later
in the night I began to notice that I couldn’t concentrate on any one thing for
very long. I also was having a hard time going to sleep. I just assumed it was
normal ‘postpartum stuff’. All went well and then it was time to go home. I was
so stoked to get out of the hospital. On the way, I remember looking out the
window and feeling so euphoric. I should have seen the signs, but the insight
just wasn’t there. I truly wasn’t prepared. Once we got home my Mother who was
visiting agreed to watch the baby so I could nap. Which I did. But when I woke
up shortly after, I knew my world had come crashing down. I felt just as I had
after my first. And now that I knew I had bipolar 2 disorder I knew this had to
do with that. I called my psychiatrist and he told me I was having a mixed hypo
manic episode. The anxiety was so severe that my stomach had a permanent knot
which kept my appetite hostage. I didn’t know why this was happening when I had
taken the meds as planned. I had no clue what bipolar disorder really was. Until now.
After becoming hypo manic I couldn’t continue on the
antidepressant alone because it would surely make the mania worse. But what
that meant was that postpartum depression was inevitable and it would come
quicker. Which it did. Hard. It was the first time in my life that I understood
what ‘major depression’ really was. I was in a bubble of suffering that I could
not get out of. It was the first time ever; that I thought about dying by my
own hands. Those thoughts pestered, harassed and enveloped me so much and so
often that on more than a few occasions I wondered if I could do this. My
psychiatrist could time my daily phone call by the second.
Once I realized that I was in ‘this thing’ for the long haul
I decided I was desperate. It was ‘survival mode’. I had to form a battle plan.
I knew my Mom was leaving soon because she had come to stay earlier. The baby
ended up being a week late. I dreaded her leaving. So my first line of defense
was not being alone. I couldn’t ask my husband to take any more time off then
he did, but he would be able to come home earlier. So if I could be with
another or other adults until he got home then I knew having that support
system was going to be invaluable. Plus it would make time fly for me in order
for me to get well faster. I had
formed a connection of people and friends where we lived so I asked ‘all’ of them(yes, ALL) to come visit me
in shifts so I wasn’t alone very often or for very long. A few of them did not
step up but one friend in particular actually changed my entire viewpoint of
friendship altogether when with 3 kids of her own she made it her job to come
and take care of me and even help with my
kids almost daily. I am eternally indebted to her.
What’s more, I was also able to convince my mom to come
visit twice within a two month period so that I could get help with the baby,
sleep, and also get out of the house to go to therapy or the store (and with
her as well). I made a spiral notecard book with affirmation quotes to refer to
when I was having a bad moment, hour or day. I was determined to pull myself out of this crud come hell or high water.
And it was a long, hard, crawl. Most days I didn’t want to be alive. I would
drive my son to pre-school and vent to the parents there but then dread the
drive home and being alone with my baby who needed me 24-7. I envisioned
horrible things with everything I looked at. It was the darkest my mind had
ever gone. I began spelling things out loud to keep my mind distracted. So if a
thought would come I started to spell the streets I passed. Or my name.
Anything. Just to keep my mind distracted. I also drank a ton of water. It was
something to do with my hands to keep me busy. If I could keep moving, I was
golden. And then joyfully, and by the grace of GOD the fear began to subside,
and I could begin to see the sunlight through the clouds. I actually felt
bored. Which is the brains way of telling you that it is healing and you aren’t
afraid to be alone anymore. I prayed, meditated, did yoga, read and learned
about my illness. My husband and I took turns getting up with the baby for
feedings in the night which was also amazing and allowed me to get more sleep.
It made me feel loved and taken care of. It took 18 long months. But regardless
of how bad it was I thank GOD every day for this horrible experience. Because
it awakened my humanity. It made me see things I was complacent to before and made
me realize that you can never possibly know what anyone is going through. I
made it. And it is sad that so many Mom’s don’t after they have babies and
mental illness is involved. Just know though that there ‘is’ hope. There is a
way to beat it and come out on the other end with your fists in the air and a
smile on your face knowing you fought to get your life back and won. But most
importantly to know that you are never
alone.
-V
