My Story

D (my ex) and I decided that it was time to start trying to have a second child. I wanted them to be about two years apart...not to far and not too close.

After several months of trying the happy news arrived. I remember trying to think of a creative way to let everyone in my family know. I made C my oldest a new shirt that said 'Big Brother' across it, took a picture and sent it to everyone. Yes, I was excited. I became even more excited when I found out little H would be a boy. Yeah! I believe C and I did a happy dance in the living room when I told him. He of course didn't really understand what that really meant, but he enjoyed dancing with me and the loving attention I gave him.

Sigh...  I miss those days.

The day arrived. I gave birth with some minor difficulties, but it was long, Hard, and exhausting! I remember sometime during the pregnancy I felt hollow...I don't know how else to explain it. When they put H in my arms the first time the warm fuzzies, the joyful laugh/cry never came. I was numb, exhausted and a little shocked that I didn't seem to care that my baby was alive and breathing. I know that sounds horrible...but trust me it's only the beginning. :(
Some time later once H was checked out they gave him back to me for his first nursing session. I remember my very thought when I pressed his mouth to my breast. ' I could suffocate him with my breast', 'Wow! Wow! WHERE IN THE WORLD did THAT come from!!' I literally shook my head physically trying to get that odd, evil thought as far away from me as possible.

The next day before leaving the hospital to take H home I had my very first...in my life (at least that I can remember) uncontrollable bawl feast. I couldn't stop it. I had always been able to control my emotions in the past. I was taught throughout my WHOLE life that 'happy emotions' could be expressed but 'negative emotions' were not acceptable. (Maybe that's not how my parents meant for me to learn, but learn I did and I thought I had mastered it.) The tears just kept coming, I was crawled up on a chair, shaking, barely able to breath trying to keep up with the deep raw emotions that I had no idea where they came from or what triggered them.

The days and weeks are a blur to me now. I don't even remember how I got to the hospital the first time, but I was there. Ashamed and miserable, but also relieved that I didn't have to be around H. I was afraid of what I was feeling. The thoughts by that point had changed to feelings, desires, temptations. I was hallucinating frequently. I hated being around H but I feared or felt I would lose control if I wasn't. Being in the hospital made me feel weak. I felt so guilty for not wanting to be with my kids. What kind of mother thought this way, felt this way about her own children. I was so confused in my head. One minutes I would have moments of love towards C then I would see H and it was like I snapped.

My family though they meant well I'm sure didn't understand the first thing about PPD/A they had never dealt with anything remotely like it. I'm sure it was shocking for them to see my hollow eyes starring at nothing wondering where my mind was. My family was/is very much into the natural healing process. They didn't like that I was put on medications. I didn't like it either, it made me feel less of a person. I was beyond making rational decisions for myself and my family. I let my family tell me how to treat my illness. I went to the chiropractor, got acupuncture. Whatever they thought of I was there. They drove me it was the only way that I would get out of the house.

Fear drove me crazy, fear of the shadows, of my thoughts, my desires that weren't even my own. I knew somewhere down deep and very small was the real me. I just had to find it. I just didn't know how.

That first trip to the hospital was the first of Seven that year after H was born. All of which times I had to make it so that I was 'forced' to go. Either by my Dr's or my Bishop. I was in the hospital more than I was living in my apartment at that time.I had a councilor, but I didn't seem to be progressing. It was HORRIFIC!! I couldn't control my emotions, they were all over the place, from angry, to scared, to regretful, to hatred, to ashamed, to guilt. My thoughts bounced all over the place all of which were incredibly negative, self harming. I went from just wanting to harm myself and H to always wanting to harm C and my ex. I was completely engulf in this torments. I tried everything. Once I realized that the 'natural' wasn't working well enough I went to meds. At one point I believe I was on 8 medications at once. I was a walking zombie!

Finding a medication for me wasn't working. I felt like I had tried everything and still just kept sinking lower and lower into disparate suffocating hole. Finally as I last resort we even tried ECT treatments aka Electric Shock Treatments. I started at like 3 treatments a week, after several weeks. I went home from the hospital and went to 2 treatments ago,then down to 1. Feeling complete dispair I told my ex they weren't helping and they weren't. I went from being confused to having little knowledge. The treatments caused havoc with my memory. Short term memory gone. Still to this day I really struggle with it. My long term memory was greatly effected as well. I still have huge chunks of my past that is gone from my mind. I literally couldn't leave my house by myself. If I did...if I even went to the mailbox (which was in the middle of the parking lot of the townhouses we lived in) I couldn't remember which apartment was mine. I didn't know my address, my phone number. and like this I was supposed to be able to mother and teach a two year old and a new born.

Just before the year mark it seemed that I had run out of resources to help me with C and H. The church though they were kind and still loving could no longer take the boys when needed. My family had been burnt out as well. My ex's well they were abusive and there was NO WAY that I wasn't going to leave my boys with them ALONE EVER!! At least with all these horrible thoughts, dreams, temptations I at least didn't let that happen. Even though I was told I couldn't be alone with my kids 'Dr.'s orders' I found that I was. We were trying it out seeing if I could handle them for a week. A week, that only 7 days right. One day at a time. Well my 7:28 that first morning I was out of my 'coping' skills to calm down. H was teething and suffering. C was cranky. I'm sure from the stress of having mommy go crazy. I called my mom begging for help. She had some errands to run and then she would be by.

I don't know how much longer I lasted. I was holding H in my right arm and C in my left. We were all crying. The visions in my head were so detailed. So horrible. I felt so trapped. I couldn't get away from the images, the temptations to follow the thoughts and the voices. Out of desperation I dropped both C and H onto the floor at that moment afraid that if I didn't let them go I would do something I would really regret. It seemed almost as if time stood still for a moment. I looked at my boys quickly to see if they were okay. H just crawled in a ball crying all the harder, scared of me. C looked up at me. I had shocked him. The question and hurt in his eyes is something that I will never forget.

I ran. Ran from that living room to my closest neighbor. She didn't want to be a part of it, I knew that, but I knew that if I didn't get away from them now and get some control I would be on the news the next day. Mother killed her two innocent children and then herself. Tragic and awful. Something you only think happens in the movies or something, but this was my life. It was so real, so terrifyingly real! I was shaking so hard trying to control myself as I ran...ran away from hurting my babies. I was crying when she opened the door. I begged her to come take C and H until my mother came or my husband.

My neighbor thankfully scooped them up and took them to her house. I went back into my own house. Trying to get these emotions under control. I felt like peeling the skin off my very body I was so anxious. So distraught. I called my husband and tried to tell him what happened. He came home immediately, and as I was trying to tell him again had happened we heard a loud Bang at the door. There came into my house a complete stranger from DCFS demanding to know what had happened. I was completely honest. I was ashamed, but I knew that I hadn't hurt my boys, that I had gotten out so that they were safe. Regardless of that she took my babies anyways, I was not supposed to be alone with my kids and I and my family had not listened. It was 5 days until H had his first birthday. I was devastated I had ruined everything. I did my best and still my boys were leaving. It's so hard to try to explain the emotions of that day.

It was a nightmare!

C and H stayed in state housing for about a week. We went there to celebrate H's 1st birthday while a state worker sat and watched to make sure that I wasn't going to do anything. It was hard to enjoy the moment (not that, that wasn't challenging enough for me as it was.) That following week my parents to C and H into their home as foster parents. My ex and I was given a court date. The judges decision you have 6 month to be stable enough to care for your kids full time while on medications or you will be forced to give your kids up for adoption. WHAT!!! I did everything in my power to make sure they were still alive as safe with in the circumstances that I was in....but it wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough. Dr's didn't even know what to do with me any more. I felt like a hopeless case. I questioned why?

My parents had the kids for the next 6 months or so. I was only aloud to see the boys with supervision. I went every Saturday. I nice woman that worked for the state would pick me up and take me to my parents house. I was there for 2 hours. One of those hours was spent taking a parenting class. I hated and loved this time. I tried to learn anything and everything about how to be a better mom. From the first time I peed on this stick with the first I have had a book in my hand at night learning what to expect, and what to do if this happened. Nothing prepared me for the darkness that I was experiencing at this time.

There is one beautiful precious moment during this time while the kids were at my parents. One day when I arrived, for the first time that I can ever remember H ran towards me arms opened excited to see him. He knew me he recognized me and in that moment I felt his love me for.

How I wanted to get better for him and for C. I wanted so badly to be the 'normal' mother once again. The strict demands of the judge only seemed to cripple me more. My family became even more agree and upset about the situation. They called me a 'liar'. Said that 'I just didn't want to be a mom.' The hurt and stress that was I causing them must have been tremendous. I can see that now, but then it only added to the little voices and thoughts in my head. I didn't deserve to live. I was putting my kids, my family, my friends all through hell. They would be better off without me.

I fought this illness. I fought it hard a long. Thankfully there were moments when I knew what I had to do to keep them safe, to keep me safe. After much, thought, pray, and study. I decided to give the kids up for adoption. To give them a better life. It had already been a year and all my Dr's said that I should be well on my way to recover by now, it was only getting worse. I knew I couldn't be there like I wanted to be for my kids. I wasn't about to let my ex have them either, that would be just as bad. He would have moved in with his parents. A family full of abuse and destructive behaviors. My boys deserve something better. A happy life. A stable life. Thankfully with some help from the leaders in my church we convinced my ex that his first responsibility was with me.

The last day I got to see my children was incredibly difficult. I mean how to do you say goodbye to your children. The mixed emotions I was feeling during that time was annoying. I wanted to at least have one last good memory of my boys before I did, but I couldn't even control the voices and thought enough for that. C and H were really distracted that day. As I hugged H goodbye he couldn't wait to get out of my arms and start playing again. As I hugged C he noticed that I was crying as asked me 'why I was whining.' I didn't even have the time to ask him where he had learned that term. The state representative pulled me away and that was it.

That day in court when I had to say 'yes' to giving them up for adoption...oh my gosh I still can't talk about it.

I wish I could say that I only felt a great remorse and loss at that time when I gave up my boys for adoption, but I would be lying if I did. The relief was great. I could have these awful thoughts, feelings, and temptations, but I was not around my boys anymore and so they were safe. I had hoped that once they were out of my life the thought about them would just disappear, but they didn't do that either.

After the boys were gone I decided that I needed to make myself busy. So I got a Bishop referral to start working at the DI (Deseret Industries). I started almost immediately. I was able to fake if for I don't know half a day maybe and then I spent an hour in the bathroom crying and punching the wall because of the anxiety. Everything stupid little thing around me became a weapon in my mind. My mind wouldn't shut up! I couldn't get it to stop planning ways to off myself. I called for someone to pick me up and left work. I did however try again the next day and the next. Thankfully one of my bosses sat down and talked with me and I explained to torment that I was going through, the loss I had just been through and he was understanding. I will forever be grateful for that boss, for his willingness to work with me. I was an awful employee. Well I was great when I was working but if I had a break down or a trigger and was down for the count. Countless talking and even more missed days of works he still worked with me.

During that first year of working at the DI I tried to hurt myself twice. I was losing control of that small inner self that was willing me to do what I knew was right. Through it all I was on my meds. and going to therapy twice a week. My healing finally really began about a year and a half after having H. SLOWLY, but finally I was able to have good moments. I was able to seem a glimmer of hope. I had many bad days and then an okay day and it progressed from there. The thoughts about my boys finally almost disappeared. I started making plans for the future. Then I did something stupid. I decided to ween myself off my medications. I could do this. I didn't need them anymore. Plus my ex was complaining at least daily about the costs of be going to the dr. the meds, the therapy sessions. So I stopped thinking that I could handle it, and that way I wouldn't be putting him in more stress. I'd already done so much.

About 2 months later I was in deep once again. On Thanksgiving day I almost lost my battle. I almost let the temptation and the voices win. Almost, but I didn't. I pass the test that day. Thank heavens. I talked to my ex about needing to get back on my meds and he refused. Oh how I hated him at that time, did I mean nothing to him. Did he want me to die. I know that was my illness starting to freak out. Really he was just so tired of it all and didn't want to believe that the black wall of despair was back, but it was. I begged him for months, but he didn't budge and I was as bad as I ever was, even some of the thoughts of the boys came crashing back at me. In March I finally told him (my ex) that I was getting out. I had to, it was a life and death situation. I would die. I couldn't fight this alone on my own anymore and I knew it.

I put myself in the hospital soon after that. This time it was different. I didn't have my controlling abusive husband around calling the shots. I didn't even tell my family. Only my boss and two dear friends knew about it. Finally I was able to just let myself be taken care of. I knew what I was getting into I had been in the hospital 7 times before. I rested. I learned. I talked to my Dr. and my therapist and made plans for my future. Removing the damaging unhelpful people in my life. It was hard. I had already lost almost all my friends. My family, since my sis and bro in law took the kids and it was a closed adoption I couldn't be around when they were there....so I'd lost my family too even before I had the option to do so on my own.

I ended up in the hospital one more time. Again to rest and not worry about how I was going to cook the next meal. I needed to not worry about the basics so that I could actually rest and let myself accept the challenges I had been given. I left there finally feeling a little refreshed for the first time in over two years I had slept through the night. I had finally found something that worked. Praise heaven above I had found a combinations of meds that worked. I also started going to therapy again. The real healing began and the clouds cleared. I could see the sun on most days now. It was a joyous reunion.

I had H just over 6 years ago. In April of this year I will be celebrating life medication free for two years. I still have my ups and downs. Days when I don't see the sun so clearly, but I am not suicidal anymore and my love for my sweet C and H even though I don't get to see them seems to grow everyday. I still take supplements to help keep my mind and body in balance, and try to fit it exercise whenever possible because I know it makes me happy.

I survived. It was long and hard. I needed help. Thankfully I was able to get help.

Get help now don't wait. You are not alone! You CAN do this! One day at a time.

I am happy with the progress that I have made. When I'm having bad days and things just seem like too much I try to remember to look back and take notice to how far I've come.