Get latest updates about SEO
*** Warning . Long post! *I'm beginning to enjoy the sunrise each day again. It's been a long time. Today I cleaned my house. I got up, I showered. I put on fresh clothes. I did some laundry, I washed the dishes. I walked into my bedroom, and peered into my tiny little gals bed, and couldn't wait to see her eyes flutter open, and give me that first of the morning cheesy grin. I have loved life,For many years! I have had my share of hard times, just like everyone else, but I still managed to smile, still managed to make it through and come out stronger, every single time. I have gone through many happy, successful, healthy pregnancies, and delivered all my children healthy, without EVER Experiencing the darkness that took over my soul. It's time now, to tell my story. Not for attention, or comments, or likes, but because my road to healing has many steps, and telling my story is just one of them. From the very beginning, this last pregnancy was different from all the rest. I never knew. I used to be one of those women who would watch that show on TV where women would deliver children they never knew they were pregnant with and shake my head, thinking "yeah right" "how could they not know"... until it happened to me in a sense. From the very beginning it took me by surprise. I look back now, and realize that I had seen the signs, fairly early, but didn't recognize them at the time for what they were. This pregnancy, started off with depression. I'm not sure if it was just the sheer shock of finding out I was unexpectedly pregnant AGAIN.. or if there was more to it. At the time in my life, when I found out I was even pregnant with Lainey, I was already struggling to balance just my daily life with five busy children and a husband to care for. I cried for days. How could I do this again? I was already so tired and stretched so thin. I had only gone to the doctor in the first place, because I couldn't figure out why my emotions and stress levels were so uncontrolled. It's an embarrassing feeling to know, you can't control the way you get angry so quick, or how sad you are feeling. I would criticize myself silently for my behavior, knowing that this person I was isn't who I used to be. Isn't who I wanted to be. This pregnancy was so unlike all my others , that even up until the very moment I was bent over the table having a epidural, because I had to deliver VIA emergency c-section it still felt like a dream. Two weeks into the 4th month of my pregnancy,I discovered, purely by chance that I was expecting yet again. I had my life planned out. In my mind, Gracie,my two year old,was my very last, and she was treated as if she was. I went overboard with everything about my pregnancy with her for many reasons, first because she was my first baby after having two miscarriages in a row. (This is why she was named Gracie. She was my gift from God. My miracle baby. My rainbow child. A little token of Gods "grace".) And second, because her being my last, was part of my plan. My plan for the rest of my life. Now being raised in the fine church I was, I should have known better then to plan out my life, when it's really God who's In charge in the first place. I lost sight of that and made my own plan. Sometimes God likes to make us laugh, but that was not the case this time. I was having another baby, and I was already sick! The beginning of the pregnancy started of fairly easy. Besides just a little morning sickness through the rest of the 4th month, everything was pretty easy. I found out so late I was having her ,that before I knew it, it was already time to find out the sex of the baby. I prayed for a girl! For only one reason! Because I still had all Gracie's stuff and I wouldn't have to spend any money on new! For once, God actually gave me what I wanted and I was beyond relieved to find out she was another girl. Everything seemed ok! I was doing alright. I was so scared to tell anyone I was expecting again, because I knew I would face a lot of judgement, and ridicule for "having ANOTHER baby", but To my surprise, it wasn't as bad as I thought and I really just had a few people say things they should have kept to themselves! As my pregnancy progressed, each doctor visit was much like the last. Everything was good, baby was growing. I wasn't feeling too bad physically, and I finally started to feel like maybe this being pregnant again, wasn't so bad. It wasn't until Christmas Eve of last year, that I began having troubles. One day I was fine, the next I wasn't. Thus beginning what I like to say was the "worst part of it all". The next thing you know, my blood pressures wouldn't stay stable, there was all kinds of kidney and liver issues I was starting to have, and there I was going to the hospital 4 out of 7 days of the week, for extra testing and bloodwork. This is when I believe my first taste of depression began. So much stress, so little time. So many miles. The next thing I knew the ob was calling me, at 35 wks pregnant letting me know they had possibly detected a heart problem in my tiny baby girl. At first the testing was looking good, but after her birth she had some more done, confirming her ASD. Lainey was born January 26, 2017 at 36 wks and 3 days. She was a tiny 6lbs 5 oz peanut. She came as an emergency c-section, because my blood pressure went so high they were concerned I was going to have a stroke. Both her life and my own were in danger. She had to come out. And she did. After a long 4 days at the hospital it was finally time to be heading home, but this time it was different. This time, I was filled with anxiety! Why was I so worried? I've done this plenty of time before. I knew what to do, I knew what to expect. I wasn't looking forward to it this time. I wanted to stay. Stay with the nurses, stay away from the other children, away from home where help wasn't a button push away anymore. But, I let it go, and carried on! Onward to my home, to care for this baby, and it still didn't even feel like she was already here. After we arrived home things got pretty hard. I was having problems with nursing, I had terrible swelling, my abdomen was a lot more sore than the last time, and my recovery was slow. I didn't even realize what was happening to me, at the time, but the darkness had started to set in. For many weeks I fought it! Denial is a powerful thing. I began feeling tired every day, and started sleeping a lot more. No matter what I did, I couldn't get enough rest. As time went on, Lainey's cry became a nuisance to me. I didn't feel like I was connecting with her like I should because the nursing was a disaster. I was crying all what garment to buy for that won't cost much in white color
The time. I began to feel like I was isolated in a dark room and no one cared. No one was there. I didn't even have that many visitors like the last pregnancies. Even some of our own family wouldn't come for days, and I was too sore and unstable to be driving so it wasn't like I could go seek out the company I needed. I felt for many weeks that I tried to reach out to my friends and no one was taking me seriously. I would come home from a quick trip to the store and would just sit in the car agonizing about what I was going to walk back into. I wanted nothing to do with Lainey. And not only her, but I didn't want anything to do with my other children either. They would try to comfort me, but I didn't even want them to touch me. I felt like they just took and took and took from me and I grew angry with them for being selfish. And needing me too much. I would let the baby just cry and cry. It was scary. It was awful. I hated myself, and everything about my life. All I wanted to do was run away and leave them. Never to come back. I was so ashamed about how I felt, and I knew that it was wrong, but I literally just could not help it. I was desperate. I was hopeless. I was constantly tired. I was mad because no one cared and I had spent so much of my life caring for others. I wanted to crawl in a corner, curl up in a ball, and make the world just go away. This my friends, is post partum depression. And I had it. Terribly. But I refused to admit it to myself and others. I left the world for awhile. I stopped going to church, I stopped praying. I stopped showering, getting up and doing my chores, and I wanted to quit everything, but especially, being a mom. My reality check began, early one morning, when my two year old decided, she wasn't going to pick up her toys in her room. She was stubborn. She was strong willed. She was terribly defiant. And I lost it. I literally lost my mind. I don't even remember, walking myself to the bathroom, that day. But that's where I found myself. I found myself curled up, on the hard bathroom floor, with the lights off, and a towel over my head, sobbing and crying harder than I ever have into that darkness that had suddenly become so comforting to me. I must have stayed there for what felt like hours. How could this be me. I'm Brooke! I'm super mom. I DONT get post partum depression. But there it was. It hit me hard in the face. It snuck up on me slowly like a Thief in the night. That's when I knew, I needed some help. As hard as it was to admit, I got up and took myself to the doctor the very next day. I poured my heart and soul out to that woman, and she embraced me with love, patience and knowledge. By the time I left that office, I had accepted what this was. The most important thing she said was this. "This isn't you. This isn't because of anything you've done, or anyway you've let yourself become. This is a medical condition. This is a legit chemical imbalance in your brain, and is in no way your fault." She was my savior that day. My human savior. Post partum depression is real friends. It is real, and it can happen to you. It can happen to your friends. Your family. It can happen to the weak. It can happen to the strong. If you don't take it seriously, it can affect your lives in a serious way. This is the same with regular depression. There is a misconception in the world that depression is a choice people make. It is important for me to get it out there that it isn't a choice. It's an illness. An illness that needs love and support , medication,and patience to get through. It is dark and lonely. If you know someone struggling with it, show them compassion. If there is anyone out there suffering from these types of symptoms, don't ignore it, don't be ashamed of it, and I urge you to seek out some help! On Sunday, I went to church. It was the first time I had been there in a very long time. Today I'm telling my story, in hopes that it will serve a purpose in this life, and perhaps help to someone who needs it desperately. Post partum depression took my hope away from me. It took my light and turned it to darkness, it sucked out my soul and stole my purpose. But, this morning , I came back to me, because I chose to fight for it. I chose to get help, and now I'm choosing to tell my story. It can happen to anyone. Even to someone who appears to have a great life, and be a strong person. Love each other. Love yourself enough to get the help you need, and please love me enough to share my story.
I am happy to report, I am on my way to healing. I'm not done yet, but I'm a lot closer to it than I was yesterday.
*if you've made it to the end of my story, thank you for taking the time to read this, and thank you for caring about me.
I love you all.
** if you love me, please share this post on your wall and let my story be heard! Thank you friends!