prayers and sadness

The movie theater shooting happened the day Ava was born. I was too busy recovering and processing everything that happened to pay too much attention to that.

Here I am 5 months later I am coming to grips with my PTSD. I have seen the impact this has had in many aspects of my life. Now, in the brinks of another national tragedy of the Connecticut elementary school shooting all I can think of is how these poor children are going to recover from the images they saw. The nightmares. The waking terrors and panic attacks. They are too young to have to deal with that. I guarantee that there will be a lot of students and faculty that will suffer from this for the rest of their lives. How do you comfort a small child through this? I can logically think my situation through and it gets me to a point that I can handle it. There is no logic to this. At all. I pray that these children will be able to be resilient and live a life where this doesn't leave them fearful and scared.

I'm sure that this young man had some sort of mental illness. We need to stop the stigma that mental illness means weakness. We can get help. And that is ok. It is ok to have a mental illness. Embrace it and get the help you need. We aren't meant to live in this world suffering silently. There are resources, therapy, medication that can make it manageable. It isn't going to be easy. But with the right support things like this doesn't need to happen.

husband

My husband and I had a good talk the other night. It started out simple enough. We went to Breaking Dawn. I sat there innocently enough then all of a sudden they were giving Bella a baby she hadn't met. Thats when the panic attack started. She missed those first couple days. Jake had met the baby and she didn't. That was it. I ran out of the theater and cried and cried in the hallway like a crazy person. I came back and he asked if I was ok. Nope. Not ok. But he did the best thing for me. "do you need to hold my hand." Not do I want to. Would I like to. But need. And at that moment I needed my husband. I had never needed him more in my life. Later on we were lying in bed going to sleep and then all of a sudden I coudn't control it anymore. I just started shaking. And he held me tighter than he ever had. It was the first time we really talked about how this has impacted me. I didn't realize how different I have been. But he made me feel safe for the first time in months. He acknowledged that what I'm feeling is ok. He said that we will make it through this. It was the best thing that could have happened. He isn't the one to talk to about feelings and here he is talking about nothing but emotions and mental issues. Its hard to really put into words, but I really wish we talked about this earlier.

Dream

So one of the clinical signs of PTSD is nightmares. Before I had Ava, I would have crazy dreams. But they were always light and fluffy. I was friends with everyone from Glee. I was saving a fish that was swimming in the toilet. My sister in law gave birth to a puppy. You know, the usual run of the mill dreams.

When I went to my counselor for the first time we went through all the symptoms and he asked if I had had any dreams about it. I said no. But then  I got thinking I hadn't really had many dreams since it happened. But the few I have had were a lot darker.

Well last night I had one that pretty much seals the deal that it has seeped into dreamland.

I started out in a ballroom school. I had a partner that was really good and we both were throwing hints and clues to each other as such. So I broke up with my boyfriend who I hadn't talked to in a month(I wasn't married. And Chris wasn't even the boyfriend. So I don't feel THAT bad for breaking up with him. lol). When I told my partner, he told me he was married and I should go away. So I walk forever barefoot in the snow to some hidden beach. Everything that has happened has been night, might I add. I get to the beach and start cutting my wrists with a flat head screwdriver. Then some creepy old man called me over to look at him skin a small pig. He starts taking the skin off and realized the pig is real bloated. So he squeezes its belly and poop comes out. Then all of a sudden a dead baby pops out. Then he starts freaking out because the placenta is stuck inside the pig and he broke the cord. I run away from the man. Then I woke up.

So, yea. Interpret that as you will. I feel disconnected with my husband from nursing school. I'm wanting to try to take some control in my life. And I am still struggling with my stupid uterus issues.

Ummm Yea.

So last time we conversed I had a hard time at school with chest tubes of all things.

Well, it happened again. Unfortunately. This time at clinicals. It was my last one of the semester, naturally. I had done so good. Made it through labor and delivery and postpartum. They were great. This last week I was in woman's survices taking care of mainly women who have had lady surgeries, hysterectomies, bladder prolaps surgeries, ect. But there are a few postpartum mommies if they are somewhat full over there. My postpartum mom wanted to take a shower. So I left to get some towels. I came back and she was tring to get the water warm, I looked down and she had a shower chair there with her things on it. That was it. The trigger.

When I was in the hospital recovering my big thing was that I wasn't ready to go home if I couldn't shower. I wanted to be able to shower at the hospital because I didn't want to be home and have something happen since I was so weak. I asked if they could find me a shower chair to put in there. They couldn't find one. They finally were able to get a big one on wheels. Well it didn't fit in the shower. So it did me no good. I finally showered shortly before I got discharged. It was the best and worst shower in the world. It felt so good to be in the water getting clean after 4 days in a hospital bed and giving birth. But I was so paranoid that my body would fail me again and I would pass out or something. Luckily, nothing eventful happened.

First I was paturbed angry that she had one and I didn't. Then I was upset that she didn't use it and just put her toiletries on it. Then I was angry at myself for thinking this. And then I was holding back tears. I text my clinical instructor saying I needed to talk. She came up and practically as soon as I saw her I just busted out crying. She got about 2 months worth of pent up emotion thrown at her. She was the only one who didn't know about my situation, so I'm sure I cought her off guard.

We ended up talking for about an hour. I am so glad I talked to her. She told me things about that situation that I had never really thought of. It went to a very spiritual level, which was just what I needed. She showed me parts of me that I never knew. In short, I had been so mad at Heavenly Father for letting this happen to me, I failed to notice that he was right there with me when I was in so much pain. She even said I am one of the bravests girls she has met to go through with nursing school right after that with two kids and everything else. I don't know how true that really is since she is an ICU nurse and I'm sure she sees lots of brave individuals fight for their life. But, I'll take the complament.

I really need to get back to my counseler. It through me off and was so unexpected I didn't even think to do my relaxation techniques. Thats not a good sign. And the fact that I had two pretty good attacks in just a couple days means I need to get back in control. I can't let the situation take over again. Nope. Not going to happen.

strange day

Today was strange. I hadn't had any bad flashbacks in a couple weeks. I haven't been to my counseler in a couple weeks because I've been so busy and I haven't really felt like I needed to. I've been pretty stable.

...until today.

I don't know what it was. We were talking about chest tubes of all things. That has nothing to do with a bleeding uterus. I guess it was the fact that they should be put in in the OR and it can be an emergency. I don't know. I so wanted to just get out of my seat and just run. I probably would have had it not been so cold. And the teacher was right by my desk area lecturing the entire class, and it would have just been awkward. Then I realized I should do my relaxing techniques and that calmed me down. But, ever since that happened I have just been in this funk. I hate the crappy feeling that they leave me to deal with. It just makes my day annoying. And annoying is not a good way to spend your day.

As much as I hate the panic attack filled flashbacks, I am glad I had one to show me that what I experience was a big deal. For a while now I've been thinking maybe I have just been overreacting to everything. But that showed me that I am human and it did impact me. I didn't make it up. It was real. It was raw. And I liked it. (quick name that movie).


On a slightly unrelated note, I kind of want to get my medical records of what happened. But I don't know if that will help me any or just make it worse. But now the nurse in me wants to see how everything went down from the other perspective.

Anywho, don't be boring, endulge in the morning and have some laughing cow.  I'm not getting any endorcement for that, the comercial just came on.

love and peace
Me

success

Success. I have successfuly been able to meditate and remember my event without having a panic attack. It felt so good to have control over my situation and not the other way around. I still get moments, but not nearly as bad as they were and not as frequent. I think I might be on the right track.

Guilt

I had a lovely panic attack at school last week. I was not expecting that one. We were just talking about newborns and how the first couple hours are critical for bonding. I've always known that I hate the fact that I missed out on those first precious moments. I just didn't realize just how much I did. So I talked to my counselor about it for a while. I have major guilt about not being there for her. Not being able to hold her or feed her for hours. Guilt that she had to have a bottle at first. Guilt about a lot of things. But that guilt is not warrented. It is right sided thinking. My left, logical side knows that I did the best I could in that situation. It was not a normal situation and its not like I chose to not be with her those precious hours. It does not make me a bad mom that I missed Zoey and Ava for the first time. I looked death in the eyes and was able to stay here for my family. That makes me a darn good mom. Our bonding is right on track now. She knows Im mom, and thats what counts.

fate....

I had a conversation with a friend that basically said if my whole uterus thing had to happen to someone, it couldn't happen at a better time to a better person than me right before nursing school. I had to think about it for a moment, and its true. This experience is only going to help me become a great nurse. It will guide me in my actions. Not only that, but it can be theraputic for me and give it reason. Instead of why me, its why not me. I can't really articulate how this really impacted me. But for once I'm not looking back with sorrow.

On a slightly different note, I had been contemplating if I can mentally be capable to be a labor and delivery nurse and consequently a nurse in general. But this week solidified it. We tested on labor and I totally loved it. I could see myself in the situations the questions were about. People asked how I knew so much. I love it. Pregnancy is what I am supposed to be around.

Today is a good day.

I have been going to therapy a few times now. Today was the first time I realized it might actually be doing something. I am studying for my labor and birth test and not haunted by my memories. I'm not anxious. I'm not uneasy. I'm just normal. .... So I might be on the right track.

alone

I think the hardest part of all this is feeling alone--so utterly, and terribly alone. My complication was not only really rare, but hardly talked about and acknowledged. I even had a nurse take care of me say she didn't even know that could happen. And its true. I learned about pregnancy, labor, and postpartum these last couple of weeks and it wasn't even a glimmer in the notes.

Its like I feel like no one really sees the horror I lived through....and continue to live. E.V.E.R.Y. day. I feel like if it was something a little more known people would see me as the person I am not after it happened. I know that doesn't make sense. But its how I feel. Its like if someone was in a fire, people at least have some sort of knowledge of how bad that would suck. I know they won't know the extent of it all. But they at least have some sort of base to go off of. I tell people "my uterus came out inside out" they just look at me and either don't make much more of a comment than "wow" or look at me like I am a freak of nature. Very few people have acknowledged it for what it was: a scary earth shattering experience.

I don't want to sound like I want people's sympathy or whatever. And honestly giving people the blunt answer of what happened is easier for me to get through than giving them the run down. But I just hate feeling like I am on a different planet than everyone.

Also what makes me feel all alone is the fact that delivery of the placenta is such a nonchalant thing. They teach you you have your baby and a few minutes later you will deliver the placenta and not even know it. Its just a blink in the terms of pregnancy. But, to me, the third stage of labor defines my pregnancy. It defines me. And saying this out loud, or typing it rather, makes me feel like I am being over dramatic. And I hate that. But how can I not be?

Everyone has heard of postpartum depression. Its on TV in movies. People understand it. They may not totally understand how people can get so depressed and hypnotic that they do bad things to their children, but at least they understand that it exists. They know the concept--someone has a baby and due to hormonal and life changes develop it. It is still somewhat hushed in society. But not nearly as much as other mental illness issues.

And then there is PTSD after childbirth. ummmm....hello? What? Isn't PTSD only for soldiers or people who have been in something horrific like September 11th? Pretty much everyone has a hard labor and delivery, just suck it up. That's how I feel. I should be able to just get past it instead of dwell on it constantly.

The diagnosis

I knew that how I have been feeling since Ava's birth wasn't "normal." But I was somehow managing to get through it. Then this week in nursing school we are learning about "labor and delivery." I didn't know how much I internally was dreading this. That morning I was so tempted to just stay home and sleep. If it wasn't for someone waking up early to take care of Ava I probably would have. I got through the pregnancy part ok. I though I could do it. We took our break and was going to start labor when we got back. I sat at my table waiting for class to start trying my hardest not to just burst out crying. I can do this. I can do this. My teacher was well aware of my situation and said if I need to step out I can and she would understand. I can do this. We got to the third stage of labor, where the placenta is supposed to come out. I just kept my eyes down and wiggled my foot back and forth trying to not think much about anything. And then it was done. I did it. Only problem is there was a movie after. I could watch the labor part. Most of the women in the movie had an epidural, so it was different from mine. It was ok. I can do this. And then it went right to the mom holding a baby. There was only a momentary mention of the placenta. And that's when I broke. I didn't even realize what I was doing, but I was out the door and outside walking in the parking lot. I just kept walking. And crying. and crying.

That's when I realized I can't do this.  I finally made my way back and the class was gone for the day. My teacher saw me and asked if I was ok and I just bawled. She gave me a hug and I just cried harder. Someone understood my anguish. Someone told me that I could talk to her whenever I need. I felt kind of silly giving the head of the nursing department a huge ol hug crying my eyes out. But it was needed.

I left the school with two things in mind. 1) I was put in this school for a reason. I am going through this for a reason. It sucks. A lot. But sometime in the far far future I will be able to use this and help someone the way my teacher helped me. 2) I need professional help. So I called my OB office and asked for a referral for a therapist.

I called him and he was able to get me in two days later. I felt kind of strange because his office is at the doctors office. So I was sitting in the same waiting room I had waited in all year. Only then I was filled with excitement that I got to see my baby. This time I was full of trepidation.

I started talking to him and in no time at all he told me I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. So I'm not crazy. And it totally makes sense and not really too shocking to be honest.
So here is my story of trying to live my life as normally as possible with this disorder.

The Trauma

(I wrote this a week or so after this all happened. To read about the Labor go here)

Ava was here but there was something instinctual in me saying I'm not done yet. They say the placenta just comes out and you don't really realize it. Well my doctor was still there with the cord in his hand and a "hmmm this is different" look on his face. I was still in a lot of pain. I asked him if everything was ok and he said yes the placenta was just having a hard time coming out. Before I knew it I was in worse pain than I was when I had her. I remember him saying "its inside out" and there were a few extra nurses there. Then all of a sudden I saw this bloody blob of something (my uterus) come out of me and a look of terror in the doctors eyes. He immediately tried to stuff it back in. That is when the true screaming and pain began. When I say stuff I mean jab furiously all over. Oh my gosh. It hurt worse than the worse contraction, worse than trying not to push, worse than the ring of fire. I remember saying "bad doctor" (lol) and yelling at him to stop. A nurse shuts the door, as I probably was making too much noise and scaring all the normal laboring mothers. At this point everything starts to run together. He called the anaesthesiologist to come. A nurse jabbed me in the leg with a shot. People were running all over. I remember looking past all this to my mom holding Ava with a look of panic and thinking is this going to be the last time I see them. The anaesthesiologist comes and does his shpeal about all the risks we gave verbal consent and off I was to the OR. I whispered "I love you" as the rushed me past Chris.

I was wheeled down the hall to the OR and there were people coming out of the woodwork. My dad was in the hall and just looked at me. It hurt sooo bad. They push me in there and there were even more people. I started to go in and out here so all I remember are snipits. They moved me to a different table. I prayed that my children wouldn't be motherless. My blood pressure was dropping (54/36 I believe is what they said.) Everything hurt. Something was taking me away from it all and I was going in and out of consciousness. A nurse I had seen a week earlier when I thought I was in labor was there. Seeing her familiar face was comforting...as comforting as something could be in such a situation. The big light over head was blazing in my face. Then I was gone. I was in a white tunnel trying to find the way out. I don't know if I was actively thinking or dreaming. But whatever it was, I was "thinking" about how I was going to write about this in my blog (don't judge). I could hear my thoughts like someone was yelling them to me through a megaphone. The tunnel I was in started changing colors like a video game and all of a sudden I was trying to find the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (I blame my 2 year old for that one.) in the PacMan maze.

Then all of a sudden I heard familiar voices. I heard Zoey and some other strange noise through the megaphone. I tried to say something but all that could come out were moans. It took me a while to realize that the strange noise was coming from me! I started to wake up for moments at a time and just remember seeing the clock. I could tell Chris was on my side holding my hand. It felt good, like everything was going to be ok. Then I would go out again. But this time I was picturing my family at the bottom of the room with a curtain separating them from me playing parlor games. Then I would wake up and see the clock again. Then out. I don't know how long this happened. Then I was back for good. I could feel someone else hold my hand it was my mom. I kept my eyes closed for the most part trying to process what just happened and asking lots of the same questions. Everyone came over to see me. It was strange because I still didn't really know what happened. Slowly things started to clear up. I remember them saying they were going to give Ava a bottle, and that was the first time I remembered "oh yea, I have two kids now." It was kinda crazy. Its like I forgot all about the last 9 months of pregnancy and day of being in labor.

I couldn't move my arms because I had who knows what in/on them. One arm had my regular IV and blood pressure cuff. The other had something around it and my blood transfusion. I was really cold and they kept putting billions of blankets on me. But I couldn't really talk because I had Oxygen on. I was kinda in rough shape. My mouth was so dry. All I wanted was a drink but I couldn't move my arms or say anything to get it. So I just had to wait until someone came over to me. My nurse filled my mug up with ice. I couldn't even lift it up I was so weak. Chris emptied it to about a third full, and it was still too heavy. Everyone slowly trickled out and it was just Chris and I. They took Ava to the nursery and I fell asleep.

My nurse came in around 4:30 before shift change and explained everything to me when I was a little more with it. I had already been up for about an hour looking at the few pictures Chris had on his phone of my new baby. It didn't feel real. I kept thinking "this isn't my life" and I will soon wake up and be warm in my bed.

My nurse told me the placenta never detached from the uterus so when it came out it dragged it with it and turned it inside out, kinda like when you pull a sock from the toe to get it the right way. He tried to put it back in, that's when It really hurt. But since I was loosing so much blood and in so much pain they had to rush me to the operation room. The problem lies in the fact that once the placenta is no longer there the cervix starts to close up, so time is crucial. At that point there were three possibilities. He could manually get it back.if it was open enough. Cut me open like a csection and get it through that way. or if those didn't work hysterectomy. There is technically 4 possibilities if that didn't work and I kept bleeding out, but lets not think about that. Luckily I got away with the easy one. and he stuffed it in place without cutting me. I did loose about 3-4 Liters of blood (the average person has about 5). And so I got 4 blood transfusions.

Apparently this is a super rare complication. My doctor has had it happen 3 other times in his 25 years. I had nurses say they had been in Labor and Delivery for 5 years, 12 years ect and had never seen it happen. Needless to say I was the talk of the nurses station. ....And that's saying something because I know triplets were born Wednesday too. Inverted Uteruses are pretty crazy I guess.

Chris and my family told me the worst part was having no idea what was going on. They just rushed me out of there without saying much and left puddles of blood all over the ground. They were left there with the baby just waiting. Not knowing if I was alive. After a while a nurse came in and said she was going to go see what was going on. Chris waited by the door and saw her walk up the hall and get called in another room. He kept wondering why no one was coming in to see Ava or tell them that I was ok or not.

I am recovering well just like a normal delivery at this point. I will probably be a little more tender than average. And I get these dizzy spells, which they think is due to all my blood loss and transfusions. But I can generally just sleep them off and I am fine. Ava is beautiful and Zoey is so in love. With everything that went down I wasn't able to hold her for 5 hours, so I was kind of worried about breast feeding. In fact that was one of the reasons why I wanted a natural birth in the first place, so she could be with me skin to skin right away. But lo that wasn't in the cards this week. I am so lucky to be here and raise my two little girls and enjoy my life as a family.

The Labor

(I wrote this a couple days after I had my sweet baby)


So I had a pretty awesome day Tuesday, getting into the nursing program and all the day before I have a baby. I couldn't stop smiling all day. Tuesday night I got very little sleep. One time my mind would be racing about nursing, the next about labor and delivery, the next about Zoey with her new baby sister, and sometimes about how the heck am I going to do it all in 5 short weeks. Needless to say I was up before my alarm.

We leave a little early at get to the hospital about 10 minutes early. The front desk gets my information and signs me in and tells me to wait. So we sit down and wait and wait, then the charge nurse comes over and asks if they told us to call before we came in. Obviously not. There wasn't enough room for me at the time but there should be at noon, so I was to call at 11:30. Lovely. Not what i wanted to hear. So we leave and go to Chris' family's house to see Zoey and take a nap. We went to Arby's to eat and pass the time. I call at 11:30 and the charge nurse is busy and they say she will call back. By this time I wonder if I should have just stuck with the 7 instead of this roller coaster of going in or not. She finally calls at 12 and says to come in at 2. Finally!!!

We get there and they send me back and get me all set up. The pictocin starts a little before 3. I was dilated to a 2.5 when they started me. That was surprising since I was only a 1 on Monday. Shift change is at 5 and I got a new nurse who had a natural birth for all three of her children so she said she would help me out. She told me everything to expect. 1-6 is the longest, around 7 is transition, and after that it is hard and generally when people change their mind about the natural thing. I was really worried about the pushing and how that will go. She told me the ring of fire is probably the worst part of it. So there I was fully informed on how my labor and delivery will be.

I hang out in the bed for a while watching tv and listening to my ipod. I found it helped to turn up my music and sing when a contraction hit. So I was constantly putting my earbuds in and out because I wanted to hear what was going on but needed them ready at a moments notice. The nurse got me a birthing ball which was nice. It felt a lot better to be able to bounce than just sitting there. My doctor came in about 6:30 and broke my water. My contractions started getting a lot more intense almost immediately. I just kept bouncing away listening to Cute is What We Aim For. They had the only song I could find that had the right tempo, but didn't change or have much just music time. So I don't know how many times I listened to Curse of Curves. But it put me in the Zone to get trough them without too much uncomfort. Chris made fun of me a lot when he heard the SAME song again. I got checked again at 8:30 and was a 6! That was surprising. It took me 10 hours with Zo to go from a 2-3, so 5 hours to get to 6 was aweeeesome.

The contractions were starting to get a lot more painful, so my nurse showed me different positions I could try. Some helped, some were awkward, and some were just strange. At about 10 I was a 7 and my doctor text my doctor to let him know how things were going. An hour later I was still a 7 and I was wearing down. My nurse at this time got rid of her other patient so she could just be with me. I was very grateful for this. She would show Chris things to do, but it always felt so much better when she did it. I started shaking. Transition! Around 1130 (I'm just kind of guessing at the times here. I wasn't paying that much attention) she checked at I was about 7.5. It hurt so bad. I wasn't getting much time between contractions and they were super painful. I started thinking that I wouldn't be able to do much more. My nurse was so supportive and talked me through each contraction- only 30 seconds and its over, you are through the hard part ect. She checked me again around midnight because I was starting to feel some pressure but didn't think I was feeling "the pressure." I was still about the same part was an 8 and part was still the same. She could see the disappointment and frankly terror to hear that. She asked if I wanted some fentinol to take the edge off, which I agreed to. But when she checked me I thought I was going to pee, so I went to the bathroom. I didn't have to go after all, but sitting on the toilet felt kinda good. while I was in there she started setting up. I started to feel even more pressure so she called in anyone she could to help her. I remember her telling me whatever I do don't bare down for anything. All of a sudden I had lots and lots of pressure and I knew that the bathroom probably wasn't the best place anymore. I somehow managed to get back to the bed with Chris's help. She checked me and sure enough I was complete. She had the charge nurse call my Doctor. Nurses were running around getting everything else set up while my nurse sat there with me telling me not to push. After what seamed like forever he still wasn't there, she made sure the charge called and I guess she didn't realize just how fast baby was coming so she said she would call and tell him to get there stat. At that point she started talking about how she has delivered a few of his babies. She had gloves on and was giving counter pressure to keep her in. I kept saying I'm sorry I can't help but to push, which was the honest truth. That was the hardest part of the whole birth up til that point. He walked in the door gowned up and was there. One contraction and well they don't call it the ring of fire for nothing. Holly Cow. Ring of Fire is a nice way to put it. The only thing going on in my mind is she better get out now so this is over. I felt her head come out and knew just a little bit more and she would be born and BAM Ava was laying on my belly. It didn't feel real at all. I think I was just trying to get through the fact that I just went through all that pain and there was my sweet reward. I knew I still had the placenta to deal with so I just watched as they took her and did all that fun stuff. I did it. I had a natural childbirth. Something I wasn't able to do with Zoey.

(to go on to where things got crazy go here)