The end of February was pretty bad for me overall in general. Some things were going on at home with various family members and situations. My bad dreams came back. I was pretty down to say the least.
But then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere a switch turned up and I have been feeling pretty good. And by pretty good, I mean dancing like a mad man in the car by myself...all the time. I have had a lot more patience with my toddler. I have actually played with my toddler. It wasn't until this sudden burst of goodness that I realized how low I have been lately. I feel like I can breath now. I am able to live.
Last week, I was in clinicals watching a procedure, and all of a sudden I wasn't feeling good and passed out in the doorway. I woke up two my nurse and the patients interpreter looking down at me. Can I just say, I really hate that moment of coming back to reality and not really know what happened and why you are there. It reminded me of waking up after the OR. That was a rough time. I couldn't move because of all my new IVs and blood pumping in me. I couldn't talk because of my oxygen mask, nor could I take it off because I couldn't move my arms! I was trapped and so very confused. I could hear my family, but couldn't see them. All I was able to see was the clock on my right. I will always be haunted by the realization that I forgot I had a baby. Zoey was there and someone mentioned "sister." I had just given birth to this beautiful baby, and I forgot. And when I remembered, I wanted nothing to do with her. I was angry. I was angry that Zoey and Ava met while I was trying to stay alive. I was angry that I could forget. I was hurt that I missed it. I had looked forward to seeing them together for the first time since before I was pregnant. And I missed it. I know it wasn't done to hurt me. I know it just happened. But its still guilt I am going to have for a very long time. It still makes me cry.
In class the other day we were learning about mental illness, and obviously PTSD was going to come up. I was struggling on if I should share my story or not. The whole day I found myself needing to do my deep breathing to stay focused and keep present. Naturally, when we finally got to it, my teacher asked if anyone knew anyone who has experienced it. So she left me no choice. I kind of shared my story. But I don't think I did it justice. I started to get really panicky--racing pulse, sweaty, couldn't catch my breath. So I didn't really say what I wanted to. I wanted to tell everyone that it can happen to anyone. I wanted to say that I thought I was going crazy. I thought I was stressing over my stupid uterus too much and I should just get over it. Why couldn't I just get over it??? I wanted to so bad. But, I wasn't crazy. There was a real lagit reason. The months before I realized what was going on was horrible. I was a ticking time bomb. I am so glad those days are over. I'm so glad that I can see the signs before it happens. I am able to stop my flashbacks before they take over. I love having my mind belong to me, and not belong to that day.
On a side note... as I was walking through the hospital before clinicals there were 3 pregnant women. And every one I thought I want to be pregnant. WHA?!?! Where did that come from. It kind of surprised me a bit. But then I got thinking, it really shouldn't surprise me. I wanted another baby right around this time with Zoey too. But I guess that means that this hasn't destroyed THAT part of me too. Oh, the baby bug. I'm not ready to deal with you for another 4 years.
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