So the days passed and my psychiatric appointment had arrived. I was very nervous. I thought that the Psychiatrist was going to look at me and tell me that I was crazy. Again, I feel like I didn't even resemble myself. I figured, well, if you can't tell that I need help just by looking at me, then you're probably not that good of a psychiatrist anyway! I sat out in the waiting room with a slew of other people. Some were sitting patiently while others were obviously dealing with extreme anxiety. I played with my phone to pass the time away. Before my name was called, a younger woman (probably in her early twenties) walked out from her appointment. She was surprisingly "normal". She seemed happy and under control. This gave me hope. I was thinking, well, maybe she came in here feeling like I do now, and now she seems to be doing much better...that's what I was hoping anyway! The Psychiatrist called me back and I nervously walked to his office. He told me to have a seat and he left the room for a few minutes. I looked around and saw several plants growing, several books on his bookshelf, and an uncluttered desk. For those of you that know me, this was a sigh of relief...I don't deal with clutter very well! I sat there feeling like my world was falling apart. He entered the room and the appointment began.
He asked me what had been going on with me and I filled him in. I started to cry a couple of times. I told him that I hadn't felt like myself since before having my baby. I told him the thoughts that I had been having and the steps I had taken to address these issues. He talked to me about a few things and was really down to earth. I really liked that about him. He didn't treat me like I was some crazy person who had lost my mind or that I was a wimp and should just suck it up. He told me that this happens frequently and that we would get it figured out. He changed me to a different anti-depressant and prescribed me an anxiety medication as well. We addressed my lack of sleep issue and he made sure that the medication wouldn't make it worse. He told me to get the prescriptions filled, take them daily as prescribed and to see him again in 2 weeks. He asked me if I was taking any breaks for myself. I told him that my friend had taken Seth overnight and it was helpful. He told me that I needed to have someone watch Seth overnight for at least 2 nights per week. This really hurt! I didn't want people thinking that I couldn't take care of my own child! I also had a lot of anxiety about Seth's sleeping and eating schedule, so putting that into someone else's hands seemed like too much to even think about. He told me that it would help. He told me that I needed someone to watch him for at least 1 overnight per week, but it would be best if it were two. I scheduled my next appointment and left.
I got in my car and called my Mom. I was crying and was very upset. I was upset that I was now going to be on 2 medications and that I was going to have to see if someone could watch Seth 2 nights per week. As I spoke with my Mom about all of this, she was very calm and reassuring. She said that she and my dad could keep Seth overnight and it would not be a problem. This did ease some of the anxiety because I knew my Mom would try her best to do things as I would do them. She joked and said that she would work very hard on those 2 nights to see if she could get his days and nights flipped around so that I might actually get some sleep when he was back home. Thinking about this made me want to send him to her right then! Just thinking about him sleeping more at night was encouraging! We worked out a plan and everything was set.
I got my prescriptions filled and began taking my new medications. A couple of days later, Stuart and I loaded up Seth's overnight things and headed to my Mom's. I could feel some of my anxiety leave as we drove there. This made me mad because again, I wanted to feel sad that he was not going to be with me for the next few days, but instead I felt relief. We got to her house, stayed for a little while and chatted, and then we left. As we drove away, it was like life was just pouring back into me. The guilt from these feelings was overwhelming. I cried to my husband stating that I wished I felt differently. I cried because I felt that life would never be the same. I told him that I wanted to be sad to leave Seth, not happy and relieved. He told me that it was fine and that I needed a break from time to time. I told him that Seth was only around 5 or 6 weeks old and that most moms do not let anyone have their child overnight until they are much older (if at all possible). Again, he said that it was fine. He said that my Mom would take good care of Seth and that I would be able to rest.
We got home, and again, as I entered the house, I saw all of Seth's toys and baby items and I wanted to cry. I wanted things to go back to normal, but I knew that regardless, this little baby was going to be with us forever. I tried to put those thoughts out of my head and just try to enjoy this break. I slept very good that night. I called my Mom the next morning to check on things and she gave me the updates. She said that he was up a lot over the night, but that they were working with him on staying up more during the day. I thanked her and hung up the phone. I felt so free. I had the entire day to myself without any worries about the baby and his constant needs. I jumped in my car and just did whatever I wanted. It felt so good. I did call and check on Seth a few times to be sure everything was fine, but then I went on as if he wasn't even here. As that second day passed, my anxiety started to rise. Before I went to bed, I called my Mom. She knew that I was already worried about having to pick him up the next day. She told me not to worry about it and to just try to get some good sleep. Boy did I try, but it just didn't happen. I woke up several times during the night with panic attacks. I was having the panic attacks because I knew I had to pick Seth up the next day. Man, what a horrible feeling! I was actually panicked because I had to pick up my own son the next day. What kind of mother was I? Over the course of the night, I woke up several times and then I was up for good around 6am. I got up and started busily working around the house preparing for Seth's return. I cried throughout that morning. I cried because I had to pick him up. I cried because I was stressed and felt like crap. I cried because of my thoughts and feelings, and I cried because I was crying about all of this! What a circle of guilt...it just never ended.
Well, the time came. My husband and I drove to my Mom's house and picked Seth up. I was back to my hopeless state where I felt like I was doomed. On the drive back home, I sat in the back with Seth and just stared at him. How could such a small, beautiful baby destroy my life? I came to the conclusion during that drive that I was just not meant to be a mother. I was not "mom material". If all of these other mothers could handle having babies and caring for them, then there was obviously something wrong with me and I was just not fit to play this part. We got home and the cycle continued. Seth was still sleeping during the day and was up almost all night. I thought it would never end!
I really thought that I was at my breaking point and that I was going to lose my mind. Thankfully I had my husband, my parents, my husband's family, and my church family to help me through. You don't realize how important it is to have a support network until you reach a point where you feel like you can't do anything on your own. Even after all of these thoughts and horrible feelings, the main thought I had was, I can't wait until next week when my parents take him again. There were times that I wished that they would just take him for good. I was ready to give up, but how could I?
The whole healing process seemed impossible when I kept going through a cycle of guilt that ate me alive. I heard everyone saying that it would get better and that being a mom is very tiring, but I felt like they had no idea. They laughed about how babies sometimes have their nights and days mixed up, but to me, this was no joke. Several people said, "welcome to motherhood!" Honestly, I just wanted to slap them! They had no idea--no idea!
During this time, there were several people who offered to watch Seth for me. At times, I was ready to hand him over. I couldn't believe this either considering some of them I didn't even know very well. Thankfully, I didn't just hand him over, I stuck with it and pressed through. I tried to be the mother I was supposed to be while feeling completely empty and depressed inside. I know that God gave me the strength to make it through those dark days. I kept telling myself that it would soon be over and things would be back to normal. Little did I know that I was completely wrong.
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