Release the guilt

My daughter was born three months early. The doctors had no idea why. I just went into spontaneous labour. I took an adventurous helicopter ride to the nearest high risk hospital in Toronto. I was surrounded my many highly experienced doctors, nurses and specialists who frantically prepared for the birth.  She was born at 1:05 am on July 15th.  Two pounds, 5 ounces – she was so tiny, yet her cries were strong.

It was not the way I expected it was supposed to go. There was no family support group in the delivery room, just a bright sterile operating room with strangers and a frantic husband trying to keep himself from falling apart. Pain, so much pain that every month I get my menstrual cramps I am reminded of the pain I felt that night. There is no skin to skin contact or the proud moment you get to see the birth of your first child. No, they just whisked her away to another room and I am left there feeling cold and empty. No child in my arms to distract from the pain of what comes after.

All I wanted was someone to tell me it was OK to feel like I wanted to die.

The next day was full of visitors and well wishers. Constant reassurance that “everything will be fine” and “don’t worry, time will pass and this will be a memory.” Yes that’s true, but it ended up being a memory that still haunts me to this day. No one understands that those words don’t comfort a person when they feel like they are in hell. All I wanted was someone to tell me it was OK to feel like I wanted to die and that I had valid reasons for all the emotions that I had.

Over the next few months I never felt so lonely. I sought help from the hospital Psychiatrist who did help somewhat but I don’t think that someone who has not even had a child, let alone gone through what I had just experienced could meet me at the same level. Postpartum anxiety and PTSD was the diagnosis. So I had a diagnosis but no long-term plan on how to deal with it. No one around me who knew how to help someone with PTSD. I did what any mother would; I sucked it up as best as I could and moved on. That was probably the worst thing I could’ve done.

Months passed and I suffered from severe sleep deprivation. I also ended up in the ER twice with extreme hypertension. I knew I was going to have to change something, if not for me then for my daughter. She kept growing and growing, she was happy and healthy but I was getting more and more depressed and anxious. I knew this path was not for me and needed a severe mental overhaul.

I finally enlisted in help from a naturopathic doctor who put me on a healthier path for my body. She advised me to change my eating habits and physical activities. This helped me become a healthier body but not a happier mind.

I also needed time for things that made me happy and bring me joy.

One day I picked up the phone to call a friend from the past who had experience in mental health support and decided to go in for a session. She is a Reiki Master, certified counselor and a Masters in hypnotherapy. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of her earlier but that time had come. She helped me release the guilt that had eaten at me for months that I blamed myself for her early birth. She also told me that I needed to continue on a path that also made me happy, and as much as I was giving to my child, I also needed time for things that made me happy and bring me joy. I started to write, at first a journal chronicling my experiences with anxiety and the brutal truths of how it made me feel physically and mentally. Now I focus more on creating stories and characters and sometimes get lost in them. It’s just my personal form of therapy and it helps me tremendously.

Time passed and my daughter is a happy, healthy and beautiful little girl. I continue to try and keep my body and mind healthy as much as possible but those that have had traumatic events know that you never fully forget them, you just try to move on as best as possible. I just try to be an advocate for other mothers and women who suffer from any form of anxiety and depression and let them know that they are not alone.