I remember waking for the umptenth time to relieve my bladder it was
around 11pm from memory (and please bear with me as I am writing this 2
1/2 years on some parts are more difficult to remember then others).
There is a part of me that will always be thankful I turned the light
on, As many a time at night I don’t bother to. Something that night
made me, What I saw, will always be a scaring memory in my mind. I
looked down to see blood, I was almost 31 weeks pregnant….
I ran into our bedroom and my partner MrM, waking him whilst on
autopilot grabbing the phone, finding and dialing the hospitals number. I
remember feeling like i couldn’t breath yet reminding myself to stay
calm and talk calmly to the lady on the other end of the phone ,
Instructed to head to the hospital, I didn’t have a care in the world
for anything other then to run out of that door and just go.
We lived 40 minutes away from Coffs Harbour Hospital at the time, A
car ride has never felt as long as that one did… I sat in silence, I
cried but mostly I rubbed my belly and begged in silent prayer that she
was alright, that nothing would happen to her.
We got to the maternity ward and i was strapped up to the monitors, I
held my breath when she got out the little machine to listen to the
heartbeat I squeezed the hell out of MrM’s hand and I cried shear relief
like never before when I heard her heartbeat, They left me on the
monitor for a while in the end it came to them not being able to figure
out why I was bleeding and they sent me home saying if it got worse it
had not stop by the next day to come back.
I barely slept, to wake to it being a whole hell of a lot worse, I
told MrM i wanted to go back to hospital, what happened next is a blur
in my mind this is because I was simply so scared, my first pregnancy.
They gave me stuff to stop contractions, that I can’t even remember
feeling, in an instant someones walking in and telling me I’m going to
be flown to Newcastle’s John Hunter hospital as Coffs Hospital is not
set up to deliver babies under 36weeks. They gave me steroids for my
baby girls lungs in-case she was to be born, There was no room for MrM
on the flight I will always be very thankful to the helpful nurse who
attended to me on the flight. This was the first time in my life I had
been on a plane, and I did not react well to it, from take off to
landing I vomited non stop.
MrM made his way down in the car, frustratingly I had to wait 3 days
after being in hospital there at John Hunter to get an ultrasound and
maybe some more answers as to why I was still bleeding, and having a lot
tightening s and small barely noticeable contractions. The ultrasound
could only tell us that our girl was small, but did not find any of
reason for all that was happening. There was discussion on what to do,
the outcome if I could stop bleeding and not bleed for a couple of days
etc, I would go home and be closely monitored, but just when I thought
that was all going to happen…
Oh dear, cause it started again, and I felt a lot more pain this
time, nurses and doctors reacted quickly shipping me down to
maternity/delivery ward saying I needed to be more closely monitored I
was scared as, 32 weeks like any mother would, all I could think was my
baby can’t come now it’s to early!
They gave me morphine to help with the pain and to get me to get some
sleep cause in all truth I was tired but I just couldn’t switch off, I
woke to such pain, they rushed in with a portable ultrasound/heartbeat
machine, i wanted to scream at how long it took for the heartbeat to be
found, and it wasn’t just a case of it feeling like a long time. From
what I can gather they spent the night closely monitoring me i did get
some sleep.
With my partner MrM in coffs harbour, having to have had to go back
for work commitments, what I go through next was even harder that MrM
wasn’t given the chance to make it n time to be there for me and for his
daughters birth. Oh if only more hospitals could be set up for earlier
deliveries so we didn’t have to be apart from our loved ones that keep
us strong through these times of such a test of our strength. I was
always feel blessed and thankful my sister could be there for me and for
her nieces birth.
Doc walked in and simply said ” we can’t put the baby or you under
any more stress So we’re going to break a your waters and induce you,
and only if needed you’ll have to go in for a c-section”. which was good
cause I remember saying “don’t you dare cut me unless you have to”, I
had always had the opinion women are meant to have birth the natural
way, and well especially if they can, I knew I always wanted to.
All that happens next, happened so so fast and this is the part that
really is a blur and I can only remember snippets, yes makes me feel
sad. I believe I was in such shock at it all happening so fast i just
didn’t get a chance to absorb any of it, I called MrM he was in that car
before we hung up practically, but I think we both knew he never make
it in time being 5 hours away. I held my sisters hand as they broke my
waters and started giving me the inducing drug, I remember a
conversation about pain relief, waiting seeing what I can handle try
this first etc etc, My back was killing me it was all in my back and the
contractions were so intense. Started sucking on the gas, but felt it
didn’t do much at all other than in the end send me into that area where
I freaked out should probably have kept sucking on the gas but didn’t. I
remember saying I wanted something else, something stronger they
explained they would check to see how far along I was and take it from
there .. Well of course I was 8cm dilated and all I heard next was
“darling it’s to late you’ll be pushing any minute now and can”, Then
before I knew it I felt that almightly urge to push. After what felt
like an eternity to me, but was told later it wasn’t that long at all,
and that main big part of her birth consisted of only something like
four big long pushes and she was here J
I got the briefest glance at her before they whisked her over to the
examination area, she let out a cry and my heart rushed with love. After
checking her etc, I got a very small chance to say Hi and she was off
to the nicu. I waited for her Daddy and my partner to arrive before
going to Nicu wanting us to experience that together feeling so sad at
his loss of not making it there in time.
We went in, it was so daunting, seeing all those humidicribs
everywhere the tiny babies. I tried to listen to the nurse speaking to
us and take in everything she was saying but it was so hard. After going
through the process of washing hands and learning all of that we were
taken to her, I cried tears of joy and tears of sadness all at the same
time, My precious child here in front of me was so so tiny, I will admit
it took me about 2 weeks to actually comprehend and really wrap my head
around her being premature, how little she was . Nothing can explain
the feeling of the waves of people nonstop commenting that one line
“she’s so tiny”.
She stayed at John Hunter Nicu for a month in the end before a bed
was finally free at our towns hospital of Coffs Harbour, she was 36
weeks, they we’re happy to have taken her at 34 weeks with the progress
she had been making, that she had no health issues, and was only on cpap
for a very short time. She did go under the jaundice light a couple of
times, That didn’t worry me, having the nurses communicating well on
what premmie babies may experience more than a full term baby and one of
them being the jaundice.
I’ll admit it was a frustrating time day after day waiting to see if
there was a free bed for her in coffs harbour, MrM had to go back to
coffs to work as his job at the time was casual and we were losing money
fast. It was a struggle at first finding accommodation as we were a one
income family, I was very fortunate to have a room free up in the
ronald mcdonald house right near the hospital, and am thankful at how
much easier that did make things. A month there felt like honestly about
3, I couldn’t have been happier at the news of a flight home for us and
a bed for MissK, it all matched up and we landed in Coff’s. MissK was
there in coffs harbour hospital for another couple of weeks before
finally reaching 3kg and coming home with us. As a premature baby the
health issues she has suffered from are, Very bad reflux for the first
year and a half. She otherwise has been behind a bit but has still met a
lot of her milestones and is now an extremely talkative 2 ½ yr old, and
shows in leaps and bounds that she is quite mind smart.
Friday, 30 September 2011
MrM
Every relationship I’d had failed, looking back I know it was because
they couldn’t truly take me on board and accept me for me, whether it
be good or bad. That was until I met MrM, At a time when I probably
should not have been with anyone and concentrating on myself I met him
and that was it!
So early on in our relationship, like I mean a month, how much he cared for me was being tested already, having to take me to a mental hospital for an evaluation. I was finding it harder and harder to think rationally and a failed attempt at trying to be on anti-depressants and an adverse violent reaction had left me so afraid of having to be on medication. He held my hand, I understood when I was freaking out waiting wanting a cigarette so bad (I had forgotten them Arghhh) He went and got a packet, he rubbed my shoulders and he was waiting for me when I was finished. One would think it’d be the end of our new fresh love, that he would run for the hills like many others had, for all the faith I didn’t have he wanted me and he wanted to love me.
Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy as that, because I stupidly refused to go on medication when I should have, I just told myself I could push through. I was working for MrM doing the books and office side of his distribution business he was running when I had met him. This isn’t where the locking myself away started, but it did become me again, to stay behind closed doors choosing solidarity over a social life and existing out there in the real world. As it had before, it came down to me leaving the house only if I REALLY had to, making MrM do everything and having that lead to, losing the ability to even be able to make a phone call for myself. I could call family & friends but if I had to ring to make an appointment etc, well then the only thing I felt at those times was shear panic. Powerless to controlling the waves of nausea, gaining control of my breath and feeling like I don’t have an elephant sitting on my chest unable to stop my body from tensing up to extremes and incapable of stopping my hand from grabbing at my arm, squeezing and gripping on. For 80% of my panic attacks the result would be that last part there and I am unable to pull my hand away from my arm, it is like I’ve got a death grip on myself and even when I have got everything in check I still can’t free my hand from my arm, which as you can imagine makes for a very hard situation when I am home alone.
I have not experienced this symptom for about a year and a half now, but varied versions pop up when I am stressed or over anxious, I will scratch at one spot on my arm non-stop or rub at one spot in what would appear to be a bit of an obsessed manner.
It may be inspirational to some these next words…. I live now, without medication…
But my opinion is what should be inspirational is the journey I’ve gone through to be able to live without medication. Yes there was a time they had me all zombie’d out on very strong tablets for both depression and the anxiety and panic, but because I wanted that day of living freely, mentally happy and not on medication I was able to achieve it. That doesn’t make me perfect, cause no one is, I have bad days and I still have some anxiety I live with eg; I can only handle a shopping centre for about maximum 2 hours before the anxious feelings want to start kicking in and if I can’t or don’t fight it well then the unimaginable happens, I have a panic attack that is fuelled by an even stronger petrol of the ‘this is so not happening to me in public’ part…
I do still at times have unpredictable moods and find it hard to make plans, I had what felt like a lifetime of not living and as much as I enjoy socializing now, sometimes a deep set fears will still rise and bring forth anxiety and me not being able to…
Anyway back to the original point here, the wonderful man who loved me, wanted me better and would do anything for that to happen. Moved us nearer to my family with me feeling at that time in my life it was what I needed and some other reasons too. It wasn’t to be, to gain being closer to my father, when a lost little girl really needed her daddy he turned against me in some degrees and MrM was left with the burden of me.
I felt no purpose in my life, having been with MrM for a few years at this stage we talked and decided to have a baby this decision made me feel so much happier within myself, after years of not working and especially not out of the home, I felt empty and bored and I knew this would be the answer, my answer
How wrong I was…
And to come next more on just why….
So early on in our relationship, like I mean a month, how much he cared for me was being tested already, having to take me to a mental hospital for an evaluation. I was finding it harder and harder to think rationally and a failed attempt at trying to be on anti-depressants and an adverse violent reaction had left me so afraid of having to be on medication. He held my hand, I understood when I was freaking out waiting wanting a cigarette so bad (I had forgotten them Arghhh) He went and got a packet, he rubbed my shoulders and he was waiting for me when I was finished. One would think it’d be the end of our new fresh love, that he would run for the hills like many others had, for all the faith I didn’t have he wanted me and he wanted to love me.
Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy as that, because I stupidly refused to go on medication when I should have, I just told myself I could push through. I was working for MrM doing the books and office side of his distribution business he was running when I had met him. This isn’t where the locking myself away started, but it did become me again, to stay behind closed doors choosing solidarity over a social life and existing out there in the real world. As it had before, it came down to me leaving the house only if I REALLY had to, making MrM do everything and having that lead to, losing the ability to even be able to make a phone call for myself. I could call family & friends but if I had to ring to make an appointment etc, well then the only thing I felt at those times was shear panic. Powerless to controlling the waves of nausea, gaining control of my breath and feeling like I don’t have an elephant sitting on my chest unable to stop my body from tensing up to extremes and incapable of stopping my hand from grabbing at my arm, squeezing and gripping on. For 80% of my panic attacks the result would be that last part there and I am unable to pull my hand away from my arm, it is like I’ve got a death grip on myself and even when I have got everything in check I still can’t free my hand from my arm, which as you can imagine makes for a very hard situation when I am home alone.
I have not experienced this symptom for about a year and a half now, but varied versions pop up when I am stressed or over anxious, I will scratch at one spot on my arm non-stop or rub at one spot in what would appear to be a bit of an obsessed manner.
It may be inspirational to some these next words…. I live now, without medication…
But my opinion is what should be inspirational is the journey I’ve gone through to be able to live without medication. Yes there was a time they had me all zombie’d out on very strong tablets for both depression and the anxiety and panic, but because I wanted that day of living freely, mentally happy and not on medication I was able to achieve it. That doesn’t make me perfect, cause no one is, I have bad days and I still have some anxiety I live with eg; I can only handle a shopping centre for about maximum 2 hours before the anxious feelings want to start kicking in and if I can’t or don’t fight it well then the unimaginable happens, I have a panic attack that is fuelled by an even stronger petrol of the ‘this is so not happening to me in public’ part…
I do still at times have unpredictable moods and find it hard to make plans, I had what felt like a lifetime of not living and as much as I enjoy socializing now, sometimes a deep set fears will still rise and bring forth anxiety and me not being able to…
Anyway back to the original point here, the wonderful man who loved me, wanted me better and would do anything for that to happen. Moved us nearer to my family with me feeling at that time in my life it was what I needed and some other reasons too. It wasn’t to be, to gain being closer to my father, when a lost little girl really needed her daddy he turned against me in some degrees and MrM was left with the burden of me.
I felt no purpose in my life, having been with MrM for a few years at this stage we talked and decided to have a baby this decision made me feel so much happier within myself, after years of not working and especially not out of the home, I felt empty and bored and I knew this would be the answer, my answer
How wrong I was…
And to come next more on just why….
Darkest hours
To start this in the right place, that’s the tough one… Easiest to
answer the question, where do I think it all came from? Living with
depression – anxiety & major panic attacks and a reality of locking
myself away from the world. I always believed and at a later time had it
confirmed that my mother’s death, was truly that life altering in a bad
way.
Being only seventeen I already had to grow up so much in the past, with her leaving my sister and I, choosing not to be a mother and selfishly having no part in our life. I did not know her, until the age of eleven I didn’t have someone I called mum. I will always remember that fateful day, receiving her letter in the mail running my fingers over her words whilst smiling through my confusion. My heart sang and all I wanted was to meet her, to embrace her and to finally stop having that dream… Being lost in a supermarket as a young girl, screaming for my Dad and sister, a lady comes up to me and asks my name, as I tell her tears well up in her eyes and she says “I’m your mum”… Love came instantly forgiveness took well, only a short amount of time because I was just so happy to have a mum, my mum.
If only I’d known the road ahead but that’s not how it’s mapped out for one. Oh the amount of ‘if only’ I have played over in mind. Lying to the world and saying I have no regrets after she was gone. Six short years was the time god permitted us to have together before he took her, some may say he helped stopped her suffering and a part of me does indeed believe that to, but there will always be another part of me still refusing to let go of that angry feeling ‘ why couldn’t you have given me more time, more love, laughs cuddles and hearing her voice. Why, some of you may ask, because as much as I believe you can find a soul mate in a man, you can find a soul mate in another person, whether it be a friend, a cousin, a man or your mum. My Mum was my soul mate because 1- when I met her that missing piece to the puzzle was finally in place 2- I was the black sheep of the family and to some degree the bad egg lol, but my mum accepted me 100% for me, when everyone was trying to change me and couldn’t accept me, she did. I grew up being with-held and shy, she allowed and helped me to finally shine. For those reasons and just how close I felt to her, I always did and still do feel she was my soul mate.
I don’t want to side track from the biggest point to my blog, my experiences with depression etc etc, but I do need to reminisce on all that contributed to it and how. My mother was not well, suffering from Chrons disease, diagnosed at nineteen. It was the reason she couldn’t be a mother to my twin sister and I, move forward to when I did know her and many years of medications and illness she also had osteoporosis and diagnosed schizophrenia as well. My father had told me she suffered from depression when I was younger and had tried his best to explain she wasn’t coping a mother, so it sparks in my mind something similar to myself and my experience, that I have managed to form the opinion that at times within my life it was I suppose in remission, yet and your soon to find out, there were times ‘IT’ was in the darkness form it could be. So my mother’s death was this life altering thing that was the trigger to really starting this road I would travel upon, where one corner had depression, another had anxiety and also the highway of panic.
But if I was to be completely honest here, and well I’m going to be I would tell you something else became a part of my life that I am ashamed of, that took over and ruled me and my illness in the end too.
Marijuana…
You see drifting through life after my mum died feeling lost, being young and having to deal with that made me very naive to other things in my life example; the relationship I was in at the time. The hurt and lesson I would later learn from it and the continuously growing depression within me, I know realise something was bound to have become my escape. It was a social thing, making me happy, giving me confidence for once in my life I was a part of the group instead of hanging back and it felt good, for a little while…
Then came the addiction, whilst I didn’t even realise it was feeding an under lying mental illness, chemical in balance madness and as I look back now I don’t quite know how I lasted as long as I did before eventually having a major emotional and nervous breakdown. Which, we’ll will visit upon more in another blog.
Sheesh admit-tingly some of this is really hard to write, to share but I have come to a point in my life where I feel nothing more than the importance to share. I don’t believe I’ll be a hero in saving someone else or anything like that, but I do know there are others like me out there, and like me you to, have probably suffered in silence for a lot of it. Mental illness and what it truly is, what it really can involve for a person is not recognised enough in our country, I see so much talk of depression on ad’s/campaigns etc, and can’t help but think to myself where’s the mention to anxiety/panic attacks, being so riddled with it one cannot function day to day, look after themselves, their family…
I’ll leave it here for now, with my next edition to come real soon, as I have a lot of stuff already typed just been sitting there for a while so I need to go over it refresh it and give it all those words, for what it’s worth :D I will write about some of the highs, some of the lows and give you more a picture into my life and story… because as a parent to MissK
Being only seventeen I already had to grow up so much in the past, with her leaving my sister and I, choosing not to be a mother and selfishly having no part in our life. I did not know her, until the age of eleven I didn’t have someone I called mum. I will always remember that fateful day, receiving her letter in the mail running my fingers over her words whilst smiling through my confusion. My heart sang and all I wanted was to meet her, to embrace her and to finally stop having that dream… Being lost in a supermarket as a young girl, screaming for my Dad and sister, a lady comes up to me and asks my name, as I tell her tears well up in her eyes and she says “I’m your mum”… Love came instantly forgiveness took well, only a short amount of time because I was just so happy to have a mum, my mum.
If only I’d known the road ahead but that’s not how it’s mapped out for one. Oh the amount of ‘if only’ I have played over in mind. Lying to the world and saying I have no regrets after she was gone. Six short years was the time god permitted us to have together before he took her, some may say he helped stopped her suffering and a part of me does indeed believe that to, but there will always be another part of me still refusing to let go of that angry feeling ‘ why couldn’t you have given me more time, more love, laughs cuddles and hearing her voice. Why, some of you may ask, because as much as I believe you can find a soul mate in a man, you can find a soul mate in another person, whether it be a friend, a cousin, a man or your mum. My Mum was my soul mate because 1- when I met her that missing piece to the puzzle was finally in place 2- I was the black sheep of the family and to some degree the bad egg lol, but my mum accepted me 100% for me, when everyone was trying to change me and couldn’t accept me, she did. I grew up being with-held and shy, she allowed and helped me to finally shine. For those reasons and just how close I felt to her, I always did and still do feel she was my soul mate.
I don’t want to side track from the biggest point to my blog, my experiences with depression etc etc, but I do need to reminisce on all that contributed to it and how. My mother was not well, suffering from Chrons disease, diagnosed at nineteen. It was the reason she couldn’t be a mother to my twin sister and I, move forward to when I did know her and many years of medications and illness she also had osteoporosis and diagnosed schizophrenia as well. My father had told me she suffered from depression when I was younger and had tried his best to explain she wasn’t coping a mother, so it sparks in my mind something similar to myself and my experience, that I have managed to form the opinion that at times within my life it was I suppose in remission, yet and your soon to find out, there were times ‘IT’ was in the darkness form it could be. So my mother’s death was this life altering thing that was the trigger to really starting this road I would travel upon, where one corner had depression, another had anxiety and also the highway of panic.
But if I was to be completely honest here, and well I’m going to be I would tell you something else became a part of my life that I am ashamed of, that took over and ruled me and my illness in the end too.
Marijuana…
You see drifting through life after my mum died feeling lost, being young and having to deal with that made me very naive to other things in my life example; the relationship I was in at the time. The hurt and lesson I would later learn from it and the continuously growing depression within me, I know realise something was bound to have become my escape. It was a social thing, making me happy, giving me confidence for once in my life I was a part of the group instead of hanging back and it felt good, for a little while…
Then came the addiction, whilst I didn’t even realise it was feeding an under lying mental illness, chemical in balance madness and as I look back now I don’t quite know how I lasted as long as I did before eventually having a major emotional and nervous breakdown. Which, we’ll will visit upon more in another blog.
Sheesh admit-tingly some of this is really hard to write, to share but I have come to a point in my life where I feel nothing more than the importance to share. I don’t believe I’ll be a hero in saving someone else or anything like that, but I do know there are others like me out there, and like me you to, have probably suffered in silence for a lot of it. Mental illness and what it truly is, what it really can involve for a person is not recognised enough in our country, I see so much talk of depression on ad’s/campaigns etc, and can’t help but think to myself where’s the mention to anxiety/panic attacks, being so riddled with it one cannot function day to day, look after themselves, their family…
I’ll leave it here for now, with my next edition to come real soon, as I have a lot of stuff already typed just been sitting there for a while so I need to go over it refresh it and give it all those words, for what it’s worth :D I will write about some of the highs, some of the lows and give you more a picture into my life and story… because as a parent to MissK
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Welcome to the cracks in my pavement
Hi All :D
Welcome to my world, a world of ups and downs, emotions, love death and all I could possible manage to squeeze in between. I am a mother , a sufferer of BorderLine Personality disorder,Depression,Anxiety & panic disorder and stress disorder... But am as you will read through my blogs, I have come a long way, I know live medication free, that is hard work but when one is willing It is possible!..
My blogs will share insight into my life of living with this illness, but will also be a place for me to talk about my experiences as a mother of what I call my angel who's definitely going through the terrible 2's!! lol. I will share blogs on my love of all things cooking as my partner MrM is a chef and he is always encouraging me to try new things. Last but not least my other passion is COMPETITIONS/CONTESTS, always believing You have to be in it to win it! So I plan to start sharing some of the competitions I find within my blogs and hope my readers come back telling me they have won ;)
Peace and Love to all
*C
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