In which we discuss my brain.

Ruby was born, and as mentioned in the post previous, she is my favorite of all my babies. I don't think I was that blunt, but it can be said, because it is true. I have many reasons for loving my children, and usually their behavior will distract me from those reasons. Also, just as usually, they'll forgive me for my faulty parenting, and continue to show me love, which helps to remind me that I do in fact love them as well. That sounds harsh, gosh, when I say it out loud like that. But that's how it is.

Back to Ruby. She was born, and she has been so loved ever since. In her short little 6.5 month lifetime, she has been SO loved. Every member of this family is smitten by her. Not one of us has ever said, no thanks, when the chance to hold her or entertain her has been offered.

I had a doctors appointment for my 6 week postpartum check up. I wanted to discuss my birth control options. I have previously had 3 IUDs, of the copper variety (non hormone releasing) and loved them each time. I chose to not have one after Andrew was born, though, because we decided we wanted to start trying to get pregnant when he was 3 months old, so to have the IUD in for just about 2 months would have been a waste of time and money.

My periods started back when he was about 4.5 almost 5 months old, and they were terrible. We started trying to get pregnant at this time, because my body was showing the signs that it was ovulating again. My periods were very heavy and lasted for up to 9 or 10 days sometimes. Fast forward two years to when we were finally able to get pregnant with Ruby (trying every month, except one or two when  Trent was out of town during ovulation) and I started to think about birth control again. I didn't want to have such heavy periods again after she was born. We also had decided that IF we were able to get pregnant, then that baby would be our last. So I also wanted a long term option for birth control, that wouldn't be a hassle and wouldn't cause major side effects. I had a few friends express their love of the Mirena, an IUD that releases minimal hormones as a means to control ovulation. From what I understand, it basically stops ovulation from happening at all. My friends said that their periods all but disappeared after 3-6 months. I was very interested in that happening.

My doctor was on board with me trying the Mirena, but she doesn't insert IUDs so close to a birth, so we had to wait until I was 8 or 10 weeks post partum, I can't remember for sure.

Just about a week and a half before my 6 week check up, Trenton had been hit by a commercial box  truck on his way biking to work. It was pretty serious, he stayed overnight in the critical care unit, what some hospitals call ICUs. He has no recollection of the accident. His skull was fractured, fractured ribs, fractured sternum, partially collapsed lung, shattered bones inside his ear resulting in a complete loss of hearing for that ear, many shattered, fractured, and chipped teeth, large laceration behind his ear, and minimal road rash on various parts of his body and many bruises as you might imagine.I know I"m forgetting something. In the weeks that followed his accident, he discovered that he also had terrible dizziness, headaches, neck and back aches, and obviously decreased strength from his lack of activity while recovering. He was out of work for 4 weeks, and probably should have worked half days for another 3 or 4 weeks, but instead he took lots of breaks when he became too dizzy to concentrate during those first few weeks back.

Ruby was 1 month and 3 days old at the time of his accident. He was unable to hold her for a whole month. He was allowed to lift nothing more than 10 pounds. Ruby was just about 11 pounds at the time. I was thrown into caretaker mode, and I think I was running on adrenaline. My parents were so very helpful especially during the first 2 or 3 weeks after his accident. They took care of the 3 older kids a lot for me so I didn't need to always worry about them. I was able to spend most of the time with Trent at the hospital. They brought us dinner frequently, and had the kids spend the night on multiple occasions during the weekends.

There was one day, a Saturday - I think the one right after his accident which was on a Wednesday -where Trenton was still very much in the healing process, where I was crying and crying because I was overwhelmed with my responsibilities. My kids had spent the night at my parents house the night before, and had dropped them off in the morning. I thought they had agreed to keep them until the afternoon, so when they showed up at my door I was panicking. I hadn't prepared myself to have them for a least a few more hours. I didn't realize how much I had been effected emotionally by this accident until this moment. They're my children for heavens sake, I should be able to take care of my own children 100% of the time! I was worried about my reaction, subconsciously, and ushered them inside. My parents explained that they asked if they could come home, so they drove them home. I thanked them, closed the door, and immediately was on edge. Every time a voice was raised I snapped at them to keep quiet, their dad was trying to rest. They had been home for probably less than an hour when I decided to take them out front to let them run around and hopefully wear themselves out. I was changing Ruby's diaper right before I headed downstairs to go out with the kids. That's when I started bawling. I was so upset that my parents didn't just think to tell my kids "too bad, you're staying with us for a little while longer" and I was overwhelmed with the idea that Trenton could have been killed in his accident. I was SO grateful that his injuries weren't worse, but the what ifs were always on my mind. It was so so scary to think about. I was praying that my parents would be prompted to drive back and pick up the kids after, only to reconsider my prayer with the thought that *you will get help after you do everything you can*, so I thought, gosh. I'm going to have to do this. It's so crazy to look back and see myself panicking over those extra few unexpected hours with my kids, that that time effected me so much.

I had finished changing Ruby and finished crying. My kids had, of course, gone outside before I got downstairs. (They were supposed to wait.) I walked out through the garage ready to yell at them for heading outside without an adult, when I saw a car pull up. I didn't recognize it, and I put my yelling on hold to see what this person wanted. I didn't want any visitors, I didn't want to answer any questions, and Trent was resting so he didn't want to see anyone at that time either. Out of the car came Jon Poulsen, He said something about him and his son being on their way home from taking donuts somewhere or something and he had the thought to stop by and see how we were doing. I don't recall our exchange entirely, but I think I mentioned something about the kids. He offered to have them come hang out at their house for as long as I needed. He said they had people coming over for dinner, but they'd be happy to just let them hang until after then even, if that would be helpful. I started tearing up again. He listened to a prompting, and because of that, my prayer was answered. Completely unexpected, and completely needed. My kids needed that, and I needed that.

I started having more of these kinds of moments, where I was able to do all the things I needed to to take care of my family, but I'd kind of get panicky. Thankfully, none were as bad as this first time it happened. But something in me was changed a little. After Trenton was completely recovered, except for his hearing and some chiropractic work, he came home from work and asked me if I was okay. I nodded my head and asked why he'd ask that. He said he thought that I had been sort of checked out lately. I gave that some thought and realized that yes, I had been checked out. And I didn't care. I'd had the IUD put in, and so we assumed it was an effect of the hormones from that. I pretty much quit trying. And I didn't care. The kids spent their last 5 or 6 weeks of summer watching shows. And I didn't care. I'm the person who judges other people for letting the TV babysit. But I had turned into the person who not only says yes to their kids when they ask for a show, but offers one if they don't ask. And I really didn't care. I had checked out.

After giving the IUD a few weeks to "settle", I was still feeling unlike myself, so I went in for a follow up to have the IUD removed. When discussing my symptoms, my doctor remarked that she didn't think what I was describing was related to the IUD, she thought I had postpartum depression. I started tearing up, because I was grateful to have a name and a reason for my change. It wasn't the new me, it was an emotionally sick me. And I had hoped that because it was "postpartum", that that meant it would go away in a little bit.

It hasn't gone away, but I think I've gotten a little better at pretending to care. I don't think I'm fooling anyone who really knows me, but I'm definitely trying to be more conscientious about how I act and look. I'm trying to "fake it till I make it". My doctor had discussed getting a prescription for depression if I felt like it was getting worse. I don't think it's ever gotten worse, but it definitely hasn't gone away.

And I don't really think it had anything to do with postpartum. I think it was like PTSD, but as a survivor. Trenton suffered something super traumatic, and I had the stress side effect from it.

I'm still a good mom. I love my kids very much - and I don't get frazzled by them anymore like I did that first while after the accident. I was able to be a single parent with an invalid spouse for a month +. I survived that. But I don't think my brain survived it. I definitely feel like this is the new me, but I'm confident that it's not truly. Meaning, while I feel like this feeling of hopelessness and lack of caring will never go away, I know that eventually it will.

I don't truly know the cause of my depression or anxiety or stress or whatever THIS is, but I do know that it happens a lot, to a lot of people. I had a friend confide in me that she also has PPD, after I mentioned that my doctor said I had it. I had PPD after Mackenzi was born, but it was very very different than whatever this is. I was very sad all the time. I cried every time I fed her at night. I honestly don't remember her as a baby, from about 3 weeks until about 12ish months is a complete blank.

When my doctor told me I had PPD, besides being relieved, I was also a little scared. I was nervous how people would react. I was afraid that I would be looked at differently. This is part of why I'm writing about it, because I think of someone like me who maybe isn't as strong to be okay with their situation and how lonely it must feel. I do know that I'm not the only one who feels like this. I also know that many people feel like this and don't say a thing. Ever. To anyone. That's their choice. But it makes it harder, because it adds to the negative stigma associated with mental illnesses.

So, thank you for the therapy! And hopefully this'll add awareness to the minds of those who read it. Of what, I don't know. But it's a real thing, and it's okay to have it, and it's hard to have it, but there it is. May it be gone as fast as a NW snowfall. Or faster, that's okay too. We'll see.