He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” Mark s:34 (NIV)
As I have said before in other posts, people who experience a tragedy in their lives through loss are given a special gift, it is a take on life that is different then anyone else around them. Suddenly, you find yourself reevaluating how you spent your time, your energy, and maybe even your money.
Soon after I lost the baby, I knew that I wanted a clean slate. I could no longer pour energy into unhealthy relationships, spend my time doing things that I wasn't passionate about, and allow my kids to have a mom who wasn't functioning at full capacity. What little energy I had was going to be directed at my family and other close meaningful, healthy relationships, working hard to make my house a home again, and no longer just exist, but live again.
My therapist warned me when I began this journey that I was no longer the "old Sabrina". She prepared me for the fact that I was going to "piss people off" ( I was just amazed those were her actual words). Wow was she right! But, I began to realize that when others disapproved of my decisions or were angry at me for beginning to set boundaries with them, it meant that I was going in the right direction.
Changing is never embraced well. In fact it is usually outright rejected. Once I got past the difficulty of standing my ground, each issue I faced got easier and easier to deal with. After years of people pleasing, I had learned how to say, no. Success!
When I came home from the hospital I spent hours in a daze just watching my kids play. My every thought was consumed by the baby and the way I was forced to end it's life. I was also consumed with the fact I almost didn't make it home to the children playing right in front of me.
I often hear it said that "almost" doesn't count. I would argue that almost dying, is when "almost" does count for something. I thought a lot about what legacy I would have left behind for my kids had I died. I would have left them with the memory of a mom who was overworked, stressed, unhappy, and caught up in family dysfunction and drama that was time consuming. Thank God I had a second chance to change this!
The memory I would have left them with then, is not the mom I am today. It took all of this loss, hurt, and guilt to bring me to a place where I stopped doing what I thought I had to do, and started doing what God wanted me to do.
I returned home to my children and got my house and our lives back in order. I let go of trying to control life around me ( it certainly was not working anyway). I stopped trying to get family to love or accept me. Instead of allowing toxic relationships to continue, I drew a line, a boundary if you will. Those boundaries may not have been received well, but they have brought my home much needed peace. I am learning to stop allowing the disapproval of others to define who I am.
It has been a long eight months, full of a lot of ups and downs. I am a realist. I know there will be more to come. What drives me is knowing that I am choosing to make everything I went though count for something. I was the only one who felt that baby. Yes it was my husband's loss as well, but it was my void in my body. No one but God can comfort that type of emptiness.
So every Thursday when I leave my therapist's office, I know that I am closer and closer to being healed not only from the loss of the baby, the abortion, the pain, the guilt, but from so much more. Everyday I get a little bit stronger.
The baby's 14 weeks were not in vain. Those fourteen weeks changed my life forever.
Showing posts with label Therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Therapy. Show all posts
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Just Laying Back on the Couch
For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace. 1 Corinthians 14:33(KJV)
It was about 5 weeks after I lost the baby that I finally bit the bullet and went to talk to my doctor about symptoms I was experiencing. I was having chest pain, panic attacks, and long crying spells which were followed by periods of numbness. My doctor felt, and I agreed, that I was onbiously suffering from anxiety due to the traumatic loss of the baby and everything combined. She convinced me to try some medication that was going to help with all of my symptoms. Initially I did find relief from my symptoms somewhat,but after a few weeks passed they came back that much stronger.
About 10 weeks into treatment I decided it was probably best to see a Licenced Mental Health Therapist. I didn't want an everyday counselor as I had started having nightmares that were horrific and always included the baby being found dead somewhere and someone asking me why I didn't stop it from happening. I found myself easily startled by noises and unable to do things as simple as go to the store without leaving my cart and walking out. I knew that this type of behaviour was not normal for me under any conditions.
The night I walked into the therapist's office I felt like I was able to take my first real deep breathe in months. My therapist, Helen, was warm and welcoming. I knew I was exactly where I needed to be. That next hour was the best hour I had had in months. So, I went back a second time and then a third. I looked forward to going. As a mom I rarely get a chance to sit down and here I was, being told it was okay to lay back on a comfy leather sofa, put my feet up, and just talk about me. It was a little taste of heaven.
The third visit is when we got down to business. Helen took out a book and began asking questions. I knew we were completing my diagnosis but I wasn't sure exactly what these answers and questions were leading to. At the end, my diagnosis of Post- Partum Depression and severe anxiety were both overruled by my strong diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
What??
Not only did I have it, it was considered severe as I hit all major five points of diagnosis and all but one of the sub-points. I had never thought of PTSD as anything other than a disorder that soldiers get when they return form war.
I left a little confused but managed to find some humor and relief in the diagnosis. I now knew that these symptoms were not just me acting crazy, but a symptoms that I legitimately could not control. I called my mom, a therapist herself, and told her the news. I had always been an over achiever and here her daughter hit all five points for diagnosis of PTSD. Go me!
Here is what I have learned in the last few weeks about PTSD. The symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder can arise suddenly, gradually, or come and go over time. Sometimes symptoms appear seemingly out of the blue. At other times, they are triggered by something that reminds you of the original traumatic event, such as a noise, an image, certain words, or a smell. While everyone experiences PTSD differently, there are three main types of symptoms:
re-experiencing the traumatic event, avoiding reminders of the trauma, and increased anxiety and emotional reactions.
I decided to take my time and deal with this problem head on. Often we do not seek help out of pride or an assumption that if the symptoms eventually go away, everything will be fine. Truth is if you are not willing to get real with problems, whether they are with your mental health or a marriage crisis, you will eventually hit a wall and crumble. It may not be in a month, a few months or even a year. But it will happen, it always does.
What is getting real? It is facing the truth. It is speaking out loud the about hurt. It is choosing to do the real work to heal, not just pretending all is well and carrying on as normal.
I am not sure what this therapy will include. We haven't even started scratching the surface of therapy as it is desired that a persons symptoms be under control because therapy can cause more trauma.
So, once a week I will be visiting Helen and that super comfy leather sofa. I haven't mentioned it to her yet, but I am thinking if she could bring in a Starbucks Barista for me I am certain it would certainly help my therapy process. Just me, laying back on the sofa with my feet up and a Grande Green Tea Frappuccino with two pumps of hazelnut. Ahh.
It was about 5 weeks after I lost the baby that I finally bit the bullet and went to talk to my doctor about symptoms I was experiencing. I was having chest pain, panic attacks, and long crying spells which were followed by periods of numbness. My doctor felt, and I agreed, that I was onbiously suffering from anxiety due to the traumatic loss of the baby and everything combined. She convinced me to try some medication that was going to help with all of my symptoms. Initially I did find relief from my symptoms somewhat,but after a few weeks passed they came back that much stronger.
About 10 weeks into treatment I decided it was probably best to see a Licenced Mental Health Therapist. I didn't want an everyday counselor as I had started having nightmares that were horrific and always included the baby being found dead somewhere and someone asking me why I didn't stop it from happening. I found myself easily startled by noises and unable to do things as simple as go to the store without leaving my cart and walking out. I knew that this type of behaviour was not normal for me under any conditions.
The night I walked into the therapist's office I felt like I was able to take my first real deep breathe in months. My therapist, Helen, was warm and welcoming. I knew I was exactly where I needed to be. That next hour was the best hour I had had in months. So, I went back a second time and then a third. I looked forward to going. As a mom I rarely get a chance to sit down and here I was, being told it was okay to lay back on a comfy leather sofa, put my feet up, and just talk about me. It was a little taste of heaven.
The third visit is when we got down to business. Helen took out a book and began asking questions. I knew we were completing my diagnosis but I wasn't sure exactly what these answers and questions were leading to. At the end, my diagnosis of Post- Partum Depression and severe anxiety were both overruled by my strong diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
What??
Not only did I have it, it was considered severe as I hit all major five points of diagnosis and all but one of the sub-points. I had never thought of PTSD as anything other than a disorder that soldiers get when they return form war.
I left a little confused but managed to find some humor and relief in the diagnosis. I now knew that these symptoms were not just me acting crazy, but a symptoms that I legitimately could not control. I called my mom, a therapist herself, and told her the news. I had always been an over achiever and here her daughter hit all five points for diagnosis of PTSD. Go me!
Here is what I have learned in the last few weeks about PTSD. The symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder can arise suddenly, gradually, or come and go over time. Sometimes symptoms appear seemingly out of the blue. At other times, they are triggered by something that reminds you of the original traumatic event, such as a noise, an image, certain words, or a smell. While everyone experiences PTSD differently, there are three main types of symptoms:
re-experiencing the traumatic event, avoiding reminders of the trauma, and increased anxiety and emotional reactions.
I decided to take my time and deal with this problem head on. Often we do not seek help out of pride or an assumption that if the symptoms eventually go away, everything will be fine. Truth is if you are not willing to get real with problems, whether they are with your mental health or a marriage crisis, you will eventually hit a wall and crumble. It may not be in a month, a few months or even a year. But it will happen, it always does.
What is getting real? It is facing the truth. It is speaking out loud the about hurt. It is choosing to do the real work to heal, not just pretending all is well and carrying on as normal.
I am not sure what this therapy will include. We haven't even started scratching the surface of therapy as it is desired that a persons symptoms be under control because therapy can cause more trauma.
So, once a week I will be visiting Helen and that super comfy leather sofa. I haven't mentioned it to her yet, but I am thinking if she could bring in a Starbucks Barista for me I am certain it would certainly help my therapy process. Just me, laying back on the sofa with my feet up and a Grande Green Tea Frappuccino with two pumps of hazelnut. Ahh.
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