Postpartum Panic:
It begins.
Nov. 18th, 2015It was the night before I was scheduled to give birth, and of course all I could think about was the following day. My original birth plan called for spontaneous labor, but the days passed, the baby kept (thankfully) growing, and miserable doesn't even begin to describe how I felt.
I would have been pregnant a million times over compared to what was in store that night.
I fell asleep around 11pm but woke drenched in sweat around 1 a.m. I noticed that my skin was tingling, almost like it was burning. I fully awoke and realized that the back of my arms, back of my neck, and my ears were slowly burning from the inside out. It was the same feeling I've experienced several times in my life, but none this intense. The sudden urge to throw up was overwhelming, so I ran to the bathroom and shut the door so I wouldn't wake up my husband. What was wrong with me? I thought I was dying. I was either dying or going to pass out. Either way I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wanted to wake up my husband to help me but I was afraid of scaring him. I think honestly I was afraid of him seeing me in this state and wondering why he chose to marry someone with so many problems.
So many thoughts overwhelmed me at once.
What if I panic during labor? What if the induction doesn't work? What if somethings wrong with my baby? What if my first son feels neglected? How can I love two children? What if I can't do it? What if the epidural doesn't work? What if the IV doesn't go in? What if I pass out? What if I die during labor? What if my baby dies during labor? What if we both die? What if.....?
I felt so hopeless and helpless, fearing that I was either dying or doomed to feel like this for the rest of my life. I didn't know what to do, so I cried out to God, the very God that I had neglected for several months now- God please help me!
I was able to calm myself down by convincing myself that I was not going in to have the induction the following morning. I would wait until it was spontaneous and I had no choice. After another hour of worry, I finally fell back asleep and awoke the next morning feeling as anxious as ever.
November 19th, 2015
Everyone's well wishes flooded my phone and the excitement on my husband and mother's faces convinced me to at least go to the hospital and discuss my concerns with my doctor. I almost threw up several times on the way there.After two hours of contemplating with the doctor and nurses whether I could do this, I decide to try and take it slow, knowing at anytime I could still back out. Throughout the next 32 hours, the panic came and went, and though I don't like to admit it, the doctor did allow me some anxiety medication for relief- although not enough to put a dent in how I was feeling. Coincidentally, with the anxiety medication came anxiety.
What if I kill my baby by taking this? What if there's some unknown harmful effect? What if the baby stops breathing because of a slowed heart-rate? What if I pass out and can't give birth? What if this makes me too drowsy to push and I have to have a c-section? What if they accidentally cut the baby during the c-section? What if he dies on the way to Children's hospital?
My hands were shaking, my heart pounding, my senses on overload.
November 20th, 2015
I was not progressing like I should have been, so around 12 p.m. on November 20th, my doctor decided to break my water. As scared as I was, I knew I had already come this far. The sensation of your water breaking is not one that an anxious person enjoys. It was a traumatizing event, and I was lucky enough to have my doctor reassuring me that all was well and normal. About ten minutes after she broke my water, I experienced the worst pain I have ever felt. This was it, contractions were here and they were real. I started yelling for the epidural, thinking there was no way I could endure the pain much longer. The epidural took courage because of a previous bad experience that I had with one while birthing my first son. It was the hardest thing I have ever done- to sit still and let them put the needle in my back. Honestly, I took myself away from the room. I closed my eyes and found myself whispering Jesus help me. Please Jesus. Help me.. help me." It didn't phase me when my whispers became small cries. I am truly convinced that I only made it through the epidural without a panic attack by the Grace of God.
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| The first time I laid eyes on Maddox Jude McColey |
"This is our hope, this is a promise... out of these ashes, beauty will rise."
-Stephen Curtis Chapman, Beauty Will Rise
