After I woke up in the padded room, it took me days to figure out what was going on. I remember waking up and being so disoriented. I saw the door to the room and it was open. I wondered out and found the nurse's station. I asked where my room was and they showed me. I remember not being able to sleep so I wondered back out into the common area. I was trying desperately to figure out what was happening and how I could get out of there.
I was still sore from the c-section and had been breastfeeding Landon before the hospitalization. I was so worried about pumping breast milk for Landon. I was told that I could pump at the hospital, but Jason decided that breastfeeding was just too much for me. I was devastated when we had to stop due to my illness and the medication I was on. It was the only way I felt close to the baby and I just enjoyed that special time with just me and Landon so much. That was really difficult for me.
There was a certain time when you could use the phone and it took me forever to realize that. Once I figured that out, I would sit at the phone and just push numbers. I couldn't remember anyone's phone number. I finally remembered my mom's and I finally figured out Jason's. I remember the first time I called Jason I was so nervous. What a relief it was to hear his voice! It was also very comforting to talk to my mom. I am so glad I was able to remember their phone numbers. I could only talk for a limited amount of time, but it sure did help me. As long as it took me to figure out the process to make and receive calls, it took me that long to figure out everything about the hospital. It was like my life was in a million puzzle pieces and I was slowly putting them all back together.
At first, I wouldn't release any information to Jason because I was afraid he wouldn't be able to handle my diagnosis. I later found out that this upset him because he was constantly trying to call to get updates on my condition. He was worried sick. Finally, I did sign a paper giving them permission to update Jason, but I think that took days as well since I was so confused about everything.
I wrote a lot. I would sit up at night and write letters to Jason telling him how I wanted to get better for him and Landon. I would write that all I wanted to be was a good wife and a good mother. I met a lot of nice people in the hospital that were really sick. Everyone was so supportive of each other. I would get 15 minutes each day to talk to my psychiatrist - the one person who has the power to sign you out of that place. Because Jason had to make the decision to sign me in, they had to keep me for at least 72 hours. I then had to sign myself in or they could have taken me to court. I felt like my psychiatrist in the hospital was too busy to really listen to me. I would try to explain what was going on - I would have lists and notes of what I wanted to talk to her about - and she would rush me or cut me off. It was really upsetting. I thought I was never going to get out of there, but at the same time I was afraid to leave.
My story - when you read it all - seems like a movie. Like it couldn't have really happened to an actual living person. I can't believe it did happen to me. Staying in a psychiatric unit was both comforting and scary. I was offered drugs once, I had friends in there that had dealt drugs, I had friends that were undergoing electroshock therapy, friends who had been to jail. It was a whole different world, but I was in a place with other people that were suffering from some form of mental illness and that was comforting. People who understood and didn't judge me. I just wish I would have not been the only person who was dealing with postpartum psychosis. It would have been so helpful to have someone else in the hospital going through the same thing.
I remember the day I was finally released from the hospital. It was a good day, but I was full of anxiety. A walking bag of nerves. Jason and I went straight to Costco to get a membership and I remember feeling SO overwhelmed there. Looking back now I know that they released me too soon. Six nights was not enough time. I should have stayed longer. I was still not well. A high percentage of women who suffer from postpartum psychosis develop depression. Little did I know I was headed into a severe depression that would lead to two more hospitalizations.
The second hospitalization was at the same place, St. John's Hospital. I stayed there for 4 nights. After my release, I went back to work and quickly realized that I had gone back to work too soon. I am so glad I was strong enough to know I needed more help. That this illness was bigger than I was.
The last and final hospitalization was at Jefferson Regional - where I had given birth. There, I was able to find the right mix of medication and I have been doing well ever since with just a few relapses, but nothing as serious as when I was hospitalized. My last hospital stay was for 7 nights and 8 days (I think). Jefferson Regional Medical Center was the last place I thought would be able to really help me. I thank God I chose to go there the last time. I have a new psychiatrist, too, and she is wonderful! She always makes me feel like she has time for me and listens to what I have to say.
I have made the decision to go back to getting therapy. I plan to make an appointment for that at the end of October. It will be a good way to end 2011 and will help make a good start to 2012. I am happy that this chapter in my life is over and that I finally feel like I am moving forward.
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