Sharing My Story

Writing my story has proved to be a journey in itself.

I’ve wrestled back and forth with myself on how to approach my recovery story. Truth is, I don’t feel as if I’m in recovery because I still battle hard every day. When I was at a dark point in my life, trying to get pregnant, leaving teaching to start my own business and transitioning medications, I got involved with NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness). I had a scheduled meeting once a week with other individuals also telling their stories. Learning and growing from these wonderful but complicated humans; celebrating our triumphs and sympathizing with our tribulations.

While trying to get pregnant and going through other difficult times of my life, I always turn to DIY Therapy.

As I learned more and more about NAMI, I understood that they believe that recovery is a process or a self-directed change to improve one’s health and wellness. I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment. I understand that recovery is defined differently by each person based on their individual priorities and goals.

By textbook definition, I know recovery means a return to a normal state of health, mind or strength and I’m not quite sure what “Normal” is. It is different for everyone. I don’t know if I’ve ever been normal and I’m not sure if I ever will be or even want to be. But I know what my baseline is and that is how I gauge my health mentally and physically. Surpassing my childhood trauma is my pregnancy and post partum journey. This part of my recovery is the most difficult and one that I am still actively working on every day, almost three years later. Everyone’s story is meant to be heard. This is my story and my journey alone.

My first week out of the hospital home with Vienna. I was never was able to have that bonding time at home.

I often share my Maternal Mental Health story to help mothers feel they are not alone. My hope for them is to have the courage to speak up about their stories in a safe space with their healthcare team. Maternal Mental Health and Birth Trauma is not shared enough. I do not let that deter me from sharing my story, no matter how embarrassed or alone I may feel, because if I can resonate with just one person, then my job is complete.

I have always been in and out in therapy, with divorced parents, severe pmdd, anxiety and depression. Being in talk therapy in conjunction with the right medicine and hormone replacement therapy is where I am able to feel my best at this point in my life. Even if my best is struggling each day, I can remind myself that joy and sorrow can exist at the same time.

Severely swollen with high blood pressure that they attributed to normal pregnancy symptoms as well as Gestational Diabetes.

In hospital with Kidney stones at only 23 weeks pregnant.

My Maternal Health journey, now almost three years post partum, was a difficult one. I was 38 weeks pregnant, anxious and very sick with many health problems throughout those nine months. The doctors attributed each issue to “pregnancy” or “mental health” and I felt belittled. I knew in my heart it was more than that. I was not able to take my routine anxiety medicine throughout my pregnancy, and I had severe health symptoms.

Trying to keep myself busy and the racing heart and thoughts at bay.

I called my OBGYN and Psychiatrist. I asked if we could move up the c-section date due to my anxiety, heart palpitations and shortness of breath. I told her I was at a breaking point and wanted to hit my head against a wall, I was so frustrated and physically ill. The OBGYN told me to go to the Hospital to talk with the Perinatologist and Psychiatrist on staff,  she sounded hopeful we could move up the c-section date. I went to the hospital with hope and walked out in tears and humiliated.

My OBGYN turned out to be untrustworthy. When I entered the labor and delivery floor, I was brought to a room that was being dismantled by the custodian as I watched. I stared in disbelief and confusion as the window treatments and blinds were taken down, the phone cord unplugged, the trash cans and doctor materials removed, and pictures taken off the wall. The nurse closed the door and said “Your Doctor said you wanted to kill yourself. Do you want to do that?” I didn’t know what to say. I broke into hysterics, I told her “No, there’s a misunderstanding”. My thoughts raced and my questions were erratic…”How could she say that? Why am I being treated like this? Can’t she see that I am sick and anxious and I’m worried about me and my baby? The nurses felt terrible for me and comforted me as best as they could, I was thankful for them during this time.

They wanted to put a crisis person in my room but my husband who is a psychologist, said “No, what we need is to see the specialist right away.”  When we met with the Specialist and Psychiatrist they told me I could take my anxiety medicine at this point in my pregnancy. However, the betrayal from my Doctor made me feel even more helpless and misunderstood. No matter how much love and support my husband gave me, I felt like there was something wrong and I was being ignored by care team. My doctors blamed everything I felt as a normal symptom of pregnancy or anxiety due to my history.

Every second felt like a minute, every minute like an hour, and every hour like a day.

For the next week I felt extreme anxiety, but had hope I was at the end of my pregnancy journey. My water broke early and my daughter was on her way. Working on my birth trauma since those days has been very difficult work to say the least.

Trying to get through induction with severe headaches and nausea (all attributed to normal pregnancy).

My OBGYN once again made me feel small, as she pushed us into having a natural birth after months of talking about a C-Section. I labored for 24 hours with no progress. The result was an emergency c-section where my daughter’s heart rate dropped while the cord was wrapped around her neck. She came into this world a healthy baby girl, but I wasn’t. Laying dormant for the next two days, was a heart issue I must’ve been battling throughout those 38 weeks. I went home with my newborn and went back to the ER the next day with heart failure.

The Doctor explaining my heart issue during the echocardiogram.

Scared isn’t the right word to describe how I felt in that moment leaving with my husband for the ER in the middle of the night without our newborn and not knowing when I would come home. With my heart rate at 44 and my blood pressure over 200 they were afraid of a stroke. What pregnancy did to me was not “normal”, it was called mitral valve regurgitation and it was real. As real as the anxiety and fear in my chest as I stayed in the hospital without my husband and four day old baby.

While on the road to getting healthy again, I worked on my DIY Therapy, being as creative as I could be with my C section scar belt on, interchangeably with DBT therapy and new medication.

My blood pressure improved after three months, but the next year and a half was a battle. I was in a post partum maternal outpatient program with DBT therapy; where I could share even more maltreatment stories, I learned a lot about myself and what I am capable of.

Now I’m with a good health team and in a good place. My journey continues with good days and bad days, healthy days and sick days, restful days and days where I can’t stop moving. But my journey is still going and this journey is mine. With my family, I am able to be myself surrounded with love and understanding. I am grateful to be at this point in my life. My heart goes out to those who may not be there yet or may have not have the support.

If you are suffering, if you feel like you’re the only one; I want you to know I feel you and you are not alone.

Love, Jackie xoxo

If you are in need of support visit NAMI.org and find a chapter near you.

There is always someone to chat with and find more information by calling +18009506264 or text “helpline” to 62640

If you’re in immediate crisis call or text 988