Post by sazzythom on May 24, 2009 19:09:06 GMT
Hi All
After a few days of writing i finally finished my story and although i wasn't sure about posting it i decided it will prob help. start at the beginning and all that.
I must also apologise for the length of it. I will understand if its too long for some people but thanks for taking the time if you do.
My Story
At 18 I moved 200 miles away from home and met who I thought was the love of my life. He turned out to be my worst nightmare. After several months of abuse both physical and sexual with a touch of mental to make it complete I was a shadow of my former self. I was scared to leave believing the abuse in some way was my own fault believing that it would be like this for the rest of my life. After a year of terrifying abuse he stole a car and wrapped it around a tree killing himself instantly. I was finally free or so I thought.
At 20 I met my husband and at 22 we were married. I couldn’t believe that someone would look at me again let alone marry me and vow to love me for the rest of my life. I started to believe in myself and put the past behind me.
At 24 Found out I was 8 weeks pregnant even though I was told I was infertile due to having breast cancer 3 times in 5 years. We were over the moon and so excited.
At 9 weeks I went to see my GP as I was bringing up blood with my morning sickness. She admitted me to hospital where they did tests. They found out it was because of torn oesophagus and was nothing to worry about as it would heal by itself.
The next 19 weeks went by without much hassle.
At 28 weeks I was admitted with severe pains down left side of my abdomen. I was told I had a severe infection and sent home. From then on I was in hospital with severe upper abdominal pain every 3 days until at 31 weeks my waters broke. I had a very Painful internal when doctor at local hospital said they hadn’t broken but was in premature labour. I was then transferred to different hospital with a NICU suite. Where they performed another internal and confirmed my waters had indeed broken and I was in labour. Although I could have given birth at any moment my husband left and went home to get good nights sleep. I was 2 days hooked up to drip to stop labour and monitor for babies heart beat. I was Discharged 1 and a half weeks later and an induction was booked for when I hit 34 weeks.
I Spent 1 and a half weeks going back and forth into local hospital every day for monitoring. This was to include blood tests, monitoring of baby’s heart beat, internals, urine samples and measuring and weighing.
I attended the hospital at 34 weeks to be induced but was sent home due to lack of beds and told to return tomorrow. I went back a day later and at 3pm first pessary was inserted. 2nd Pessary inserted at 11 after very painful internal due to a posterior cervix. Next day I was made to have epidural so they could examine me. I had always hoped that I would only have one if I really really needed it and felt that the decision that I could not cope had been made for me. I wasn’t dilating but they started a drip to bring on contractions. 67 hours later contractions were lasting 2mins every 2 mins so no let up and no dilatation. Baby’s heart rate dropped to 31 so it was decided an emergency c section was to be performed. Luckily I had the epidural already in. When I entered the room what hit me was no longer was this a private affair. There was not only a consultant and registrar but 4 midwives, 2 anaesthetists, 2 paediatric consultants, 1 paediatric nurse and the recovery nurse. This was on top of fat me and my husband!
7 Mins later Kezia Joyce was born weighing 4lb 15oz. Kezia was unable to breathe for herself so all I saw of her was them running out the door to get her to intensive care. I was sent to recovery where I told them I was feeling sick but was told couldn’t be sick on epidural. Finally was told that I had a girl and she was ok but not great. I was then sent down to the postnatal ward and was promptly sick everywhere. Then my husband was told he would not be able to stay at 2am!! 25 miles from home and unable to drive!! So now had I not only had my daughter taken away from me but my husband sent away as well. I felt so alone.
Woke up at about 4 in agony so was given morphine slept again till 8 when I woke up and used phone and internet at bedside to tell people of big arrival. Asked to see my baby but was told until I was off the drips then I wouldn’t be able to get up to see her. So feeling really sick I ate and drank as much as I could just to get the drip out of me. Drip was taken out at 1pm. I was finally allowed to see daughter at 6.30 pm, 15 and half hours after having her. After having to make a nuisance of myself to the midwifes my husband was allowed to wheel me down to the NICU suite. On entry of NICU the smell hit me I can’t describe it but it was just awful and after the smell came the silence. A place full of babies and not one cry or gurgle just beeps from machines. Very eerie. Nothing on earth could have prepared me for what I was about to see. A tiny frail little body laid in what looked like a big egg with drips and needles and wires and tubes everywhere. Couldn’t see her little face through it all. I think this affected me more than I knew at the time. When back on the ward I was asked about feeding. I was adamant that I was going to breastfeed so they gave me all the gear to express until Kezia was well enough to suck
3 Days later the baby blues set in. The midwife on duty was great, she had had a prem baby as well and at 2.15 am she took me to the NICU suite. There and then was the first time I saw her eyes and the precious first cuddle. I finally felt more like a mum but still felt detached.
Soon I was transferred back to local hospital and Kezia was transferred to their SCBU. This is where I feel I went down hill. I couldn’t establish breastfeeding and refused to give up whilst getting little or no support from midwives. Eventually giving in and giving her a bottle. Kezia was very jaundice (orange not yellow) and spent 2 nights and days on what’s called a billi bed. This seemed to do the trick. After a week I was told that if Kezia had gained weight the next day we could go home. They weighed her the next day and she had lost yet more weight and was now a tiny 3lb 11oz but they were wiling to discharge me and I agreed as I just wanted to get home. Before they would let me leave I had to attend a short course on resuscitation on babies. This really put the fear of hell into me and I went home terrified she would stop breathing. I spent most nights waking hundreds of times to check she was still breathing and lived in constant fear of loosing her. The first few nights at home were hard. She was so small she was feeding every 2 hours and then taking 45 mins to wind meaning I wasn’t sleeping at all.
It was when I returned home that my thoughts started to focus on the abuse I had endured years earlier. I started to believe the mental abuse I received back then was true. I started to get flashbacks and nightmares that he hadn’t died and that he was coming back for me and what ever he’d done to me he would make Kezia endure 10 fold. I started having panic attacks and seeing him everywhere. I started to believe that everyone wanted to hurt me and my daughter and that was the reason I placed on this earth. I didn’t even trust my husband.
I thought I was super mum and would insist on my mother taking me places to do shopping and push Kezia around in the pram during the day. I loved it when people admired Kezia because she was getting the affection I wasn’t and couldn’t give her.
2 weeks after her discharge from hospital we went to register her and I noticed that she wasn’t feeding very well but shrugged it off. By the evening I was all a panic. She was floppy, unresponsive, wouldn’t wake for feeds and wouldn’t feed so off to the doctors we went. She was admitted to hospital but I felt unable to stay with her so I went home at night got a good nights rest and came back at 10 in the morning where I stayed till 8pm. 2 Weeks passed and Kezia is discharged once then readmitted then discharged again. In all this time I started to have the upper abdominal pains I had during my pregnancy and one night I was on an adult ward in the same hospital my daughter was on the children’s ward. I was diagnosed with Gall stones and awaited a referral for surgery
My mum then went home and at this time they lived 200 miles away. I was left on my own with a tiny baby for the first time. Felt like I was getting no support from my husband and was going down hill fast. When she was 6 weeks old she had 2 fits which they are now calling febrile convulsions. This was another week spent at the hospital. I came up with every excuse I could think of to not have to stay with her at night. My husband was very unsupportive at this time and failed to come to hospital because he was doing things with a mate that night. After his daughter and wife had just been through hell!!
My HV then started to notice my mood was very low and did a test on me which came up that I was depressed. She referred me to my GP who started me on a mild anti depressant and sleeping tablet, and Homestart. I started to attend their mums in mind group which helped a little. At my lowest ebb I felt very angry at both my husband and my daughter. I blamed my husband for not supporting me enough and I felt angry at him so one night I told him to leave as I really thought I was going to stab him. I think it really scared him and he left. I blamed him for getting me pregnant and felt let down by him. I blamed Kezia for being born for making me ill and for ruining my life. I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. What was supposed to be the best time of my life turned into a nightmare. Nobody understood me I felt like they all looked at me with sympathy feeling sorry for me. I hated it. I felt out of control which scared the hell out of me. I was so used to being in control. My marriage was in trouble, the house was a mess. I’d been left in that delivery room and some other person, some alien had taken over me. My heart was breaking and I felt so alone. My husband came home from church one day to tell me a friend who had also had a baby was going through it as well. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how she felt I didn’t need to hear her problems as well. I just didn’t care. I started to have thoughts of hurting my daughter. Actually not hurting her but torturing her and killing her in the most painful ways I could think of. It made me fearful of getting anywhere near her in case I actually did what my brain was telling me to do. I also had fears of other people hurting her like I’d been hurt. This made it very difficult to trust anyone with her including my husband.
When she was 8 weeks old I was admitted to hospital and had surgery to remove my gall stones and gall bladder. Whilst they were operating they split my c section scar so I had 4 new scars and one old one to heal. I caught an infection in one which ended up taking ages to heal because of it. My mood worsened and one mums in mind session I was so bad that the coordinator rang and spoke to my GP who saw me the next day.
By this time I was suicidal, had thoughts of harm to my daughter and husband was crying all the time. I couldn’t leave the house because of panic attacks nor could I look after my daughter for fear of hurting her. My Mum found me trying to take an overdose and almost died herself. I wasn’t until then that I admitted how ill I really was. I went to the GP’s the next day and she got me an emergency referral to the MBU in Birmingham. Who saw me within a week and within 3 days there was a bed for me. Whilst I waited for a bed I went back to my parent’s house for a few days away. I reached my lowest and my dad found me about to jump off a bridge. I think it killed him inside to see me this way. All he had ever wanted for us was the best and after suffering with depression for years himself he knew nothing he said or did could help. But I guess in a way that helped, knowing that he wasn’t judging me. When I went home I was admitted into the MBU. They diagnosed me with OCD, Severe depression, bonding issues and post traumatic stress syndrome. At the time I was admitted I wasn’t caring for my daughter at all (due to panic attacks and the thoughts of severe harm to her) and the unit slowly but surely built this up. I started by just changing a nappy and within a couple of months I was doing most of the normal things. They increased my anti d and within time put me on an anti psychotic as well. I started to attend psychology appointments but felt these didn’t help as I didn’t feel able to confide in her.
6 Months later I was discharged into the care of my local mental health team and children’s services (who had been asked to support me when discharged) and my daughter was placed under child protection which meant a constant string of visitors from all professions and constant appointments. I took just over a week of this, when my mental health deteriorated again and started to hear voices telling me to do awful things to myself, husband and daughter. I was readmitted to the MBU where I stayed for another 3 months. Social services were so worried along with my consultant that they agreed I was not to be left alone with her at all. This meant my husband giving up work which he agreed to do but did put an even bigger strain on the home. My CPN visited regularly and soon started CBT with me. I found this helpful not only to my illness but stressful day to day situations.
2 months later my parents moved into the area and I thought things were going to be easier. They were for a while then after a blazing row with my husband I left home and took my daughter with me. We stayed at my parents for 2 months and things got so much better so I returned home. I decided that my marriage was worth fighting for and although my husband had let me down in the past I knew he would never leave me alone again. I found the love again that had attracted me to him in the first place. Although at the time I know I blamed him I now knew that it was just the illness and that everyone makes mistakes and he hadn’t meant to do or say anything that made me feel like I did.
3 months later the voices started again but this time I was unable to control my self I attacked my husband with a knife. I was admitted to the local mental health unit where I stayed for 3 weeks. They changed all my meds and added to them and I felt better than ever.
Since then I’ve been seeing a psychologist again who, this time I feel able to confide in. He’s giving me EMDR therapy which is a bit weird but it seems to be working. It’s leaving me tired after and having flashbacks but I know it will get easier. I’m now able to not only trust my husband but both sets of our parents with Kezia. But the thought of someone doing to Kezia what I had to endure scares me silly. I know I can trust people but I just can’t. I don’t want to leave her at a nursery because I’m not there to protect her and if I ever found a nursery with any males working there I just wouldn’t be able to leave her not even for 2 seconds. This makes life really difficult but I hope in time this will let up.
Although it has been a long road which we have not finished journeying on things have improved. I love my husband more than ever, seeing him so good with not only me but our daughter makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Although it’s been hard he’s stayed with me throughout. Many men would crumple at such a challenge. I still have my days but they are getting fewer every month and everyone is supportive. My husband now knows when to help and when to leave me. I know that with help from all my family, friends and most importantly God I can come out the other side stronger than ever.
After a few days of writing i finally finished my story and although i wasn't sure about posting it i decided it will prob help. start at the beginning and all that.
I must also apologise for the length of it. I will understand if its too long for some people but thanks for taking the time if you do.
My Story
At 18 I moved 200 miles away from home and met who I thought was the love of my life. He turned out to be my worst nightmare. After several months of abuse both physical and sexual with a touch of mental to make it complete I was a shadow of my former self. I was scared to leave believing the abuse in some way was my own fault believing that it would be like this for the rest of my life. After a year of terrifying abuse he stole a car and wrapped it around a tree killing himself instantly. I was finally free or so I thought.
At 20 I met my husband and at 22 we were married. I couldn’t believe that someone would look at me again let alone marry me and vow to love me for the rest of my life. I started to believe in myself and put the past behind me.
At 24 Found out I was 8 weeks pregnant even though I was told I was infertile due to having breast cancer 3 times in 5 years. We were over the moon and so excited.
At 9 weeks I went to see my GP as I was bringing up blood with my morning sickness. She admitted me to hospital where they did tests. They found out it was because of torn oesophagus and was nothing to worry about as it would heal by itself.
The next 19 weeks went by without much hassle.
At 28 weeks I was admitted with severe pains down left side of my abdomen. I was told I had a severe infection and sent home. From then on I was in hospital with severe upper abdominal pain every 3 days until at 31 weeks my waters broke. I had a very Painful internal when doctor at local hospital said they hadn’t broken but was in premature labour. I was then transferred to different hospital with a NICU suite. Where they performed another internal and confirmed my waters had indeed broken and I was in labour. Although I could have given birth at any moment my husband left and went home to get good nights sleep. I was 2 days hooked up to drip to stop labour and monitor for babies heart beat. I was Discharged 1 and a half weeks later and an induction was booked for when I hit 34 weeks.
I Spent 1 and a half weeks going back and forth into local hospital every day for monitoring. This was to include blood tests, monitoring of baby’s heart beat, internals, urine samples and measuring and weighing.
I attended the hospital at 34 weeks to be induced but was sent home due to lack of beds and told to return tomorrow. I went back a day later and at 3pm first pessary was inserted. 2nd Pessary inserted at 11 after very painful internal due to a posterior cervix. Next day I was made to have epidural so they could examine me. I had always hoped that I would only have one if I really really needed it and felt that the decision that I could not cope had been made for me. I wasn’t dilating but they started a drip to bring on contractions. 67 hours later contractions were lasting 2mins every 2 mins so no let up and no dilatation. Baby’s heart rate dropped to 31 so it was decided an emergency c section was to be performed. Luckily I had the epidural already in. When I entered the room what hit me was no longer was this a private affair. There was not only a consultant and registrar but 4 midwives, 2 anaesthetists, 2 paediatric consultants, 1 paediatric nurse and the recovery nurse. This was on top of fat me and my husband!
7 Mins later Kezia Joyce was born weighing 4lb 15oz. Kezia was unable to breathe for herself so all I saw of her was them running out the door to get her to intensive care. I was sent to recovery where I told them I was feeling sick but was told couldn’t be sick on epidural. Finally was told that I had a girl and she was ok but not great. I was then sent down to the postnatal ward and was promptly sick everywhere. Then my husband was told he would not be able to stay at 2am!! 25 miles from home and unable to drive!! So now had I not only had my daughter taken away from me but my husband sent away as well. I felt so alone.
Woke up at about 4 in agony so was given morphine slept again till 8 when I woke up and used phone and internet at bedside to tell people of big arrival. Asked to see my baby but was told until I was off the drips then I wouldn’t be able to get up to see her. So feeling really sick I ate and drank as much as I could just to get the drip out of me. Drip was taken out at 1pm. I was finally allowed to see daughter at 6.30 pm, 15 and half hours after having her. After having to make a nuisance of myself to the midwifes my husband was allowed to wheel me down to the NICU suite. On entry of NICU the smell hit me I can’t describe it but it was just awful and after the smell came the silence. A place full of babies and not one cry or gurgle just beeps from machines. Very eerie. Nothing on earth could have prepared me for what I was about to see. A tiny frail little body laid in what looked like a big egg with drips and needles and wires and tubes everywhere. Couldn’t see her little face through it all. I think this affected me more than I knew at the time. When back on the ward I was asked about feeding. I was adamant that I was going to breastfeed so they gave me all the gear to express until Kezia was well enough to suck
3 Days later the baby blues set in. The midwife on duty was great, she had had a prem baby as well and at 2.15 am she took me to the NICU suite. There and then was the first time I saw her eyes and the precious first cuddle. I finally felt more like a mum but still felt detached.
Soon I was transferred back to local hospital and Kezia was transferred to their SCBU. This is where I feel I went down hill. I couldn’t establish breastfeeding and refused to give up whilst getting little or no support from midwives. Eventually giving in and giving her a bottle. Kezia was very jaundice (orange not yellow) and spent 2 nights and days on what’s called a billi bed. This seemed to do the trick. After a week I was told that if Kezia had gained weight the next day we could go home. They weighed her the next day and she had lost yet more weight and was now a tiny 3lb 11oz but they were wiling to discharge me and I agreed as I just wanted to get home. Before they would let me leave I had to attend a short course on resuscitation on babies. This really put the fear of hell into me and I went home terrified she would stop breathing. I spent most nights waking hundreds of times to check she was still breathing and lived in constant fear of loosing her. The first few nights at home were hard. She was so small she was feeding every 2 hours and then taking 45 mins to wind meaning I wasn’t sleeping at all.
It was when I returned home that my thoughts started to focus on the abuse I had endured years earlier. I started to believe the mental abuse I received back then was true. I started to get flashbacks and nightmares that he hadn’t died and that he was coming back for me and what ever he’d done to me he would make Kezia endure 10 fold. I started having panic attacks and seeing him everywhere. I started to believe that everyone wanted to hurt me and my daughter and that was the reason I placed on this earth. I didn’t even trust my husband.
I thought I was super mum and would insist on my mother taking me places to do shopping and push Kezia around in the pram during the day. I loved it when people admired Kezia because she was getting the affection I wasn’t and couldn’t give her.
2 weeks after her discharge from hospital we went to register her and I noticed that she wasn’t feeding very well but shrugged it off. By the evening I was all a panic. She was floppy, unresponsive, wouldn’t wake for feeds and wouldn’t feed so off to the doctors we went. She was admitted to hospital but I felt unable to stay with her so I went home at night got a good nights rest and came back at 10 in the morning where I stayed till 8pm. 2 Weeks passed and Kezia is discharged once then readmitted then discharged again. In all this time I started to have the upper abdominal pains I had during my pregnancy and one night I was on an adult ward in the same hospital my daughter was on the children’s ward. I was diagnosed with Gall stones and awaited a referral for surgery
My mum then went home and at this time they lived 200 miles away. I was left on my own with a tiny baby for the first time. Felt like I was getting no support from my husband and was going down hill fast. When she was 6 weeks old she had 2 fits which they are now calling febrile convulsions. This was another week spent at the hospital. I came up with every excuse I could think of to not have to stay with her at night. My husband was very unsupportive at this time and failed to come to hospital because he was doing things with a mate that night. After his daughter and wife had just been through hell!!
My HV then started to notice my mood was very low and did a test on me which came up that I was depressed. She referred me to my GP who started me on a mild anti depressant and sleeping tablet, and Homestart. I started to attend their mums in mind group which helped a little. At my lowest ebb I felt very angry at both my husband and my daughter. I blamed my husband for not supporting me enough and I felt angry at him so one night I told him to leave as I really thought I was going to stab him. I think it really scared him and he left. I blamed him for getting me pregnant and felt let down by him. I blamed Kezia for being born for making me ill and for ruining my life. I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. What was supposed to be the best time of my life turned into a nightmare. Nobody understood me I felt like they all looked at me with sympathy feeling sorry for me. I hated it. I felt out of control which scared the hell out of me. I was so used to being in control. My marriage was in trouble, the house was a mess. I’d been left in that delivery room and some other person, some alien had taken over me. My heart was breaking and I felt so alone. My husband came home from church one day to tell me a friend who had also had a baby was going through it as well. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how she felt I didn’t need to hear her problems as well. I just didn’t care. I started to have thoughts of hurting my daughter. Actually not hurting her but torturing her and killing her in the most painful ways I could think of. It made me fearful of getting anywhere near her in case I actually did what my brain was telling me to do. I also had fears of other people hurting her like I’d been hurt. This made it very difficult to trust anyone with her including my husband.
When she was 8 weeks old I was admitted to hospital and had surgery to remove my gall stones and gall bladder. Whilst they were operating they split my c section scar so I had 4 new scars and one old one to heal. I caught an infection in one which ended up taking ages to heal because of it. My mood worsened and one mums in mind session I was so bad that the coordinator rang and spoke to my GP who saw me the next day.
By this time I was suicidal, had thoughts of harm to my daughter and husband was crying all the time. I couldn’t leave the house because of panic attacks nor could I look after my daughter for fear of hurting her. My Mum found me trying to take an overdose and almost died herself. I wasn’t until then that I admitted how ill I really was. I went to the GP’s the next day and she got me an emergency referral to the MBU in Birmingham. Who saw me within a week and within 3 days there was a bed for me. Whilst I waited for a bed I went back to my parent’s house for a few days away. I reached my lowest and my dad found me about to jump off a bridge. I think it killed him inside to see me this way. All he had ever wanted for us was the best and after suffering with depression for years himself he knew nothing he said or did could help. But I guess in a way that helped, knowing that he wasn’t judging me. When I went home I was admitted into the MBU. They diagnosed me with OCD, Severe depression, bonding issues and post traumatic stress syndrome. At the time I was admitted I wasn’t caring for my daughter at all (due to panic attacks and the thoughts of severe harm to her) and the unit slowly but surely built this up. I started by just changing a nappy and within a couple of months I was doing most of the normal things. They increased my anti d and within time put me on an anti psychotic as well. I started to attend psychology appointments but felt these didn’t help as I didn’t feel able to confide in her.
6 Months later I was discharged into the care of my local mental health team and children’s services (who had been asked to support me when discharged) and my daughter was placed under child protection which meant a constant string of visitors from all professions and constant appointments. I took just over a week of this, when my mental health deteriorated again and started to hear voices telling me to do awful things to myself, husband and daughter. I was readmitted to the MBU where I stayed for another 3 months. Social services were so worried along with my consultant that they agreed I was not to be left alone with her at all. This meant my husband giving up work which he agreed to do but did put an even bigger strain on the home. My CPN visited regularly and soon started CBT with me. I found this helpful not only to my illness but stressful day to day situations.
2 months later my parents moved into the area and I thought things were going to be easier. They were for a while then after a blazing row with my husband I left home and took my daughter with me. We stayed at my parents for 2 months and things got so much better so I returned home. I decided that my marriage was worth fighting for and although my husband had let me down in the past I knew he would never leave me alone again. I found the love again that had attracted me to him in the first place. Although at the time I know I blamed him I now knew that it was just the illness and that everyone makes mistakes and he hadn’t meant to do or say anything that made me feel like I did.
3 months later the voices started again but this time I was unable to control my self I attacked my husband with a knife. I was admitted to the local mental health unit where I stayed for 3 weeks. They changed all my meds and added to them and I felt better than ever.
Since then I’ve been seeing a psychologist again who, this time I feel able to confide in. He’s giving me EMDR therapy which is a bit weird but it seems to be working. It’s leaving me tired after and having flashbacks but I know it will get easier. I’m now able to not only trust my husband but both sets of our parents with Kezia. But the thought of someone doing to Kezia what I had to endure scares me silly. I know I can trust people but I just can’t. I don’t want to leave her at a nursery because I’m not there to protect her and if I ever found a nursery with any males working there I just wouldn’t be able to leave her not even for 2 seconds. This makes life really difficult but I hope in time this will let up.
Although it has been a long road which we have not finished journeying on things have improved. I love my husband more than ever, seeing him so good with not only me but our daughter makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Although it’s been hard he’s stayed with me throughout. Many men would crumple at such a challenge. I still have my days but they are getting fewer every month and everyone is supportive. My husband now knows when to help and when to leave me. I know that with help from all my family, friends and most importantly God I can come out the other side stronger than ever.