A Yellow Rose on the Door
It has been 8 months and
13 days since I delivered Asher. I can
still vividly remember every part of that day.
But the story lies in between May 24 and now.
While i could sit here
and say that time has healed the wounds, that time has made things better, i'd
be lying. There is no getting over the
loss of your child. There is no moving
past grief, but moving through. Through
online forums and support groups I have met many, many, women who have walked a
very similar path. It has been helpful,
heartbreaking, and terrifying all the same.
Each with their own story, each with separately distinct journeys
through life after still birth.
My story is not poetic,
it is not pretty, and it is not the sunshine, rainbows, and roses I'd wish I'd
be here to tell. But then, as I'm
learning through a long process, no one's is.
I thought I was gliding along fine through my "grief" for the
first few months following Asher's death.
I was sad, I was dreadfully sad.
Crying in the car every day sad as that was my space to grieve. But I figured, that's grief. I had sought out a therapist, a reproductive
specialist therapist, and not because I thought i needed one, or felt i needed
one, but because my OB suggested I do so.
It turns out it was the best decision i have made through this.
My first day with her was
your standard history/questions and trying to figure out how I was really
doing. At the end of the session I
thought I failed that "test" as I was crying so hard at most points
that I couldn't speak. But she kindly
told me I was normal, that of course I was sad and grieving and I was actually
doing remarkably well. I was shocked by
that response but I did realize I wasn't nearly as bad off as some women that
were going through this.
I thought every month
would get easier. Every month would be
less pain, less sadness, and I was going to be just fine. Approximately 5 months after, everything
suddenly went straight downhill. Not
consciously, but something subconsciously.
My anxiety shot straight up out of nowhere. I couldn't sleep. Within days i became clinically depressed,
high anxiety mess. Come to find out I was pregnant again. The hormonal change surely threw my body, my
mind, and my grief straight downhill.
Because I had already been in to see the therapist I quickly contacted
her to tell her something was terribly wrong and i was on a quick downhill
spiral. She immediately got me in to see
her, and contacted my doctor while i was there and i was started on
antidepressants. Something i have never
been on, and something I had always been skeptical of, leery of, and thought I'd
never have to go on. But you see, when you are
in a horribly scary place you can only hope that something will help.
Things I have never
experienced in my life were happening; intrusive thoughts, complete
sleeplessness, hopeless feelings, doomed.
I was sent to a reproductive psychiatrist who diagnosed me with General
Anxiety Disorder, Post partum/perinatal anxiety and depression and OCD. Yes, apparently when my brain gets sick, it
gets really sick. With the help of the
doctors, therapists, friends (many, many friends), and family I have come a
very long way from the deep dark scary place.
But it took months and I'm still in the process of getting back to
"normal" and every day brings a new challenge. It has been a very humbling experience, and a
very eye opening experience. My
skepticism about SSRI drugs has diminished as I witnessed firsthand the help
they provide. I didn't even realize how
disordered my thinking was in the months after I lost Asher until I was
thinking more clearly after about 8 weeks on medication.
Everything I thought I
knew about postpartum depression and anxiety was wrong. I had never dealt with it before and I
honestly believe now that unless you have been there, you can't quite grasp
it. I'm writing to speak out, to share,
and to spread awareness because it's a very scary, lonely place to be when it
hits and you have never been truly educated to it. What was/is going on is a
biological chemical imbalance in the brain.
Postpartum Anxiety, Depression, OCD, is its own animal. It isn't something that you just snap out of,
it's not even being sad. It's a illness
all of its own. I also wasn't aware that a large percentage of
those that are effected by postpartum anxiety/depression has it come on between
4-6 months after birth. If it weren't
for the therapist guiding me through step by step and reassuring me that all
was going to be ok I would have been much worse off. Some women are afraid to reach out for help
for various reasons. I found myself
looking for help everywhere I could.
Through dedicated knowledgeable specialists, friends that have been
through it, friends that haven't but are willing to support me, family, and
research.
I wouldn't trade carrying
Asher for anything. I certainly don't
wish he didn't happen, I wish he had lived after birth. His short life has made a difference, and
while it has been a very challenging time for me I can only hope that I can
help someone else going through it. I
could keep silent like most of the mental illness world because of the stigma
attached to it, but that wouldn't help anyone.
The meaning of the yellow rose. If you have ever been in a labor and delivery ward and noticed a door with a yellow rose on it, it means that it was not a good birthing outcome. They put it on there so every care giver coming through your door is aware that this wasn't a happy ending/a normal delivery. They took pictures before we left of Asher holding the yellow rose, and then placed it in our memory box. To me, a yellow rose signifies life after death, living after loss.
-Jena
