Bad to Worse

Thank you all for reading my blog and for the comments on Facebook. It really means a lot to me.

I had my second child, Phillip, on May 14th 2010. It was a pretty simple labor and it was a great surprise since we didn't find out the baby's gender. I felt 90% confident it was a boy though. My first child is a girl and it was such a different pregnancy. The pregnancy was much harder on me emotionally and physically.
When we brought Phillip home from the hospital it was such an easy transition. It seemed too good to be true. He was a really great baby. I didn't get much sleep, but tried to get in some naps or go to bed early. I cried a lot for the first two weeks after he came home. Then the crying stopped.
Around six weeks after having Phillip, I had so much anxiety. I couldn't sleep and my thoughts started racing. I would be so anxious about the baby. I keep worrying about him and he was sound asleep. At my appointment I talked to my doctor about this and she prescribed some Ambien to help me sleep. Who wants to take a sleeping med when you are going to be woken up every two hours to breastfeed? I didn't take the Ambien.
I just chalked my anxiety up to my husband leaving for Kenya to lead a volunteer trip. We had planned this trip a year ago and we were all on board for him to be gone for a little over two weeks. I had family coming to help me out and I would be fine.
My husband, Phill, left on July 7th, 2010. We both left with tears in our eyes and aching hearts. The next two days were awful. I was so anxious and depressed that I couldn't even function. My sister and her husband came to the rescue. I called my mom and dad and they demanded I come home with the kids. I packed up my three year old daughter, Natalie, and my little son. I made arrangements for the two foster children to stay with family.
I decided I would probably feel better once I finally got some sleep. My mom and dad would help with the baby so I could sleep. I told them about my thoughts of death and feeling hopeless. I felt like my purpose in life was over and my time here on earth was done. I felt like I was disconnected from my body and I was going insane. Everything around me was happening in slow motion. I felt numb. I lost touch with reality and had empty eyes. I did not eat. I didn't sleep much. I couldn't cry anymore because I felt nothing. I looked at my children and knew I loved them, but felt empty. I saw pictures of myself on the wall at my parent's house and I was already dead in those pictures. I thought to myself, "I wonder if my parents will take these pictures of me down when I am dead." It makes me sick to even write that, but that was my lowest point.
I did get caught up on my sleep, but the feeling of emptiness and darkness was still there.