My last sunrise on this front porch. I've been here for a month this time. Was here for a week in June, and two weeks in July. Had them at my house for two weeks in August. Now I suppose I must return to normal life, or my new normal anyway.
My precious daughter-in-law gave birth to these twins 21 months ago via c-section, and the anesthesia didn't work. She felt every cut, rip, tear, tug, pull, yank, and everything else. She kept telling them she could feel it, but they didn't do anything about it. And she has not been the same since. We have all noticed that fact, obviously, but none of us knew the extent of the mental damage. There are whole articles written on c-section trauma, and it mostly stems from those times the anesthesia doesn't work. Had I known ... ooohhhh if only I had known!
And let me say here, before I get too far into this story, that my daughter-in-law and I have an AWESOME relationship. From day one, 7 years ago, I made sure of that fact, and sitting here this morning, I'm so incredibly grateful that I did!
She's reached out for help several times over the past 21 months, beginning with a very inept OB-GYN who should have prescribed a therapy other than Zanax and Paxil concurrently to a harried young mother of newborn twins who, FORTUNATELY, was able to see the danger in the desire to swallow the entire contents of both bottles at once, and so flushed them to save herself. So also should the psychiatric facility have seen the need to pair her up with someone other than an inexperienced intern, twice, to try to deal with troubles so big. (Yes, I know they have supervision, but without experience, they cannot pass along relevant info that they are missing to their supervisor.) As much as I saw, being the mother-in-law, there was only so much I could say, but at least she changed her perception of therapy being for weaklings and began to go. And it helped a little. But just a little. The intern-therapist just kept telling her "it was normal" to feel this way or to feel that way. I didn't agree, but I let it be because at least she was going.
Her intern finished her internship in early May, and my DIL did not seek out someone to take the intern's place. Instead, we watched as she "took a break" from therapy and began a downhill slide. Downhill all the way into a full-blown psychotic episode of delusions and suicidal thoughts. I got a call one Sunday morning in June of heart-breaking sobs and cries and a story that was so "out there" that I immediately packed my bags and got here as quickly as I could. She checked herself in to a psychiatric hospital as soon as my husband and I got here that night, and they kept her for 5 days, prescribed all kinds of drugs, and sent her home with a diagnosis of bi-polar and an appointment with yet another intern. I was completely unimpressed, and am so tired of the diagnosis-of-the-decade of bi-polar. Yes, she had manic and depressive mood swings, but I thought they were symptomatic of a much larger problem, not the problem itself. At that point, I had already concluded PTSD, but the hospital didn't want to hear any of that, and frankly wouldn't speak to any of her family, not even her husband. So we brought her home, and I returned to my home and my job.
I came back down 2 weeks later for July 4th and things weren't all that much better. The intern was a joke (I'm sorry, but the mother of my toddler twin grandchildren is not a college science project!), and DIL was still suicidal. So we got her into a 2-week intensive outpatient program that was good, and helpful, basically a course on life skills, but still not what she needed even tho by this time the delusions had diminished and she was able to separate out reality from delusion. And so, after 2 weeks, I returned home again and back to work.
In August, she brought the babies to our house and spent two weeks enjoying the salt life, had some time at the beach, some zoo, some county fair, started learning to play the piano. And when I saw her slipping downhill, I attributed it to homesickness, and she didn't contradict that.
Unfortunately, she had actually stopped taking her meds. And by mid-September, the psychosis and delusions had returned, and she was again paranoid and suicidal. I packed my bags and got here as quick as I could. This time around, we researched and got her into a good hospital, tho she didn't want to go this time. We had a real challenge getting her there. But this hospital talked to family, all family, and they listened, and she had real time with a real psychiatrist who listened to her whole story and, based on c-section trauma and several childhood traumas, threw out the bi-polar diagnosis and diagnosed her with Complex PTSD. Thank God!!!
We now have her with a therapist who saw her the day she came home, and who is doing Somatic Therapy with her twice a week and will transition to EMDR once she has some stability under her belt. I have had the privilege these past two weeks since she's been home to watch my daughter-in-law transition into this beautiful soul who is facing this painful battle with courage and aplomb!!!! She told me the other day that she felt this blackness descend upon her the day of the c-section and that, for the first time in 21 months, she now feels like the blackness has finally lifted. Praise God! She has a long journey in front of her, but we all finally have hope, for her and for this precious family!
But now I have to return home and leave these babies who I have bonded with so much, and they have bonded with me! How do I explain to them that I'm leaving but I'll be back???? The only thing they'll know is Where's Nana? How do I leave them??? How do I leave these two tiny toddling souls and their laughter and their tears and their sweetness and their silliness and their preciousness, these two little people who OWN my heart???? Don't we have time to read Good Night Moon one more time? I have most definitely shed some tears over the past 24 hours!!!
And upon my return, I have to start looking for employment. The president of our company is in the process of retiring, and the new VP has been doing some housecleaning, and my absences put me on his list. They were kind enough to give me 30 days severance pay, plus remaining unused vacation, plus 2 more days to fill in for the week that I worked short when I ran back down here. After I got over the shock of that phone call which I received after being here a few days, I laid my head down on my pillow that night and all of a sudden the blessing of their decision washed all over me and filled me with relief! I had to thank God for His provision in this time of need. I've been able to take care of the things that have needed taking care of here, focus on the babies, focus on nursing DIL, and focus on helping my precious children and grandchildren heal. And now I head home and focus on my niece's Vegas wedding next weekend and try to return to the "real" world. I think I'll try to round up a bunch of clients when I get home and keep my schedule flexible so I can travel down here more than I've been able to. Because this is real life down here, too!
Yes, like you say in your last sentence, it is the real life here.
A FAV!