Miss M. was born in October. I had never felt so confident doing something in my life. I was tired, and weary of the unknown, but it seemed as though the moment she was born, I knew how to take care of a newborn (at least know how to love a newborn). The next four months were challenging as I am sure it is for every woman, but I was so happy and confident about my life. I was doing what I always wanted to do and my heart was bursting with love and joy over my daughter.
Then one day it hit. Hard. I nursed Miss M. and one day I woke up and I felt very empty and they stayed empty for days. My sweet baby was so hungry and for some reason, my body decided not to produce milk for a few days. I soon found out it was because my menstrual cycle had begun again. During this week, I felt the same rush of emotions I always had that accompanied this "special" time. It scared me because for the first time I felt like I was an inadequate mother and that I was not capable of fulfilling my most important role in life. This was the beginning of something huge, even though it was a very small moment in time.
Over the next eight months, we moved from Provo to California and back to Provo again (all within four months). Every month I experienced that overwhelming stress of my milk disappearing and my emotions going against me. I was stressed about taking care of Miss M. by myself as Alex's work schedule had him away from home from 8 a.m. to 10:30 p.m. most days. I was in a new place without a car most days which was trickier than I thought it would be. While we were in California, I started to have panic attacks. My chest would tighten, my lips would tingle as if they were asleep (like when your foot falls asleep), I would hyperventilate, and scariest of all were the negative thoughts that overwhelmed my focus. This happened about once a month before my period started. I also started to feel depressed more regularly and I my daily self care habits started going out the window such as proper diet, enough sleep, I watched tons of tv, etc.
I thought this would go away once we moved back to Utah because I would be in a familiar place with familiar people. It seemed to get better as we settled in. When Mara was about 11 months old, I decided to stop nursing because I simply was not producing enough milk for her needs, and she was eating enough solids to where it was an easy transition for her to drink whole milk. When I stopped nursing, I had no idea how intense of a hormone flux it would bring. The day after I stopped, I had three panic attacks in one day. I was terrified! I remember laying on the floor that day (Alex was at school) feeling so numb and so weak that I couldn't move at all. Miss M. was up in her crib so she couldn't see me, but she was alone most of that day. It only got worse from there.
In September 2015 we decided to start trying to have another baby (Miss M. was 11 months old). I am not joking. We took the birth control away and I was pregnant a week later. I was so excited when a doctor confirmed it, I told a stranger in the elevator before I even called Alex! However, we were not expecting this. We thought it would take a couple months at least to get pregnant. We were both stressed about the financial burden we all the sudden had; we knew how much a baby costs from the get go and we knew we simply did not have the money quiet yet. Sure enough, the panic attacks and depression got stronger.
In November, we had a huge financial blow. We were not getting a substantial paycheck we thought Alex earned over the summer doing sales. The company did not short change us, but we had apparently already spent the money. I had a panic attack on Sunday November 15 in our car outside my inlaw's house after a stressful evening (for me anyway). Monday night (November 16) I started cramping and bleeding and passing clots. I tried to rationalize these signs as abnormal pregnancy symptoms (every pregnancy is different, right?) but I still went to the doctor the next day. They did an ultra sound and it seemed as though things were okay, but the doctor was skeptical and I went in for ultra sounds and blood work every other day to track hormone levels and to ensure it was not an ectopic pregnancy.
Around Thanksgiving the thought that I had actually miscarried overwhelmed my heart. My family could tell something was off so I told them what had been happening. December 1 I had one last ultra sound. The doctor came in and gently told me that I had indeed miscarried. It was the hardest moment in my life at that point. Alex was at work and couldn't be there. I was alone at the office with Miss M. I didn't want her to see me be sad or cry so I listened to the doctor explain how I needed to take care of myself with as much strength as I could muster. As soon as I was in the car and Miss M. couldn't see me, I broke down. I had lost a child. I had a panic attack.
That Christmas season was awful. I no longer had a child in my womb and so many of my close friends were announcing their babies to be born within weeks of my sweet baby. I had panic attacks almost every day. I was so depressed. I had no purpose in my life. I felt as if my family would be better without me. Not that I wanted to die, but run away and let someone else who was better qualified to take my place. I didn't sleep much. I was numb to everything except negative thoughts a feelings. I don't even remember how I took care of Miss M during that time. I didn't look in the mirror much. I didn't eat much. I prayed for help and asked for many priesthood blessings, but I just couldn't find joy in a single thing.
January came and as I was praying during a panic attack I asked God what I should do because I was a worthless nobody that couldn't bear children anymore and I was not the mother or wife my family needed me to be. Within one single clear short moment (the first in months), the thought came to go to therapy. I told Alex and we got a an appointment set up. My first appointment was the scariest thing I had ever done ever. I decided to be completely honest and tell my therapist everything and answered every question honestly. She quickly told me that I had had post partum depression after my first, but it had evolved into major depression and a general anxiety disorder. I felt so broken.
Confident happy Sarah was gone and mentally ill Sarah had taken over. I decided to trust my therapist when she said she was going to do therapy faster and more intense than normal. The first couple of sessions I left happy and relieved, but I was still having panic attacks over simple things. Then she found my tender spots. My therapist broke my heart completely in two. I thought I was pretty broken, but she finished ripping me apart. I felt I could not trust her. Why would she say the things she said when she knew how fragile I was? Alex convinced me to go back the next week. I went in a told her off (class Sarah starting to come back!) and she explained that she did that on purpose so that I could truly start to heal. She was right! I prayed a lot during this time and studied the atonement of Jesus Christ more thoroughly. I learned that I needed to break all the way so I could truly come to Christ with a broken heart and contrite spirit.
Things started to change. I went to the gym a couple times per week. I took an extra B vitamin supplement and a magnesium supplement. I wanted to try these things first before turning to a prescription to "fix" me. I was more dedicated to my gospel study. I took care of my body. I prayed for strength every single time I felt a tiny bit of stress because I knew the Savior could help me through it. Over a couple of months, my panic attacks became shorter in duration, less in intensity, and far in between. My depression blew away and happy Sarah started to come back. There was a very noticeable difference in me that other people pointed out.
Alex mentioned one day that he was ready to start trying to have another baby soon. I was terrified of the thought! Even though I was getting back to normal, I couldn't help but fear losing another chid and fear the hormone flux that started all my pain. The Provo City Center Temple open house was going on around this time. I took Mara with me one morning to see and while I was there holding Mara closely, I felt so much peace. I felt so close to my eternal family and knew that I could indeed be a mother of two and that my mind and body was ready for the change.
Through this experience, I learned how much I need to rely on the Savior. I really am nothing compared to the grand scheme of things. I have to take care of my body and for me, that means regular exercise. I am not the best mother, wife, daughter, friend, neighbor out there. Hard is not bad, it's just hard. I am not perfect, and that is okay. Christ is. I am worth it to him. I am good enough for him. I am good enough for Heavenly Father. He trusts me to be a mother! He takes care of me every single moment of every single day. I am not healed all the way from the anxiety and depression. I still have days when I feel overwhelmed and the stress seems to take over my body. I still once in a while have panic attacks. BUT, I know how to get through them. I accept that I have a few mental disorders. But that doesn't mean that I am incapable, less deserving, or unwanted. It just means that I have the opportunity to lean on the Savior a little more and trust in God a little deeper. I have no doubt in the ministering of angels. I have no doubt in the Savior's and Heavenly Father's love and attention for me. I am learning to love myself. I am finding joy in womanhood and motherhood again. I am so excited to be a mother again! I love Miss M. so dearly. I love my and appreciate my husband more deeply. All this because my heart broke completely and the Savior loving is fixing it for me and with me, every day.
