Nick is halfway to his first birthday today! It's hard to believe he is six months old already, but at the same time, he has changed my life so much that it's surprising he has only been here six months. I feel as though both of us turned a corner this month; for Nick, it was catching up to his fellow February babies in height and weight, and testing out of physical therapy. For me, it was acknowledging the toll my pregnancy has taken on me emotionally, which led to me starting therapy.
I think about my pregnancy with Nick constantly. It's like my brain is on a loop and replays three particular scenes on repeat: the times I would wake up to discover I had started bleeding, the scary appointment with my MFM doctor the day before Nick was born that still gives me chills, and then the hours leading up to my c-section. I think about our doctors and nurses literally every day, but at first, I didn't really see this as a bad thing. A lot of good has come from my obsession with my pregnancy and the NICU: I have been able to write and publish four articles that have (hopefully) had a positive impact on other readers, I was selected to participate in a fellowship through the March of Dimes that gave me the opportunity to advocate on Capitol Hill, and, recently, I have started mentoring other new NICU moms through a program called Hand to Hold. I didn't see my constant thinking about my pregnancy as a problem (or even consciously realize I was doing it,) until replaying these memories began to give me anxiety.
As I mentioned briefly in an earlier Instagram post, I went to Hobby Lobby last week to pick up some supplies for a project I was working on. Hobby Lobby had all of their fall, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and even Christmas decorations displayed in the aisles already. Usually, I love when pumpkins and Christmas trees start appearing in stores, but seeing Christmas ornaments and ceramic Thanksgiving turkeys made my chest start to feel tight (and still does as I write this.) It was around this time of year last year that we learned we were expecting Nick, and it seemed every complication I had corresponded with a season: we announced our pregnancy on social media with a picture of pumpkins that said we were "adding another pumpkin to our patch." I had my first bleed the night Fall Break started for me when I was still teaching, and I was hospitalized the week before Thanksgiving and two weeks before Christmas, and Nick was born on Valentine's Day. I'm worried that these holidays will now always bring back bad memories of my pregnancy with Nick, especially Christmas: my mother-in-law sent me a tiny Christmas tree that stood on the bedside table next to my hospital bed in December, and I remember lying in the hospital listening to Christmas music to try and cheer myself up. I preferred to spend my time on bed rest in our living room so I could look at the lights on our Christmas tree, and I would keep myself busy by watching Christmas movies and shopping for presents on my laptop. Christmas is over four months away, but just writing this makes me feel so sad and makes my stomach hurt. Even something as simple as smelling the coffee I used to drink on my way to the NICU, or hearing a song that came out around the time Nick was born, makes me anxious. Halloween-Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year, so, since I don't want to be reliving and feeling the anxiety of the 2017 holiday season all this year, I decided to find a therapist. (I had an eating disorder all throughout high school and would occasionally relapse during college, so I understand how powerful and worthwhile it is to work with a therapist. I lost a lot because of my eating disorder, so I take my mental health seriously and don't hesitate to reach out if I feel it is needed.)
I have only met with my therapist once so far, and my first appointment was mostly giving him the rundown on what my pregnancy and the NICU was like (which made him remark that Nick is "quite the miracle.") It was honestly nice just to talk to someone other than my husband, and my therapist is (thankfully) very empathetic and a good listener. I felt kind of silly going to a therapist because Nick 1. Survived, and 2. Is doing so well now, so it was so nice to hear him acknowledge that my pregnancy was traumatic, and that it is not something anyone would be able to get over quickly. He explained that often when people are exposed to high levels of stress (like the high probability of losing a baby,) people's brains can "shut down," and one can go in to survival mode. I think that explains why I was never as scared as I should have been with Nick. I always thought it was because I had sub plans to work on and child care to coordinate, and I was too busy to really dwell on how bad my situation was. If I were to get pregnant again and have the same complications, I would be terrified, but I think my considerably laid back approach to bed rest and my hospitalizations was actually my brain in denial. My therapist said that after going through all of that, it is no wonder that I am having trouble "moving on," and it is important that I am able to stop myself from thinking the repetitive thoughts when they pop into my brain, and that I find productive ways to stay busy.
Since I saw him, I have been working hard to keep my mind busy, but it is hard to do so since I'm not working this year and I am literally with Nick 24/7, 7 days a week…and whenever I hold Nick I think about how lucky we are, which makes me think about how many moms like me don't have a baby to hold, which makes me feel guilty, which makes me think about the NICU, and then my c-section, and then the abruption, and then all the scary bleeds and ultrasounds that led up to the big bleed. So, I have started trying to read more to give myself something to think about, and I applied to a grad school program as well. I am proud of myself for taking steps to help myself heal, and I am excited to continue my appointments and truly recover from the past year.
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