Don't Panic

There are sudden moments where my mood can change from happy, or doing just fine, to the total opposite and I’m, very suddenly, not even close to “ok.”  Any little trigger and it just boils over.  I hadn’t been to church in three weeks because of the loss, because of work, etc.  It’s very rare for me to go that long without going to church.  I usually go every week.  For some reason this loss (much more than the others) has somehow left me more anti-social.  I’m fine talking to people online, I’m fine with people at work whom I’m just starting to get to know.  But I find myself wanting to avoid being around those I’m close to except for my husband.  I don’t exactly know why.  For some reason, this time my best healing has come through keeping myself busy and keeping to myself.  In the past I have clung to the company of close friends and family.  I’m much happier alone this time.  I worked full time this week, ran some errands, and celebrated my anniversary with my husband.  All of those things were great. 

As Sunday crept closer I started feeling this dread come over me.  I craved to go and worship and feel the Spirit.  I wanted to sing and be uplifted.  But at the same time the idea of going somewhere where everything is so positive and people are so faithful repulsed me, because it’s such a stark contrast from how I’m feeling half the time.  I didn’t want to hear about faith and trust because I already know I need to do better and for some reason it feels like that message drags me down unless I’m in the right mindset to receive it.  The other thing that worried me was seeing my friends.  I just felt like it would be awkward and I felt like I would have a breakdown at church, and that was the last thing I wanted.  I’ve been trying to deal with the sadness I’ve been feeling, but I’m still struggling with it.

In my mind’s eye, I saw this scenario where a friend who hadn’t seen me since the loss says a simple “Hi Amber! It’s good to see you, how are you doing?”  How do I answer that?  I either have to lie through my teeth with a smile and say “great!”  Or I have to say “You know, I’m hanging in there and I’m ok.”  I feel like that response would lead to either more questions, or instant sobs from me.  I don’t know why church is so much harder to go to than other places.  Maybe it’s because I normally can feel so happy there- or because my friends are genuine.  I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.

  I stayed in bed with a headache until 15 minutes before church started at 9.  I was debating up to the very last minute.  But I knew I at least needed to try to go.  You have to start somewhere.  You have to start getting back to normal.  I was extra tired because I’d worked the last three nights and knew I still had Sunday and Monday night shifts.  Getting home a little after midnight isn’t the bad part, I just haven’t been sleeping well.  I can’t ever turn my brain off after work and when I do finally fall asleep I have vivid dreams.  I wake up with headaches and feeling restless.  I’ve been struggling with heartburn too, which I don’t usually.  I wonder if that can be a result from stress or restlessness. 

But I did get out of bed 15 minutes before church, threw on a dress and boots and went.  We were a little late, so I sat out in the foyer, but when we normally would have gone to find seats during a break, I just continued to sit outside the main congregation.  It felt better to sit with just my family and hear the messages.  That way I didn’t have to see anyone or give anyone a smile.  My heart tried to be positive because there were wonderful messages of faith and happiness.  It was testimony meeting.  I just couldn’t break through the fog that felt like it was surrounding me.  Someone would talk about their new baby and that shut me down.  Someone would talk about having the faith not to be healed or have things turn out how you want and that shut me down.  I tried to focus on the Savior. I tried to tell myself that it was enough today for giving it the effort to go.  Baby steps. 

When the first meeting was over, I hurried to the classroom where I teach, to avoid seeing anyone in the halls that I would normally talk to.  I sat in the classroom and thought “This won’t be so bad.  Kevin is teaching with me, we only have to teach the kids and play with them for a couple hours, no big.  I looked at the clock and thought “The kid's other teachers or their parents will bring them in here soon.  A couple hellos are all you have to get through.”  

And suddenly, just like that, my chest felt tight.  Literally like it was seizing up.  I felt like the walls were closing in.  My emotions suddenly felt overflowing and I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight.  I told myself to calm down and tried to even out my breathing but it just sounded like hyperventilating.  The tight feeling in my chest added to the chaos of the moment, I was cold and shivering.  I looked at Kevin and said “I feel like I might be having a panic attack.” 

All I could think was “I have to get out of here before I see anyone.”  I felt like the kids would be there any second and then it would be too late.  I stumbled into the next empty room connected to our classroom, and tried to give myself a minute to calm down before I saw anyone, but the plan backfired.  I started trying to cover up the sobs coming from deep within my chest and water was pouring from my eyes.  Now there was no way I could hide it, you would be able to see it all over me that I was crying.  That I was a mess.  That just leads to more concern or questions.  I would be so embarrassed if someone saw how upset I was because I couldn't escape the situation.

I sat on the floor, giving myself one more chance to calm down.  I could hear was voices right outside the door.  Two women laughing.  One saying “Yes, my third is due anytime, my first came early etc etc.”  Nothing out of the ordinary.  Nothing wrong, nothing offensive.  But it’s just a trigger.  I knew I was done for.  It was a hard moment because a statement I said the night before was really starting to ring true.  I had admitted to Kevin about 1am, “I feel like I might need some help, but I’m not quite sure where to find it.”

 I knew I wouldn’t make it through the class at this point.  I looked desperately to my husband (as embarrassed as I was) and said “I have to get out of here.  I feel trapped.  I can’t even get to the car without people seeing me.”  Just admitting I felt trapped made my chest feel tight again.  I wanted to run.  I knew I had to hurry before the hallways filled up.  Even though I knew he wouldn’t really, I felt ashamed thinking my husband would hate me for this.  Why am I such a basket case?  Kevin acted quickly, and took me by the arm, and opened the door.  I was frantically wiping my face and digging in my purse to avoid any eye contact.  He checked the hallway and walked swiftly next to me until I came to a door leading outside.  He handed me the keys and I just ran.  

I talked myself through driving home, telling myself I needed to focus on driving and hold off on a meltdown until I was somewhere safe.  I have no idea why, but after I got home my right arm started to ache like someone had punched me in the shoulder a dozen times.  The aching started in the shoulder and went all the way through to my fingers.  I think this really may have been a physical response to what I was feeling.  I’m glad Kevin was there to cover for me, even though I was disgusted in myself for having a breakdown for no real reason.  I hope this is the last major event that I get through before I can start seeing some normalcy in myself again.  Perhaps it was just too soon.  But I tried.  I really tried.      

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When I say I don’t know where to get help, that’s not exactly true.  I have a loving family, great friends, and resources available to me.  My job offers free counseling that I can take advantage of at any time.  I have doctors and nurses I could see.  I think my problem is not knowing what kind of help I need.  Mostly I think I will just need some more time.  I’ve done counseling in the past for other things, and it helped, but maybe I’m just not ready to make the time commitment or the emotional commitment to try it again.  I have my blog as an outlet and a place for me to vent so I have that going for me.  I know that counselors can teach you coping mechanisms so if this continues I may look into that. 

I have doctors available to me.  I don’t want to start an anti-depressant.  I don’t think there’s anything wrong with them and I know they are a big help to those who need to take them.  I’m just not sure I really need one.  I’ve gotten through grief many times before without one, and I’m worried I would become numb or dependent on a drug.  The other issue is that sometimes people with MTHFR have trouble finding an antidepressant that works without the help of taking activated folate.  That folate that my body can’t process is responsible for nourishing neurotransmitters, etc.  Basically, I can feel depressed just from the lack of folate.  So maybe that's all I need, not an added drug.  I stopped taking my folate after I lost the baby because it’s very upsetting to take it still.  It’s associated with all that other stuff.  But I know I need to keep taking it for my own health. 

There is a new prescription out called Deplin.  It’s an active folate, studied for people specifically with MTHFR (so says one who works for the company).  It’s marketed as an antidepressant and is supposed to cross the blood brain barrier.  It’s also marketed to help prevent neural tube defects in pregnancy.  It’s been clinically studied, proven, all that jazz.  I’m trying to figure out if the dosing or compound is somehow far superior to over the counter active vitamins like I’ve been taking.  It’s over $400 for 90 pills of Deplin (the over the counter vitamins are like $20).  So I’m very curious what would set it apart.  I wonder if it would help me feel better, I wonder if it would work in my brain more or better.  I wouldn’t ever want to spend $400 on it, but if the insurance covered most of it, I wouldn’t be opposed to trying it, because it seems to be a clinical strength vitamin.  If is somehow worked better or stronger there is the potential there that it would help with any future pregnancy.  The trouble is I don’t know who to talk to about it.  I might email the fertility clinic and ask, because none of my regular doctors or OBs in the past really even know what MTHFR is, let alone that I’m missing an enzyme to process folate because of it, let alone a new drug that is supposed to help.  I usually pay for these doctor appointments just to be met with blank stares as I explain what it is.  They just don’t know about it. 

A nurse at work, also works for a company who studies these types of things, and really felt like this prescription is something I should look into if I can find a doctor who will work with me.  He was very professional about everything when he heard me talking to the pharmacist about active folate.  I explained my diagnosis and he was very interested.  I wondered if a strength like this would help my babies more.  I told him we’d lost our last five and wondered if this was a key part in it.  His response?  “That’s awesome, it’s like you don’t even have to use birth control.”  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  Of all the heartless things that have ever been said to me, that was the worst.  I wouldn’t even have told him, but it seemed to be a professional medical conversation up to that point.  I couldn’t believe he said that, in essence, “well even if you get pregnant, your baby likely won’t be born, so why worry about birth control, you won’t have another mouth to feed anyway.”  Regardless of that comment, I still want to look into Deplin.  If it would really help me stay happy more often, or feel less imbalanced.  In the meantime I know I should start on my vitamins again. 

              

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In the meantime I am still pondering on our loss.  Not just the loss of “a” baby, but the actual life that didn’t make it.  I think about all of them.  I imagine they all would have looked a little bit like Jack, but I try to push that thought out because it hurts too much. Along with the image of him being a big brother. He does ask me sometimes why there is no baby in my tummy. I wish I knew why.

I love looking at Jack. It's so incredible to see a little person who is literally half me, half my husband. A physical embodiment of our relationship and love, blessed by God. Do we ever stop to ponder on the fact that we have the ability to create a whole new human being and give life where there was none? A person, that will (God willing) outlive both his parents and still be there standing, a testament to their love and commitment to each other forever. All the love they felt for each other before couldn't imagine the love they would find for their child, that through God’s blessings, can be theirs forever.  I have had that blessing come to me, so even in my pain, I know I’m one of the lucky ones.  I saw this little reminder and bought it for myself- it makes me happy when I look at it:

Three is a hard age, but this little guy lights up my life.