Part 2- My Story of PPD

I thought coming home from the hospital would be what I needed. I needed out of the hospital where people were poking and pushing on my stomach and IF I was asleep, waking me up to take my temperature and blood pressure. I'd be at home, everything was going to be better at home, right? All I needed was my bed, my stuff, right? It would be better at home, right?

So as I was wheeled out of the hospital, we got alot of 'Oh twins' and 'Oh they are so beautiful, congrats'. I sat there smiling and said the "Yeah we are so lucky' 'thanks, we think they are beautiful too' But really I was thinking, "yeah you wouldn't think that if you had been in our room last night with 2 screaming babies last night.... all night'.

But I was going home. It would be better at home. It had to be better at home, Right?

I look back at the pictures of us getting home. Standing in front of the storks my mom ordered and taking pictures. I smiled and held them as we got pictures taken. But I was a fraud. I didn't want to hold them. I didn't want to be in those pictures. Those weren't really MY babies. I still felt nothing, I just wanted to run away. But I was too tired to run!

During the day, it was the same as in the hospital, people coming to see the babies. And still no sleep for me. Then everyone would leave and then hell would begin...

As Bobby and I settled into bed, one of them would start crying. In my head "damn it, what now?" I didn't have this desire to run and see what was wrong. I just wanted them to sleep and be quiet. Go to sleep! Damn! STOP crying! OMG! Then Bobby would change them and I would get settled in to nurse them and he'd lay back down and suddenly he would be snoring and they were suckling away and then I would sit there and cry. Tears streaming down my face. I didn't love them. I hated my husband. How can he sleep? If I had had something sharp by the bed, I probably would have done something to him. (That sounds crazy to even type, but I was SO angry) I wanted to sleep. I was tired of somebody constantly wanting something from me.

Then after an hour of nursing, they'd be done. I would lay them back in the bassinet and I'd lay down and I swear barely close my eyes and then BAM... one would be crying again. It was an hour later and hungry AGAIN! Fuck! Bobby would get up and change them and I settled in with the big huge nursing pillow and get them settled in and nursing and then the snoring starting and then my crying. Every hour was like this....

After my first night at home, Lyzz sent me a text: "Are you crying yet?" I read it and burst into tears, typed back "yes" and she called. Lyzz reassured me it was normal. Normal to cry for no reason? Really? Something couldn't be right about this. I called my sister who is a dr and she reassured me too that Yes it was normal and that it was the hormonal changes and the crying would stop and Yes she had cried too.

During the day, it wasn't as bad. Bobby's parents were there and somehow the girls slept more during the day. I could get a little nap. I would lay down to nap, but I could "hear" them. I could hear them making noises and crying. Yet they weren't making noises or crying. I was going crazy from the sleep deprivation.

One of those first few days, as I laid down to take a nap, Bobby was laying there with me and I was crying. He asked me why was I crying and what was wrong with me? I sheepishly said "I don't love them. I don' want to kiss them. I feel like a liar when I say I love them when people say how much I was in love, my boobs ached and felt all knotty like pearls under my skin and let's not even discuss my lady parts. My body is ruined" Bobby said to me that I was just tired and it was hard on me physically cause I had just had 2 babies and that I did love them, I just didn't know it. In my mind- noted. Don't tell Bobby anything else honestly. He started snoring and I laid there and cried...hearing them cry. I got up and came out in the living room. No one was here. Bobby's parents had taken the girls out in the backyard to sunbathe, with Kristin's jaundice we were suppose to expose her to sunlight. So I was literally hearing babies cry, that weren't there. Great I really am losing my shit. So what did I do? I cried some more.

As the days came and went like Groundhog Day, same day over and over. The girls were eating every 2 hours and taking an hour to eat. And I was lucky to get 45 mins of sleep at a time. Then it came time for Bobby to go back to work. Oh shit. Don't leave me alone with them. Not only was Bobby going back to work, but Lyzz had to go back too (Lyzz had taken her infant twins to the babysitter to come help me a couple of times). Now no one was home during the day to talk to me. GREAT.

The first morning when Bobby left to go to work. I cried. Shit, now what am I going to do? I could only have self pity so long. Cause of course one of the babies started. Damn it. I felt nothing when they cried except resentment. Their cries sounded like nails on the chalkboard to me. I just wanted it to stop. Stop damn it! Bobby's first day back to work, turned into 72 hours of him being gone. So I was alone with them for 3 days straight. No one to help me. No one here to help me keep what little bit of sanity that I had left, if I had any.

Then my friend Leanne called. Was Bobby home? No. Ok, good, I am bringing you dinner? have you eaten anything? No. Ok, I am coming.

Thank God. Had I eaten? When was the last time I ate? I don't know. Leanne has twins herself, she came in with food and demanded for me to shower and she "had it". Take a nap. Eat in peace. "I got it Courtney". I took a shower. I sat there with the water running over me and cried. I was losing my mind. I didn't have it together. God knew better, He had tried to tell me I wasn't going to be a good mom, so He was protecting the world from me having kids, and I messed with science. OMG what was wrong with me? I felt nothing for these babies that I had begged for, cried for, prayed for... after all I went through and I felt like this. What was wrong with me? I didn't want them. (Leanne actually came every night Bobby was at work, or she sent her mom who is best friends with my mom, I think now Leanne knew I was having a hard time, but she also knew about having infant twins)

Soon I noticed that Bobby was leaving earlier and earlier for work. He had to be there at 7:30 am. It takes 15-20 mins from our house to get there, but he would leave at 6 am, sometimes earlier like he was trying to be out of the house before they got up. I resented him. I wanted to get out of here too. I wanted to leave them so I could get some sleep. He napped at the fire station. He got full nights of sleep. And here I was, hadn't sleep in months. MONTHS. Even before they were born. And I hated his guts because of it. I was tired... and going crazy.

Then one night while Bobby was at work, it was 1 am and Kristin stopped wanting to nurse, she was screaming and not latching on. And throwing herself backwards. I was frustrated. She was frustrated. Both of us were crying. Just eat. Nope. She was screaming. Screaming. OMG shut up! OMG, stop! OMG I am going to lose it. She wouldn't stop to eat. Fuck, now Lara is crying. OMG. HELP! They were crying. I was crying. They were screaming. I started screaming "HELP ME. OMG, fucking help me" as loud as I could. I was screaming over and over. I stood in my bedroom and screamed. Something was wrong. This is not what a mother does.

I have to say. I NEVER wanted to hurt them. I never got to that point. But I would leave. I would put them down, and I would go outside. I would go out to our laundry room and I would scream at the top of my lungs. It is kind of amazing the police didn't come. Oh if they had, maybe they would take me away. Ah relief. I wanted to run away. In Brooke Shield's account she wanted to jump out of her apartment window. She said she wanted to kill herself. I never wanted to hurt myself. I just wanted to run away. I felt apathetic to the girls. I could careless. I wanted to run away. I felt nothing for them. I felt nothing but hatred and resentment towards my husband. I was SO tired and sad and this wasn't the way I envisioned motherhood. This SUCKED!

A few times, in the hazy fog of Groundhog days, I sat there staring, and I could hear the girls crying. I remember thinking, I wish someone would make that baby shut-up. I didn't get up, cause whatever was crying wasn't my business. I felt total apathy. I felt nothing. I was lifeless. Then it would hit me, oh shit those are my babies. But I didn't want to deal with it. I wanted to get the hell out of dodge.

One morning at 6 am after he left. I sat there, pumping and feeding them in their boppies, watching the news. Overnight some lady had dropped off her baby at the hospital. The news reporter stated, you can take a newborn baby to any hospital, fire station, police station, no questions asked. YES! I could take them back. I perked up like I was in a cartoon. I could drop them off, and leave, and I would have 24 hours head start. No one would know I was gone. I could leave a note, so they knew I hadn't been killed or kidnapped, but had left on my own, by myself. I could be free. There was hope. Then I realized, Bobby would be mad at me. The girls would grow up and hate me. I was a horrible mother.

That was the low point. I thought I could leave my children and leave my husband and be ok. I am a horrible person... a horrible mother... a loser... worthless... a pathetic mess.

To be continued again....


Had I left, I would have missed this. And I refuse to miss a thing.

Down Came the Rain

I have decided I need to get some things off my chest, something I feel compelled to write in light of many things that have happened to me or friends and because I feel like it isn't talked at all. Something that is spoken about quickly and just as quickly dismissed. Somethings in case you are looking for someone that feels the same as you do or did. And so you know, you are NOT alone!

My friend Lyzz gave me a book, well an audio book (we have twins, we don't have time to read a book, let alone go to the bathroom alone) called Down Came the Rain by Brooke Shields. It is Shield's account of her postpartum depression after treatments to become pregnant. As I listened, I thought about me and my girls, and my struggle after they were born and my guilt and all that came with the birth of my girls. I thought alot....

I have said a few things, but I have only been slightly truthful and forthcoming with information. I have only been 100% openly honest with Lyzz. She has twins, she had PPD too, we have some sort of kindred spiritual connection. I have said a few things to others, but I felt like they judged me and although they meant well, I didn't think anyone could completely understand.

So if you read this part of my story and feel the need to be rude or leave a nasty comment, please keep it to yourself and don't feel the need to return to my blog. Thanks bye!

After deciding to have a baby, I thought, life will be great. I would be this excellent mother that I had heard that I would be from my mom and friends and others. My mom has said over and over that I should "have a dozen". I on the other hand, envisioned a sweet little baby, nestled all snug in my arms, swaddled and staring at me sweetly and babbling. I never once envisioned that baby would cry and scream and turn red. I imagined myself standing over the crib and looking down and drinking in the smell and sight of my little baby... this little baby that Bobby and I lovingly created.

Then it all faded... it started with miscarriage number 1. My innocence was taken. Some part of my naivety died that horrid day in October 3 years ago. I wondered why me? Why us? Crackheads have babies all the time, people neglected and abuse their kids and they have 6. Why us? I was mad, angry, sad and devastated. Then I pulled up my boot straps and I was going to get pregnant. After having the D&C, the dr told us we could try again. So we did. Then...

Miscarriage #2 less than 8 weeks from the first one. After waiting for 2 weeks, I had to have another D&C. Then dr told us we had "bad luck". Again, I was angry and hurt and grieving the loss of 2 babies I would never hold, see, or feel that soft baby cheek against mine.

Then after a few more cycles of trying, I got diagnosed with PCOS. That explained some. But with the diagnosis, came a wave of sadness. After the initial shock, I was going to get pregnant, damn it. I did everything the dr told me to do. I went on a diet and I was exercising and if I did that, I could have some Clomid. Ok. Done. After going through that, month after month, I started to get down. The anniversary of what should have been the due date of my first m/c came and went. Still not pregnant. Then the due date came of the 2nd m/c. Still not pregnant. Then I started feeling sadder and sadder. But I WAS going to get pregnant.

After going to the Jones Inst., and having some more treatments and surgery and feeling worse and worse about myself. Every month getting my hopes up for over 2 years now only to have myself knocked down back into reality with a pregnancy test that only had 1 line on it.

Then one beautiful cold Sunday morning, I peed. And since I had become so use to seeing 1 line of the pregnancy test, I walked off and started cleaning the house. I knew I wasn't pregnant, so why bother. I don't even know how much later, I came back to the bathroom and there lying on the counter was a faint second blue line on the pregnancy test. And my world went crazy. I realized, I wasn't sure if that was really a line. I mean was it really, or was I seeing it. Then OMG I don't have to pee. But I had to. I mean was this real? So I got a paper cup and squeezed out as much pee as I could so I could dip the 1 digital pregnancy test I have been saving for months to pee on once I knew I was pregnant. But this was an emergency... was it a second blue line or not? After that 2 minutes of the little sand timer spinning on the CBE digital... "pregnant".

I cried and prayed and cried and sang Christmas carols as I drove to the fire station to tell Bobby. Getting pulled over for speeding on the way (luckily I whipped out my freshly peed on HPT and showed it to the cop, who let me off with a talking to). I was happy, scared, ecstatic, scared....

Then after a few scary weeks of HCG levels not doubling and spotting and all. 7 weeks and 3 days pregnant, TWINS! Yes we won the baby lotto! Not only was I pregnant, but now it was twins, we would never have to go through all of this again. Life was going to be good!

I had a seemingly unexciting pregnancy, minus the carpal tunnel and possible 1 placenta that the u/s tech decided to scare me with. So all should be good, my wish was coming true.

Then August 8, 2009, I walked into the hospital to be induced at 37 weeks 5 days. After a pretty boring labor, I had my girls. I should have known something was wrong with me from the moment Kristin was born. Dr M put her on my stomach and I cringed. OMG she was bloody and had some nasty stuff on her and they told me to touch her. Ughhhh... I just wanted her off of me. Then when Lara was born, Dr M put her up on my belly too. OMG stop! After I was grossed out the first time, you would have thought he wouldn't have done it again. But I was just as grossed out on round 2! Please wash these babies up.

So here I was... mommy to twins. I felt like I was having an outer body experience. I didn't feel like myself. I just wanted to be alone. I just remember the nurse and Bobby smiling from ear to ear with my mom and his parents in tow rolling in the bassinets with the girls into my PP room. And right then and there I could have run. I was scared shitless. Didn't they know I wasn't old enough or something to have a baby, let alone two? Something was wrong here. But they handed them to me, feed them. WHAT? Oh yeah. I am going to breastfeed. And I sat there feeling weird and looking at this babies. And wondering why they were so foreign to me.

I didn't see this:



And I felt like this:



I wasn't myself. I felt like a fraud. I didn't know what I was doing. I wondered what the hell Bobby and I were thinking, why did we decide to have a baby? Why is he so in love with them? What's wrong with me? I was upset. I felt nothing. Nothing. I didn't have this overwhelming love that everyone said I would have. I didn't have a desire to sit there and stare at them. In fact, I was actually a little pissed at Bobby for not letting me send them to the nursery so we could get some rest. Instead, I sat there, listening to him snore and these creatures that made all kinds of noises and I felt... weird. They were alien to me. I didn't know them. I was fascinated that they came out of my body, that they had grown in there, but I had no attachment to them. Nothing.

I sat there and cried. This wasn't the motherhood I had planned for. This wasn't what I envisioned. Nothing like I imagined.

The hospital stay was a whirlwind. People coming and going. 2 babies constantly crying at night. Daytime, people were visiting and kissing all over these babies. And then there was me, sitting there in my bed, having this outer body experience. This wasn't real. And no one seemed to notice. Thank God, no one was paying attention to me.

36 hours after they were born, I was in tears yelling at Bobby in the middle of the night. Saying wtf had we done? Why couldn't we get them quiet? What else could we do? Bobby went and got the nurse, she said she could take them to the nursery but bring them back when they needed to be fed and Bobby was all "hell no or I will have to go be with them, we can't let them be down there". I wanted them to go, but with tears, I agreed to let them stay. I resented him. I resented them. I was tired. I needed sleep. I felt nothing... for anyone.

Then Lyzz came. She said to me "if you don't feel an overwhelming love right now, it's ok". But I couldn't say anything, she would think I was weird, besides, it is cause I am so tired, right? I told her about Bobby going home to take a nap... you know cause he was tired and all. And she knew something was going wrong, I was angry at him. Little did she know.

Dr M came to see me and do his check before I could leave. And I wanted to leave. Just no one knew I wanted to go alone. I just wanted to be alone. But then I felt so guilty for feeling like I needed to escape. Guilt. Sadness. No overwhelming love. And a flabby ruined body.

We came home and then it began....

That's all I can do tonight. This is hard. This is hard for me to admit. Makes me feel guilty. I am reliving this nightmare, this nightmare that I want to close the door on and not relive, let alone talk about or admit to.

So I will leave you with my sweet girls:




To be continued....

Peas and Carrots

So before I get into my stuff... Here's some pictures of my little peas and carrots!




Can't remember what Kristin was eating... but she wanted everyone to see I guess.




Serious Kristin




Up close and personal Lara



So what's going on here... well, alot. These past few weeks have just been hell for me. I have just been busy, still hate going to work, and I had 2 friends lose a baby. My friend/ sitter Andrea went in for her OB appt at 10 wks and had a sac but no baby. Heartbreaking. That just sucks. Then another fellow IFer, Hokie alumni, blogger, Lindsay had a devastating accident and lost one of her twins, Lucas. It has really bothered me and I have never even met her... I found out about both of these losses on the 3rd anniversary of my 1st miscarriage. It certainly made this year's harder for me. Please keep them both in your thoughts and prayers. Thanks.

Well, as I promised Amy this is the current discussion going on in my home.

Baby #3.... to TTC or Not to TTC... that is the question....

Here's where we stand:

Bobby is a firm NO! Courtney is a "well, *ahem cough* maybe"...

How did I get here? I don't even know. If you had asked me a year ago, you would have gotten a VERY firm NO.. bordering on a possible Hell No, and if it was a bad day, a Hell Effing No! So I still don't know how we got to this conversation, but something has happened. No, I have NOT forgotten the Carpal Tunnel while pregnant or the Acid reflux or the Carpal Tunnel or the nausea or gaining a ton of weight or the Carpal Tunnel or the peeing or Carpal Tunnel or the vomiting and did I mention the Carpal Tunnel? Yes I remember all of that... even the carpal tunnel, which is enough to make me think that I am crazy and should check myself in to the closest hospital for a mental evaluation. But somehow it seems worth it.. yes I think it is possible I am crazy.

I also have not forgotten the colic baby or the newborn twin hell or the hours of crying (Kristin and me) or my Postpartum Depression (which I am now realizing I should have admitted a year ago that I had and another post sometime later) or my thoughts that I was losing my mind and how did this happen to me and the crying of my colic baby and me hearing voices/babies crying constantly, and the sleep deprivation... Nope, I have not forgotten any of it, but somehow now... it just doesn't seem as bad. I mean, now I know that I will survive and that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Oh I remember being in the throes of having a colic baby, twin newborns, no husband support hell and SLEEP DEPRIVATION for basically a year... I remember WELL! But yet, I am willing to do it again. I guess this is why the human race did not end thousands of years ago, cause somehow, we as women forget the horrid details of pregnancy and childbirth and are willing to do it again.

And yes, I remember giving birth and (this is hard to admit) pooping in front of at least 30 people (ok, maybe realistically it was only 8, but when you are up in the stirrups pushing and you are pooping in someones face,I don't care if most- if not all women do it, I shit in some man's face, it is somehow the most disgusting thing ever and I will never forget that) while pushing and then feeling my hoo-ha after having them when I was in the shower and cleaning myself and thinking "Ummm... I don't think this is the way it was before". Nope, it wasn't. But somehow, that doesn't matter either. Cause it is worth it in the end.

Looking at my flabby, saggy, stretched marked to hell, wrinkly, loose skin, ripped abdominal muscles belly.... somehow it was worth it.

Bobby and I have discussed this at length... along with the money thing. Of course another baby means money and being in the careers we are in, neither of us will be millionaires or make huge money, so that means, well you know what it means. Bobby has been very adamant that he does not want another baby and that he doesn't want to even "try" for a boy, but will do it if it "makes me happy". I was a little shocked, he is such a guy's guy. I would have thought he'd want a little boy to do "guy stuff" with. He said 'everything I do is to make you happy, so if you want another baby, I will try'. He also thinks it is because my friends are having babies like Kate and some others.

He also said he would rather try now and not wait. I want to wait, besides I waited an extra year for him to even try the first time so I think waiting another 8 months is no big deal in the grand scheme of things. I have a "plan" for when I want to ttc again. Yeah yeah, I know we are "infertile" so I know I should take that into consideration, but whatever, I have a plan anyway. Wanna hear it:

I want to wait til school lets out, try for about 6 months, NO treatments (which means only 1 baby, right?), just Metformin and Progesterone (I need both I think) and if nothing, then it just wasn't meant to be. Sell the baby stuff and all the maternity stuff and know that we tried and it just wasn't in the cards for us. Done deal.

Just hoping that I can stick to my plan. However, I still have to get Bobby on board, he's the carrots to my peas. Plus, I still waiver some, sometimes I think I am crazy (ok I know I am crazy) and I will be severely outnumbered when Bobby is gone to work. Plus things are made for families of 4, like Disney vacations. Maybe I should just be happy with my 2 girls and call it done. But......

My Pumpkins

We went to a Fall Festival and our little pumpkins picked out the pumpkins for our house:







Kristin was more interested in the straw than the pumpkins




Lara enjoyed playing on, with, around, whatever with the pumpkins

I got my wish....

2 years ago, I blew out my birthday candles and I wished for a healthy baby. I guess I must have wished and prayed for it alot cause I got 2 beautiful babies instead...




Yesterday, I went to blow out my candles and realized I had received my wish. So I wished for... can't tell or it won't come true.





Go Hokies Go! Kristin even claps as I cheer... I will get a cheerleader in this pair if it is the last thing I do!



Lara loves to ride the push car and push herself backwards right into the entertainment center!



If you didn't get my Mommy a birthday present, I will attack you with my spaghetti covered hands!

**I guess I should have wrote this last year. But last year I was in the throes of Colic hell and newborn twins with no real hubby support since he was busy building the girls their playroom which is still being built. Exhibit A- first picture of the girls, you can see Bobby standing on the ladder STILL building the playroom!! Today getting shingles on the roof, so we are moving in the right direction! After a major leak occurred with the 20 inches of rain we got last week! AGGGGGHHHH more money... more time. Whatevahs!