Why Me?

That is the question I had been asking myself for several months.

Why do I have another baby with reflux?

Why is MY baby not sleeping?

Why can't I have an uncomplicated pregnancy?

Why do I have a child with "special needs"?

Those above are only a few of the questions I was asking. Why me????



I was having a HUGE pity party for one since the day Emma was born. Having two kids so close in age is hard. Then you add in the reflux, the screaming at all hours, no sleep, and then all the concerns with Macie....I found out real quick that I do have a breaking point. I was crying every single day. I was angry at Emma for crying, but yet I was aware that something was bothering her and her only way of expressing that is obviously by crying. I was falling apart more and more everyday, and I wouldn't accept help. I chose this situation, I am a 36 year old woman....I shouldn't have had children if I can't handle it, right? These are the kinds of things that occupied my mind. I was so anxious about everything- laundry, cleaning, baths for the girls, showers, feeding both of them, etc.

I don't remember the exact moment that I started obsessing over Macie and her development. I do remember that I was playing with her one day and realized that she just wasn't using words that she used to. Once in a great while she would say something, but I really had to push for it and keep repeating a word for her to say it. From that day things rapidly went downhill. I started noticing more things with her. I thought the rocking she does was her dancing to music, the arm/hand flapping was just her getting excited. The circles she ran around the house was just her running off some boredom. I was starting to realize that maybe all these things were a sign of Autism. I sat in front of the computer for hours researching everything I could about Autism, Sensory Integration Disorder, rocking, arm/hand flapping, walking on tip toes, etc. I couldn't stop myself. Macie's behavior consumed my days and nights. I was sick, not sleeping, constantly analyzing every single thing she was doing, and then reporting it to anyone who would listen. It was stressing everyone out, not just me!

Something finally changed and I thought maybe I should call my Dr. I was constantly puffy from crying, and the anxiety was out of control. I had a panic attack over a couple water bottles sitting on our nightstands (I know....weird). I called my Dr.'s office and asked to speak with a nurse. The receptionist said "what is the problem" and I said "I think I might be experiencing postpartum depression". She put me on the phone with the nurse immediately. I have a really good relationship with my Dr. and his nurses. I have been going there forever and I feel very comfortable there. The nurse picked up the phone and said "Michelle honey, what's going on", and I lost it. I could barely talk to her. She asked where I was, asked me if I could drive there or if I needed a ride. I got it together and drove to their office. They rushed me back to his office right away. I told him everything that was going on with my life, and I just cried and cried. He listened, and said that he was shocked to see me there since I was always "so together", but I am suffering from Postpartum Depression and I need to be medicated. I was partly relieved, partly confused, partly ashamed. Relieved that it was "normal" and could be helped. Confused because I wasn't going to hurt myself, or Emma....I love her too much to do that. Ashamed because I needed to be medicated to deal with life. I always wanted to be a mom, and I LOVE being a mom, but at that point I felt like I wasn't cut out to be anyones mommy. I had to come to terms with the fact that I was not being a good Mommy if I wasn't dealing with my feelings.
It's hard to see that when you are in a rather dark place, but I wasn't willing to let my family and friends suffer anymore. My girls need me, and I wasn't there for them emotionally.
So, my Dr. hugged me, told me I was going to be okay, and gave me two weeks worth of meds to try out. I took a pill in the car, I was desperate to feel better and get a fresh start on life with my children, my wonderful husband and my amazing family. Within two days I was feeling different, but not a good different. I was not sleeping, having night sweats, weird electrical shock feelings radiating up my neck and into my head and my anxiety was worse than ever. I took myself off the meds and called the Dr. Went back in and he gave me Zoloft.
After a few days I was feeling so much better. I hadn't cried in 3 days and that is a HUGE accomplishment! I feel I am a better Mommy now, and I think that has significantly helped both Macie, and Emma. I am now completely focused on both of them, not just on Macie's issues. I realize now that I was so focused on the things that Macie wasn't doing, that I stopped focusing on the things that she is doing and does very well. I wasn't helping her build on the skills she has, and I certainly wasn't helping her much in learning new skills. I'm not sure where we would be right now had I not gotten some help. I got on top of appointments with all the therapists, I was focused on getting Macie help, and I didn't break down through the whole process. Macie has so many more "good days" now than she did before and I know that is 100% my doing. This poor little girl relies on her Mommy to set the tone for the day, and she relies on me for comfort when she's struggling with her feelings. I was the one needing the comfort. I would cry at every sign of delay in Macie and she would just look at me with this blank stare. I felt awful, but couldn't control it at the time. Now I am able to help her instead of walking out of the room to cry because I was trying to to expose her to that.
I still feel that my feelings were justified 100%. I was so upset that my little girl might struggle her whole life, what is her future going to be like, will she have trouble making and maintaing relationships, will she struggle in school? Those are just a few of the many things that are going on in my head. I am her Mommy, I am supposed to protect her and make sure that she doesn't struggle. Where did things go wrong? What did I do to cause this? Do I have the capacity to deal with this? And back to the "Why me?". I often wonder if her childhood is going to be taken away with numerous therapy sessions. I worry that she's sad, and confused about her feelings and not being able to tell us what she wants, or how she's feeling. I will say that she is still my little girl, and I am going to do everything in my power to make sure she thrives, and that she is happy. It may sound weird, but after all this I love her more. I didn't think that was possible, but it is. She is full of hugs and kisses, and energy that I only dream about having so I can keep up with her!!!
Now after all the evaluations, it all makes more sense. I feel a sense of hope. Hope that we caught this early enough to make a HUGE impact on her development. We have gotten a lot of praise from everyone involved that we did notice signs and acted on them so quickly. There were moments I wanted to ignore the signs and just move on. I had high hopes that she was just being a "toddler", and "testing her limits". I thought she was developing at her own pace. I just couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in my gut that something was just not right. I get that feeling back just sitting here typing this. I get a little sick to my stomach, a little sweaty, numb and scared. My medicated, rational self knew I had to act and quickly. I knew that if I waited any longer, I might talk myself out of it and in turn, would never forgive myself if I didn't take advantage of this opportunity. (**I have to thank Kim for getting me phone numbers to get in touch with the right people, I wouldn't have had a clue where to start. Thank you to Gayle too for also helping me get in touch with the right people. **)
You're probably asking yourself why I am blogging about this, it's so personal. I feel there are many reasons to share it. It's part of me, my family and my life. It has affected my family, friends, and my life. It's a way of letting you know why I may have been acting strangely, distant, over protective, just not myself. It's a Thank You to everyone who has helped me along the way. Whether you listened, gave advice, talked me off the ledge, watched the kids for a sanity break, or just thought about us. It's an apology if I hurt anyones feelings, or seemed like I didn't want to be involved in your life, or have you involved with my kids. It's a step in my healing, and my road to be the best Mommy I can be. My kids deserve the best, if I am not honest with myself, and those that mean the most to me, how can I expect any more out of my children?
Thank you to my most amazing husband. Phil, I am so lucky to have you. I don't know how I would have gotten to this point without you. You are my rock, my best friend. You have been so patient, understanding, and supportive. I love you with all my heart. I am sorry if this has been difficult for you. Poor thing has had to deal with me being pregnant for basically two years straight and now all this!!!
To our friends and family- Please bear with us through this very difficult journey. We need and appreciate all of your support and encouragement. We are all so lucky to have such a wonderful support system! We love you!