How Charlotte saved my life

Note: There will be much in this post that none of you know, including the people that I lived with at the time. Please know that what you read here has not been written to make anyone feel bad, or to put any sort of blame on anyone. It is the true and accurate account of how my life was saved. 

Moving to Florida with a one and two year old while pregnant with another baby is by far the most difficult thing I have ever done. There were several sources of stress: we had not sold our home in Ohio yet, the kids and I left almost a week before Cory did, everything we owned went into storage, we moved in with family, Cory's new job was over an hour away from my parents', and so much more. My parents housed us when we relocated, they did so out of love and because they wanted to fill that need. But, it was difficult. Their house was not baby-proofed, they have a metal spiral staircase in the middle of their living room, their television was within reach of Jacob and Maddie. The Withlacoochee river is at the end of their not fenced backyard. My dad was working from home... making phone calls, supervising the therapists that report to him, Skype calls, and trying to do his own client notes. I constantly felt as if I had to keep the kids silent from the moment we got downstairs until my dad had left to go see a client, or until my mom got home from work in the evenings. It was the middle of August, and all of the kids' outside toys were in storage, so even going outside to play did not last long. I felt like such an awful person, and like a failure as a mom. It seemed like I was always chasing my kids away from the television, plugged in power cords, the staircase, my dad's office, the cabinets with glass dishes and storage containers and cleaning products, the trash can, their dogs' food and water bowls. And I screamed, a lot. It felt like I was screaming all the time at them. Every day I told Cory I could not get through another day, I would not make it. Every day I reminded him how he got to go to work, meet people, socialize, and learn new things while all of my friends were over a thousand miles away and the only thing I was learning was that I did not have what it takes to be a good mom. I was exhausted, depressed, angry, bitter, and eventually very resentful. I know that this does not paint a pretty picture, but... it was not one at the time.

I sank deeper and deeper into my depression, and was constantly on edge even when I did not take my anxiety into account. By the end of the month I had holed myself up behind steel walls, I did not talk unless I had to. This was probably the only time in my life that I had managed to not relay my thoughts and emotions through my eyes. In September we moved into a rental, we could barely afford it. Cory's dad took over paying our mortgage on the Ohio house because we could not pay it and rent. The kids, or I, took turns being sick. Our stuff came out of storage, but most of it went into the screened in lanai because the house was small and could not accommodate it. Cory would take the kids outside when he got home, and they loved that. I sat inside because it was so hot, and I was still miserable, exhausted, depressed, resentful... and I began to plan my suicide. I knew that initially Cory would struggle, and the kids would not understand... I believed it was best to do it after delivery because they were so young that they would not remember me, so it would affect them less than if I waited until they were older.

I considered many options for leaving this world, and began to narrow down what I thought I could tolerate. The one thing that I knew for sure was I would wait until after the baby came, because regardless of how crappy a person and mom I was - I knew that she deserved to live. I could kill myself, but I was not going to choose to take her with me. I planned to leave, after one of my last OB appointments and just drive as south as I could get. I was going to have the baby, and ask the hospital to call Cory once I had been discharged to tell him to come get her. And then I was going to slit my wrists and that would be it. And then, at my next OB appointment my doctor offered to induce at 39 weeks because she knew I had two young kids at home and that I had not had issues with delivering either of them. I was so relieved, because her offer meant that I only had five more days left before I could stop my pain and misery. I called Cory and my parents on the way back home to tell them about the scheduled induction. Things would have to jostle a bit, I would need to walk away from the hospital while I was alone with the baby... but I felt prepared. We had flown Katie and Zane down to be with Jacob and Maddie while we went to have the baby, and there was no immediate plan for when they would fly back home... so I knew that Cory would have a bit of help adjusting to another kid on his own.

Labor progressed slowly at first, but my parents and Cory were there. I remember being thankful that my dad was going to see Charlotte be born, my mom had been there for Jacob's birth but my dad had not been able to come. It felt right to me, I felt relatively at peace. I was surrounded by the people who loved me at my best and at my worst, and I knew they would be fine together when I was gone. I knew that my kids, and Cory, would be well loved and taken care of. And I knew that nobody would have to deal with me bringing them down anymore. I rested when I could during labor, but delivery came faster than we expected. Someone called the nurse in to check because I felt like something was wrong, and she paged the OB right away and got some other nurses in there. They were lifting me and moving quickly, trying to keep Charlotte in until the OB arrived. A doctor I had never met before walked by, peeked in because of the commotion and gloved up faster than I had seen anyone glove up before. Charlotte's head was out already, and thankfully this doctor came by just in time to help with the delivery. I had not pushed, at all, that little stinker had delivered herself! My OB made it into the room in time to deliver the placenta.

Jacob did not nurse, I had such difficulty trying to get him to latch. Maddie latched well, but because of her PKU we stopped nursing almost right after getting home from the hospital. Charlotte latched. She was a pro at nursing. The first time she latched her tiny fingers had somehow curled around mine... and I knew that I would not take this away from her. If she was going to need me to eat, I could wait a little longer to end my life... after all I had already waited several months because of her. Around the end of June, Charlotte stopped nursing well. In fact, she really became uninterested, and eventually she refused to nurse at all. By the time that happened, I had already entered therapy. Cory and I were doing marital counseling, too. I had started an anti-depressant and was beginning to feel a little better... and the plan I had made to end my life was dissolving.

Today, my spunky and rebellious princess turns two. Two years ago I had no plans to be alive days later, in fact I was so sure that I would not be. As I sit here getting this story out, most of it feels so far away and nightmarish. But, I know it happened. The tears spilling down my face as I sat here staring at this blank computer screen, knowing that I needed to get this out, remind me that this is my history. J, M, and C... I promise that I will do everything in my power to ensure that it does not become your destiny.

All my love. All my life.