Adjustments in Perspective

Last week, it occurred to me that I had never researched Lil' Bit's pulmonary hypertension.  When I found out she only had one pulmonary artery, I scoured the web for information.  But, somehow, when the doctor said she had increased pressure in her heart and labeled it "pulmonary hypertension," it did not occur to me that it was A CONDITION.  Imagine my surprise when I found gobs of information, including a Pulmonary Hypertension Association, which included (wonderful!) resources for parents of kids who have it.  Sadly, one of the things I discovered is that they don't know much.  Part of the problem is that the research generally involves adults, making it hard to know if the same will hold true for children.  In addition, research and treatment are pretty new.  Thus, much of the information still talks about a 2-3 year morbidity rate for adults who leave the condition untreated.  It is extremely hard to find any information about morbidity rates for those receiving treatment, let alone for children receiving treatment.  But, even in my frustration at not finding all of the information I had been hoping to find, I did learn a few things.

First, I learned that Lil' Bit had a chronic condition.  I know this seems like a "well duh," but actually it was was hard to accept.  Back when we were told she needed surgery, we assumed that once she had the surgery, she would be fixed.  Then, we ended up having to do meds, which we thought would be for one year.  Now it looks more like two.  The truth is, we don't know how long she'll need the meds.  It may be forever.  And so, I have decided to treat it like it will be forever.  If I tell myself that she will need meds 6 times a day for the rest of her life, I can quit waiting for the next disappointment.  I can figure out how to schedule my life so that I can do things and get out of the house instead of telling myself that, if I just hold out until X date, things will get easier.  If she ends up getting off meds, or has fewer, BONUS.  But, if not, I'm not stuck in a holding pattern.

Second, I learned that we were doing a good job.  When I went to my doctor to get my anti-depressants, since he is also Lil' Bit's GP, I asked him if we were doing a good job with her.  I certainly thought we were, but I had no frame of reference.  I have never raised a "regular" child, let alone one with special needs.  I could tell myself that we were doing well all I wanted, but it would not calm me.  I needed someone who knew what he was talking about to tell me so.  I can believe an expert.  What he told me made me cry.  He said we were doing "phenomenal."  He said that when he had other people bring in children who had semi-serious conditions, he would hold us out as example parents.  Me.  An example parent.  Huh.  We thought we were failing at normal.  Turns out, we're exceeding at very hard.  Which leads me to...

Third, what we are doing is very hard.  We talked with Lil' Bit's cardiologist recently about what he thought Lil' Bit's long-term care needs would be in an effort to factor that in to our consideration of whether we would have additional children.  We also talked to him about the increased risk of additional children having heart issues.  Like Dr. R, Dr. S was extremely complimentary on how we are doing.  He acknowledged that the social aspects of giving meds to anyone, let alone a child, 6 times a day is difficult and admitted that he had a hard time taking one med once a day for 10 days.  He said he understood that he made recommendations and wanted people to follow them, but he also understood that it was difficult to do so, and that we deserved a medal for doing as well as we were.

Fourth, I learned that what we are doing is very hard.  This lesson is listed twice because it cannot be over emphasized.  I have to stop comparing myself to parents with children who had no or few health issues.  I also have to stop comparing myself to parents whose children have more difficult conditions than mine.  You know, I think the lesson here is to stop comparing myself.  But, I digress.  I need to, and must, allow myself to acknowledge that what I am doing is not easy.  Only by doing so will I schedule time for my own self-care.  Otherwise, I will just try to power through because I should be able to.  If it's hard, there is no reason to power through.  I can give myself permission to be tired and exhausted.  These are reasonable feelings when dealing with "something hard" and allow me to take time for me.  

With these lessons, I have two choices.  I can accept them, or I can ignore them.  I have opted for the former and am working to adjust my perspective to the "new normal."  I don't know how bad Lil' Bit's condition will ultimately be, so I am going to enjoy every day I have with her.  I don't know how long things will be difficult, so I will make time for me in the craziness that exists instead of waiting for the calm that may never be.  And, I don't know what it's like to parent any other child, so I won't try; I will just work on being the best parent I can be to the child I have.  If I can do those three things, it will be enough.

Returning to Myself

The last month has been really hard for me.  I finally sucked up my pride and went to the doctor for some antidepressants.  I was exhausted and burnt out.  I had reached the point where I was nonfunctional and that wasn't helping anyone.  My morning routine was shot.  I quit making real breakfast and just ate cereal.  I stopped taking full showers every morning.  All I wanted to do after dropping Lil' Bit off at daycare was drive home and curl up under the covers.  I ate potato chips and Snickers bars for lunch.  I almost never ate dinner, and if I did, it was likely ice cream.

I always thought of myself as a strong capable person.  And, truth be told, I still am.  I was just dealt an extra heavy dose of life recently.  Still, I HATED having to get meds.  Nothing makes me feel weaker and less in control than having to medicate myself.  But none of that changes the fact that I needed it.

So, I go talk to my doctor and he prescribed me a mild, entry-level antidepressant.  It gave me nausea and insomnia the first week (not helping!), but those finally went away.  However, new and more problematic side effects started to occur and I ended up in the ER the Saturday before Easter (really not helping!).  I stopped that med immediately and when I went to my doctor last week he put me on a different class of anti-depressant.  This one has been amazing.  I felt better after two days.  I've even had a few bouts of baby fever--proving I'm feeling better!

In fact, yesterday I not only felt like my old self again, but I felt like I did before I had Lil' Bit.  I felt like a capable parent.  And as that awareness dawned on me, it occurred to me that maybe I had been dealing with depression longer than I thought.  See, I knew being a parent made you feel tired and overwhelmed, so when I felt that way after having Lil' Bit, I assumed it was just the lack of sleep.  I never felt sad or anything that I thought of as "depressed."  But, given how much better I feel now, I think I was suffering from mild postpartum depression.  Nothing huge, and nothing that wouldn't have gone away with time, EXCEPT for suddenly having all of Lil' Bit's medical issues to deal with, and a miscarriage, and, and, and.  Stress and grief piled up to create situational depression that exacerbated the postpartum depression I didn't know I had and *poof* the world was a horrible place that kept dumping on me and I just wanted to hide until it stopped.

Now that I have come out from under the clouds and feel so much better, I wish I had done this sooner.  I hate that my pride and stubbornness prevented me from seeking help.  But, rather than beat myself up about it, I can take pleasure in the fact that I did, eventually, do something about it, and now, I am loving being a parent again.  I *might* even consider doing it again.  But even if we ultimately decide not to try again, I feel like I'm in a better place to accept whatever we decision we make because it won't be made from what felt like a place of defeat or resignation, but from a place of comfort and acceptance.  I know this will sound crazy coming from a planner and control freak, but I'm finally looking forward to what lies ahead without knowing what it will be.  Who knew surrender could be so freeing?!  Oh, right...  Well, at least I finally got here.  Welcome to MWS 2.0 (Mommy, Wife, Self).  Let's take her out for a spin!