Times, they are a’changin’

 It’s been a long time since I have journaled. 

To be honest, the only reason that I am back is because I had a nervous breakdown and my therapist says one of my goals is to journal. 

I don’t know why I quit.

Actually I DO. Life. 

Life update: 

Russia invaded Ukraine, China is talking about invading Taiwan, and the US is at a 40 year inflation high. COVID 19 wrecked havoc on the US healthcare system causing millions to die and contributed to tons of burnout (mine included). Also during this time Ethan flooded the house that we just moved into causing 30k in water damage and 6 weeks rental hopping with 3 children. I transferred from med-surg to cath lab, back to med-surg, to an educator, back to med-surg as a manager, and recently stepped down to take a prn position.  It’s a great time to be alive, folks… (so much sarcasm)

Nathan is a fully stay at home dad, which is amazing for us, but also hard on me being the sole financial provider. But it is still the life we want! 

The kids started school last week: Benjamin in 2nd and Ethan started kindergarten. So now we just have Charlie home during the day, which is a nice adjustment.

I stepped down from a short lived manager position. I realized very quickly that the higher you climb the ladder, the more drama comes with it. Which leads me into the nervous breakdown.

I asked for help for months (read: BEGGED) from work and gave ideas and suggestions about how to lighten the workload. I was met with silence. I resigned and went prn in an emotional breakdown moment. About 2 weeks after that, I broke out in hives, requiring a visit to the urgent care. I received epinephrine (once IM and once IV!!!! Even though I questioned this as a nurse, the physician assured me it was okay - I learned later it is NOT okay.) which then bought me a trip to the ER and overnight observation. I developed PTSD and compounded with work stress, I had 3 panic attacks that resulted in ED visits. I have been working with my PCP who is amazing, on some meds and therapy. 

We don’t really know what caused the hives, but aside from a random mini breakdown a week later, I have been hive-free. So we all think it’s related to stress.

Hence the journaling. 

Life got too busy I guess. I also think I fell so hard into depression due to work burnout that I didn’t know where to find joy in my life. 

Journaling and writing helps. Walking helps. 

I’m still trying to find what brings me joy. 

At 35 (soon to be 36!) as a wife, mother to 3 beautiful boys, and nurse, I have lost who I am as an individual. I just feel so routine right now and that I’m just here to make money and provide. Which is fine, I am here to do that, but I have lost the individual and the joy in my role. So I am trying to find that. 

I can happily say that after 2 weeks of an increased dose of some antidepressants, I feel a little bit more like myself. A little bit. I can’t focus on anything worth a damn. That’s my biggest complaint right now. 

Mental health is so important, y’all. 

I preach it to everyone, literally, but I didn’t do it for MYSELF. 

I am someone who considers themselves mentally “strong”. I am suspicious, knowledgeable, not-gullible, and have been through a lot. I never ever thought in my entire life that I would be the one to have a nervous breakdown of sorts. But I did. 

I’m in it. Right now. Not breaking down, but rebuilding. Hopefully coming out of the other side stronger than before. 

I have always been burdened with anxiety, and I’ve always thought that I’ve “coped” well. I internalize. I don’t let people know when I’m stressed. When a patient codes, and we are trying to get them back, my heart is beating through my chest, but you wouldn’t know it by my face. You have to keep a level head, always. 

I have had panic attacks before, few and far between and have always been able to fix the situation. Either crying my eyes out in the shower for a minute, or just talking myself down in my head and taking deep breaths. Normal right? (It’s not)

But when I came home from the hospital, my heart rate was consistently over 120s, heading into the 170’s. I called EMS. I begged for a fluid bolus, and my heart rate went down. I couldn’t talk myself out of this panic. I was working myself up MORE. This was opposite of everything I’ve ever felt. I was so hyper aware. I could feel my heart beating fast, and was that chest pain? My jaw is hurting… that’s a sign of a heart attack in women… I’m dying. 

I did leave out the traumatic part of the urgent care story.

Long story short, when the nurse pushed the IV epinephrine under supervision of the physician, my heart rate jumped to over 200, I couldn’t breathe, and when I looked down, my feet were so pale. I knew I wasn’t perfusing. I took deep breaths and prayed to God that this isn’t how I go. They looked like corpse feet. Lifeless.

I felt deep pains in my chest, and prayed and tried to take deep, slow breaths. I luckily had the presence of mind to tell the nurse to STOP pushing it. Luckily it quickly resolved, but my heart rate stayed in the 120’s - 150’s secondary to the epinephrine use. The paramedics, the charge nurse in the ED, the nurses in the ED, the nurses that took care of me in my room, the physicians: all of them stated that they should NOT have pushed epinephrine IV. 

So, I’m struggling. As a healthcare provider, I know the risks. They literally could have killed me. Almost did. When I questioned the physician and said that the only time that I’ve ever administered epinephrine IV was during ACLS (ie: reviving a DEAD person), he said you can do it.

No.

Evidence based practice, which is what we all function off of as healthcare providers, states that you give IM or IV drip with titration. Which means that it is highly regulated and precise within a pump. IV pushes when mixed with saline are essentially bolus amounts. You don’t know how much is where, and where is is concentrated, or if it is evenly distributed throughout the vial.

I know this is boring.

But knowing this as a healthcare provider, and seeing how the system (the same system I work for) failed me multiple times, just makes me sick.

I see my PCP today for a 2 week checkup.

I got my hair done yesterday for the first time in over a year. My therapist told me that is “maintenance” and I shouldn’t feel guilty about it. I will admit, I feel like a new human with my hair fixed. It really is the little things, and I’m trying to embrace that. 

I have off work until October… I will see if I can take off that much time financially, but my therapist suggests that I take the entire time to heal. 

She said, and I agree, that “You can’t take care of other people when you haven’t taken care of yourself. There’s nothing left to give to others! It’s drained, gone.”

So, self-care. 

I’m trying to balance Mom-me and Me-me. But also dodge the ever-grasping arms of depression that want me to just stay in bed all day. It’s hard. It’s a battle literally. But it’s getting easier. Slowly. I feel like I can breathe again. 

But I am searching for joy. Praying for it.

Anyway, all this to say, mental health is important, especially with the world being in such a bad place right now. Take time to make sure you and your friends are okay. 

Insomnia

I’m supposed to get up for work in 5.5 hours.
So what the heck am I doing up?

I don’t know. I took 2 Benadryl, so maybe they will kick in soon!

Updates!

We moved and are so in love with our new house. It requires us to budget more than we had to with the old house, but it’s worth it. Nathan is still a time home with the boys, but it makes so much more sense than having to put them in daycare.

Benjamin turned 5 (holy cow!) and had a Mickey Mouse party. We got the boys a trampoline and they love it. Ethan is still my terrible-two-year-old. We are working on things. I can’t believe how different he and Benjamin are. Benjamin was and is still so sweet and listens and is just the sweetest boy in the world. Ethan can definitely be sweet, but he knows how to push my buttons and push those boundaries. I’m hoping Charlie has more of a Benjamin disposition.

Charlie is 5 months old now! And so so sweet. He tries talking to us already! And he’s. Rolling over! He started doing that about a week or so ago. They’re so quick to grow!

Three kids is hard though. I think we are for sure done with having babies. As much as it pains me to say, I want to be able to give them all attention and it’s hard. It’s very hard. But the struggle is worth it. Seeing their smiles and feeling their hugs when I get home and changed from the hospital is just the best. I have a wonderful partner to help as well! Nathan really is a great partner and husband and friend and there’s no way that I could do this without him.

His brother is living with us for a month or so while he gets his job settles in Savannah.

Speaking of jobs, I applied for a cath observation job at my hospital which would be three days a week with no weekends, no holidays, and no call. That sounds great to me! Plus it would be a change of pace. I love being a nurse but with the way that staffing is, floor nursing is very demanding and very hard physically and mentally and emotionally. Med-surg nursing is generally considered something that you do as a stepping stone of sorts to get your experience in and then you move onto something else or a different specialty. I’ve been doing it for 6 years, so it’s time to do something else. Plus it doesn’t help that I’ve been passed over for a Charge job 4 times. It’s a little deflating and humiliating to feel like you’re not good enough to be a full time charge nurse but good enough to charge every time you don’t have someone else to do it. It’s frustrating. So, I’m praying for a change if it’s the right thing for my family. I’ve trusted God this far and this long, and He has a plan. This I know and am so sure about.

I’m also about to start on a weight loss journey again. I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been. I clocked in at 205 pounds today at the doctor’s office. I just go up and up and up after having my babies. I want to feel like a woman again and not a fat out of shape mom. I mean I like the mom part, but I still want to feel like a woman and feel good about myself. So, I’m going hard at it starting tomorrow. Or today rather. I look back and see where I weighed 157 pounds and would cry and cry. I would kill to be “that fat” now. All in good time I guess.

I guess I’m just here to spell out my prayers and my life for now. I pray that Nathan has patience and can relax when he has the kids alone. I know it’s hard and he is a rockstar doing it while I’m at work. But I pray for him. I pray for my babies. That they have a life of comfort and love and peace and know how much we both love them and I pray that God gives us the direction to raise them right. I pray about this job opportunity and for me to take it if it’s the right thing for us. I pray for my photography and that it will continue to bring us a supplemental income. I pray that my family and Nathan’s family is safe and happy. I pray my mom can come visit more. I pray that my brother can come visit more. I miss my family. That’s for another blog that I don’t have time for right now though.

Finally, I pray that I can sleep so that I can function today! Amen!

Motherhood

I don’t know how to explain it.
For some reason, this time around, I feel more like a mother. I mean, I have really fallen in love with being a mother. It’s such a comfort this time around.
Maybe it’s because my body and my head know that it’s my last baby.
But my heart isn’t so sure.

I look at my sweet thriving baby and just smile. And when he smiles I want to cry because he is so beautiful and so perfect and precious.

We waited 10 days to take him home.

After he went to NICU with his pneumo, we had to wait 10 long days to take him home because his heart rate would drop or his oxygen would drop.

We prayed and prayed for our sweet Charlie, and we got to take him home. I have finally been able to breastfeed. Well, pump. My milk is supplying his feedings and it makes me feel like a superstar to be able to do that for him. It’s hard and gets overwhelming at times, but it’s so worth it.

I don’t know what prompted me to write this.

I have a wedding today and I can’t sleep. I keep thinking of my babies.

I love them so much. Benjamin is nearly 5 (which is insane!) and Ethan is 3 in January. Charlie is 10 weeks old. It’s been 10 weeks with my baby already. I don’t want to go back to work.

This is the first time that I didn’t want to go back to work. To get away and have some adult time. I think it finally clicked for me that this is my life. This is what it’s all about. Family.

Nathan is staying home with the babies as I go back to work. It’s truly a blessing that I can do that. We have 4 days off together every week. Together as a family.

We have done so much on my time off from work. We saw family, fireworks, did splash pads and went to St. Simons. We went swimming and had cook outs and went to festivals.

Something is different this time. I don’t know what, but I like it.

Buying a minivan and carting kids around wasn’t ever really my game plan for me. I knew I wanted kids but I knew I would always work. Which I am. But something is different.

I love kissing the boo boos and cuddling the kids. Putting them to bed and saying prayers. I love cuddling Charlie and touching his little smooth rolls and his baby soft hair on his head. I love looking into his eyes and seeing the miracle that he is. I love seeing Benjamin laugh and Ethan giggle. I love taking candid photos of them while they’re cooking with dad. I love watching my older boys love on Charlie. I love this life.

I feel like I’ve lost a lot of my identity being a mom and being pregnant. I have gained a lot of weight and I struggle with my self image and worth a lot. But I see my babies and I know that they don’t care about that. They see mama.

I am going to soak up these last 2 weeks of staying home.

We are trying to sell our house and move. I am praying hard that we will sell it. We were under contract but the buyers backed out after we signed on what seems like the perfect home for us. I’m praying hard for a buyer.

Anyway, just some thoughts. I love my family. I love my babies.

I may be an emotional mess, but my heart is so full.

Charlie Isaac is Here!

I wanted to write while all of this whirlwind of a delivery was fresh in my mind. My sweet boy is just over 24 hours old! He was born 5/15/19 at 4:31 AM, weighing a whopping 8lbs and 14oz and some 22 inches long! He had a small pneumothorax just like his oldest brother Benjamin, so he is in the NICU right now, but I was able to hold him this morning (a few hours ago!) very early. He’s a precious little chunk. Even though he’s my biggest, holding his little head in the palm of my hand reminds me of how tiny he still is. A breath of fresh air for me, and a heavy aching of love in my heart to just hold him. He’s precious.

Now for the delivery story...

I don’t know what I was thinking. I think I was trying to prove how tough I was after hearing women accomplishing a natural labor, but I was bound and determined to do it pain medicine free. This meant no epidural, no pain meds of any type. What I forgot to do research on, was what are the odds of making it through a pitocin INDUCED labor naturally. I will say that I was managing very well until I was about 9 cm. 9-10 was a horrific blur of sweating, crying, yelling, and fidgeting that was almost an out of body experience. Never in my life have I ever hurt so bad that I thought that I was literally dying. It felt like someone was slowly breaking my back by kicking me to death. The contractions, as painful as they were, were tolerable even at their worst, because I knew they would peak and end, even if just for a minute. From 9-10 cm I had constant pain and pressure in my back and sacrum that was incredibly unbearable. I was in so much pain that the words that people were saying to me were not making sense. The doctor and nurses telling me to put my legs back towards myself meant nothing to me, and I couldn’t follow directions. I’ve never been out of my element and delirious like that before. Once the undeniable feeling of pushing started, it wouldn’t stop. When I pushed, I felt relief. A sweet bit of relief for a second and then back to untolerable pain. I kept saying that I had to push, and I was met with a sea of “no, wait!” But after 12 hours of unmedicated labor on the max of pitocin being administered, “no” was not an option. I tried to wait while the doctor was called and quickly putting on his sterile gown and gloves. He barely made it to me in time to help me deliver my sweet boy. 3 huge pushes and he was out into the world, with hair (he may be a brunette!)  and covered in cheese. Somehow I didn’t tear (thank goodness).

Poor Nathan was tearing up, watching me beg for medicine, anything for pain. My nurse literally carried me through my labor. She gave me counterpressure, she rubbed my head and my hand, she put me into positions that I didn’t think I was possible to be in. She talked me through it all. She’s a hero. Her name is Kia and I will never forget her.

More about Charlie!

He was covered in “baby cheese” which leads me to believe that he was overdue and that I was right about my due date. Also backing this up is the fact that he had a meconium poop an hour after he was born, which I am such a believer in God’s plan, and I’ll tell you why. If we had waited to induce today (which was an option), he surely would have pooped in the womb, and with his pneumothorax and everything else that happened, he could have been way worse off when he made his entrance.
We are so blessed that even though he had to go to NICU, he’s otherwise incredibly healthy. He’s on some oxygen treatment to help seal the pneumothorax, which on repeat chest X-ray, looks a lot better and is almost resolved. We are repeating one this morning to see if we can take him off oxygen (yay!) and maybe start feeding him (double yay!). I’ve been pumping and bringing my milk (although I’m not making a lot right now) and bringing it to the NICU for him which the nurse used to swan his mouth with so he gets a taste for it. He’s the tiniest little miracle baby, and I know he’s a fighter.

I remember when I got my Mirena removed and we wanted to try again, the doctor said that it could be a year before I got pregnant again. I had slight spotting 2 days later, and then nothing. 3 weeks later I took a pregnancy test and it was positive! I had a lot of bleeding after that though, and was warned that it probably wouldn’t “stick”. It took blood tests and days of stress and prayer and crying to wait for the results that I wanted to hear: we were pregnant! A miracle.

This time was easier to accept that I was having a boy and that I was going to be a boy mom! He was a miracle, and to be honest, I love my boys. I know boys and God has a plan! I believe that mine is to raise sweet boys because I probably couldn’t handle a girl!

Leading up to delivery I had some really rough and painful days. This is the heaviest that I have been, and I think that contributed to that. I’m still super swollen (like all of my pregnancies) so I’m trying to drink more water and have that come off. It’s rough when your feet are like softballs! I have swelling everywhere, so I’m hoping for a lot of that to come off soon and feel better! My stomach/uterus/crotch hurts from all of the cramping and mashing and baby-pushing, but that’s all to be expected.

I’m actually a lot more prepared for this sweet babe I feel like. Since I already sleep on nap cycles, I feel better prepared to wake up and feed and hold this sweet peanut.

I’m super excited to hold my baby, and I’ve got to pump in about 45 minutes, so I’m going to watch some Law and Order and drink up some water!

Praise God for my sweet baby ❤️❤️❤️