Anxiety

One year ago, today, I checked into Ft. Belvoir Community Hospital. I was as pregnant as could be and even more excited. 

Tonight all I can think about is, "How has a whole year passed?" 

Unsurprisingly, I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder and post partem PTSD during my extended hospital stay in November 2013. I have a wonderful therapist and a wonderful Psychologist that I have working with me to treat these disorders. Last month I had a session with both my therapist and my Dr., and they were almost ready to clear me of my PTSD. They evaluated me the same way they did upon the first session and my results had improved greatly. 

Two days ago Johnny and I were playing and he stepped on my midline incision scar (the one that was used to create the ostomy, it runs vertically through my naval) and his little toes pushed in a litttle bit too deep. I felt a burning, almost tearing sensation. I was immediately transported back to a moment in the hospital when a nurse was pulling tissue and packing from that very wound. I could hear whooshing IV machine, I could feel the air filled hospital bed. I could even smell the sterile air.  There were two nurses arguing across my body about how the wound was being cared for. My heart began to race and I asked for Ativan for my anxiety.

This was a PTSD flashback and I hadn't had one in months. My husband was concerned. He thought Johnny had hurt me. I was paralized to the floor for about ten minutes, weeping. I told him I had a flashback and he understood. 

I can't stop time but I want to rewind it. I want to go back to one year ago, before all of the pain. I want to tell the Dr.'s what to do differently, tell them to do a ceserean. I want those first three months with Johnny back, only without a fog of pain medication. I want to breast feed my baby. 

His birthday is tomorrow, October 29th. He was born at 9:51 P.M. We went home on Halloween. I have a ball of anxiety deep in my stomach about his birthday. I don't know how I will feel, how much of the day will be spent crying. I want to remember his birth as a joyous moment, because it was! It was the most triumphant and beautiful experience of my life. The events that took place in the weeks after are what cause me such pain. 

However, when I close my eyes and travel back to the birthing room, the first thing I hear is my flesh being cut like a chicken breast between kitchen shears and the first thing I see are the bright lights being switched on so that the Dr. can see where she is sewing. I have to push extremelly hard past those things to hear his first cry and remember my tears of exhaustion and happiness and wonder.

I want to go back. It's al I can think about. I want these emotional scars to go away. How can they when I see the physical scars every day and all I want is to go back?