*This blog post is an excerpt from my journal. Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts, and hospitalization*
You can read Part 1, 2, and 3 here.
Written Feb 14, 2019. Events took place the end of January.
I don’t think any husband imagines a day when he’d have to walk his wife into the mental hospital. I sure don’t think mine did. We’d been married nearly 7.5 years when my postpartum mental illness finally escalated out of control. It had gradually gotten worse after each birth. Now four sons in I could see no way out.
It was exactly 18 month prior we found ourselves driving to the birthing center for the birth of our unexpected son. He would be the caboose of our family, totaling four boys in five years.
Now 18 month later I sobbed as my husband drove to the mental hospital. I wouldn’t be home there next morning to see my baby be 18 months. I wouldn’t get a picture of us. What hurt the most was the reality that I could never be in another photo again. Never be at another birthday, never play with my kids again. I could steal all those innocent kid years from them in an instant when I wasn’t being myself. Continue reading