Birth Trauma Survivor and Maternal Health Advocate

“Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

I had to take a break.

I hadn’t watched “The Heart of Beauty” in a very long time until I shared it with you. At the time of filming last January, Miss J was 21 months old. Miss J has hit every developmental milestone on time, if not early. I thought about all the times I posted updates about Miss J on my Facebook page and emailed my friends and family videos and pictures that displayed her achievements from the day of her birth onwards. Rolling over. Crawling. Standing. Walking. Talking. I wished so badly that Christine could hear the sound of Mikey’s voice. It broke my heart.

I wanted a miracle to happen for her that weekend, but it didn’t.

Reliving the filming again has been good for me. I can see how far I have come. “The Heart of Beauty” was a secret that very few people were aware of. I hate keeping secrets. I have had to keep way too many in my life. When I watch the video, I am reminded of how much I truly care about telling these types of stories. I am also reminded of how I was completely delusional in thinking that I was over what happened after Miss J was born. When I look at the video, I see past the seemingly confident interviewer/make-up artist. I see a mom, a wife and a friend in pain. I see someone who hopes that by trying to do something good in the world, she can heal her own wounds.

I hate PTSD. I wish Dr. B had never suggested I had it. I hated the confirmation of the diagnosis by my therapist. There I was, almost two years after Miss J’s birth and still a lost soul. I called my old therapist, Dr. Jones. Yes, the one I hated. She no longer had time in her schedule for me. Of course not.  No love lost there. She told me that she would give me a few references and get back to me shortly. I didn’t hear from Dr. Jones until almost three weeks later. Thank goodness I wasn’t on the verge of a complete breakdown!

I started looking into PTSD therapists on my own.

I found a practice in the city that specialized in helping people who lived through all different types of trauma. I kept visiting the website over and over again for several months, but I could never bring myself to dial the number or, even less, send an email. Being immersed in the MacPherson’s lives made me realize that I had to face this head on if I wanted to find peace within myself. I was not only inspired by their story, but how they handled themselves. I was inspired by their ability to face all of their challenges with love and dignity. I was inspired by their ability to not feel jealous towards their friends who had children without special needs. I was inspired to begin my journey towards facing my challenges head on. There are so many of us out there. Wives, moms and friends. We are going through the motions. How many of us are suffering in silence? How many of us are really living our own truths? How could I help others when I hadn’t helped myself?

I was inspired to find other women out there like myself. We need each other. It wasn’t over. I had to go back to therapy. I finally sat down and sent an email.

It was time for a new beginning.

 

P.S. Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. Christine posted a video of Mikey on her Facebook page. They were sitting together and she was saying the word “baby” to him over and over again. “Baby” is the name she calls him the most. After a few moments, Mikey said the word baby and he said it more than once!  I watched the video several times with tears streaming down my face. There is so much more for Mikey to say, and I know that we will witness all of his thoughts materialize into words one day.

I am thankful. I know that miracles are possible. 

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