My NICU PTSD Experience

PTSD doesn't just effect those who've been to war or in the military. We learned the hard way that it effects families of those whose children are born sick and spend time in the NICU watching their baby struggle and almost loose the battle. When I was first told by a NICU nurse that she thought I had PTSD I was confused and asked why she thought that. After talking to her extensively about it, it became painfully true. And even more painfully true as my doctor back home diagnosed me with it as well. It was hell. Reliving the heartbreaking tragic moments over and over again. Flash backs and nightmares. The crying and freak outs. I never knew when I would have an "episode". I am thankful that 3 1/2 years after Liam was born that I haven't had an "episode" in a while and the last few nightmares I had I was able to get through and not let the feelings linger. In a way I feel blessed to have gone through this journey because it has only made me and my family stronger and now we get to concentrate on the present and making up for lost time. We try to enjoy each day for what it is. God gave us a little boy that can overcome anything and a little girl who has learned to overcome anything in her path and loves with all her heart. We could have walked away from this sad and miserable but we choose not too because life is too short. We choose not to let the bad take away the good. The first year was the hardest. The second came real close. His third year has been a complete different experience and for that we have to be thankful. If you aren't thankful for what you have then you don't deserve to have it. I won't say that I'm 100% PTSD free. I don't think I will ever be. But it's manageable and will get better with time. Maybe it's Gods way of reminding me that sometimes you have to have nothing to have everything. When I was on my knees (well stuck in bed after an csection) I ran to God. I prayed, begged and pleaded for Liam to survive. I confided in him and told him that I truely didn't think I was strong enough to go on without my baby boy. It was the weakest I've ever felt in my entire life. Everything about NICU seemed like my own personal hell. The first week was difficult to say the least. I couldn't take anything good from the experience. All I saw was hell. All I did was pray. The beeping of the machines. The alarms going off telling us something was wrong. The tubes, wires, all overwhelmed my tiny little boy laying on the bed. On many occasions I was pushed out of the way so that they could help him. I didn't mind being pushed. I got out of their way as fast as I could knowing that his life was in their hands, and Gods. Day in and day out, I sat there alone listening to the beeping. When the day came for his repair surgery, I sat there alone, not knowing if he would make it through the procedure or the critical days to follow. I can't say I processed things properly. I don't even think there's a proper way to process it but I did the best I could. I'm happy and blessed to be in a much better place mentally now than I was then. I reach out to other parents who've gone through this or are going through this and help them in any way I can. It's my way of overcoming and making sure no one goes through this alone like I did. It's a rough road and you come out with scars but you can survive.