The day before I felt like I was going to throw up. The stomach flu was going around and I was sick to my stomach. I felt so awful that for the first time in my life I forced myself to puke on hopes of feeling better. My stomach ache, however, didn’t subside.
In the middle of the night the pain grew worse. A fever arose, and my teeth chattered so loud I could hear them. The chattering shook so violently that I thought I was having a seizure. What was going on? I wondered. I clung to a heat pack, not knowing that was the worst possible thing I could do. Every time my husband brought my infant to me so I could nurse him I cringed because I was in such pain, yet I had to keep my baby alive. This is just the stomach flu I told myself, and tried to get through it.
The next morning a nonchalant trip to the walk-in center instead turned into not being able to walk, and then into an ambulance ride to the hospital.
In the ambulance the paramedics pumped me with pain meds and drugs to keep me calm. I am grateful they gave me calming medicine without telling me. It made the news more bearable- my appendix had either just ruptured it was about to – only emergency surgery could tell. My infant at home, who relied solely on my breastfeeding him was suddenly without me. While I struggled to stay alive, he was at home also struggling to stay alive.
The surgeon got my appendix out just in time that my body didn’t grow septic. As antibiotics dripped through my veins for 3 days in the hospital, not only did I fight for my own life, but did everything I could to help my infant from afar. He wouldn’t take a bottle for anyone. I did all I could to track down donor milk, ask friends to nurse him, etc.
After a few days my infant finally took a bottle of chicken broth and then donor milk. When I arrived at home, his eczema face had started to clear. I proceeded to nurse him as my first instinct, only to have the skin on his face break out again.
The next few days I worked to get my child back on a bottle and tried to feed him donor milk. I felt it was better for both of our recovery. I fought fever after fever during this time while staying awake through day and night to focus on weaning my baby back to a bottle.
When my idea failed, my child wound up in the intensive care unit from refusing to eat. This was yet a constant fight for life. I was still fighting to heal my own body. Still fighting to get food for my baby at the same time. After days and days in the hospital the only solution was to continue breastfeeding him regardless of how it made his skin look. It was better for him to have eczema then it was to have him starve to death.
Coming home from the hospital we were hit with the news that my husband lost his job. Within a matter of a couple weeks we faced extreme eczema to the point of blisters and skin falling off the face, a ruptured appendix, a hypoglycemic infant who wasn’t waking up to iv’s in his head, and a lost job. It was no joke- it was hard.
I had never dealt with depression. I had never been suicidal. Growing up I always wondered why Gothic people liked black so much. Dealing with all the above listed events at once was hard. It seemed dark days were followed by dark days.
I grew depressed for a bit while struggling to comprehend the events that happened. I suddenly understood why depressed people liked the color black. They are wrapped in darkness- it is like black surrounds them all. When darkness chases you and you can’t get away from it, you seem to identify with the color.
I never was suicidal. The thought never crossed my mind. I used every ounce of energy I had to fight for my life and the lives of my loved ones. However, I can see how when people experience darkness day in and day out, without a glimpse of light, how the enemy could tempt them with such thoughts.
Thankfully I had glimmers of light that tried to shine through those days. Those glimmers of light grew and grew and God got us through it all.
If you are going through darkness, I encourage you to keep hoping. This book just got released!
The simple black cover with white writing is SO fitting for such a topic. This book is written by a wonderful woman who I know. She is genuine. My favorite memory of ” Big D” (who isn’t a big lady in stature by any means – but huge in heart), is one day where I sat and swept in a church pew. With a previous baby I was completely sleep deprived and hadn’t slept in a week. As I sobbed, Denise knelt at my feet and prayed for me. I will never forget that day.Big D shares her story with others. She shares her history of suicidal attempts- and of the light of God with others. She shares her story through her music and through her website: http://www.bigdblues.com/
If you are someone going through a tough time in life, I strongly encourage you to check out some of her stuff.