Kyle and I left the hospital and headed directly to the hotel I had booked for us to begin the initial steps of dumping our grief. I chose a hotel in Southfield, off any main roads that I planned to be able to dump our grief at for the next couple days and then leave it behind to never see again. Wow, was that time hard. Kyle and I unloaded our stuff into the hotel room and sat. I was still in a lot of physical pain at my csection site and was struggling to walk. I think we grabbed a beer down at the hotel bar but then came up to bed and tried to sleep. We kept Netflix on as we both couldn’t stand the thought of trying to sleep in silence alone with our thoughts. We already felt so alone and suffocated in our thoughts. I begged for the Holy Spirit to give me relief and help me sleep. I woke up the next morning with thankfulness for the Holy Spirit for having put me to sleep. We woke up and chose to immediately leave. I needed to pick up all my medications (3 antibiotics, Ativan, a narcotic and 800mg ibuprofen). In a random Meijer we picked up my medication and some water. I was walking incredibly slow, like alarmingly slow as every step was extremely painful. My lower stomach area hurt so much but I was convinced this was just normal c section healing and probably a little grief. I'll acknowledge that the lack of awareness was a mistake.
People tend to give us a funny look when we tell them that we spent a lot of our time shopping during these grief dumping days. The hotel room would get so incredibly thick with grief and hurt that we chose to leave and seek out “hits of dopamine” through retail therapy. We started at somerset where Kyle got new work clothes and myself some lulu lemon pants. I had to ask for us to sit down quite often or slow down because I was in so much pain and needed a break from walking. Every step hurt. My midwife called me right when we had left the mall and headed to lunch. She made the solid realization that my milk supply was probably still coming in (it was) and it was probably very distressing (it was). She prescribed me a medication that would dry up my milk supply immediately but would cause some heavy nausea for a couple hours. This was Thursday. After lunch we headed to Oakland church to meet with our Pastor for the first time since throwing ourselves at him earlier in this process. Himself and the church’s grief pastor really poured their hearts into us and we left superficially yet deeply spiritually replenished. Now what? We decided to see our kids, me for the first time since all of this. They were being watched at my BIL’s house and we knew it was a safe place to go to and leave once we put them to bed. Seeing my babies was unexpectedly very therapeutic. They gave me an internal strength by reminding me about my continued purpose on this Earth as their mama. However, we returned back to our dungeon of grief in that hotel room and I fought the demons of despair a lot that night. The Holy Spirit put me to bed after an intense conversation with me. To sum it up in a short nippet:
Me:”why won’t you reveal yourself to me? Where are you?”
Holy Spirit:” I am fighting many many battles for you.I am here.”
Me:”I love you Lord”
Holy Spirit: “my love for you is beyond your understanding.”
Friday morning came and Kyle and I rushed out to escape the thickness of grief we were starting to imprint into that room and headed for breakfast. I felt rough physically and really struggled to walk without wincing but I needed anything but rest at that time. We went to Target after and weirdly was where we both cried over buying a storage tote with intention to store Alba’s items in as well as hugged and sat in a moment of hope while we agreed that we did want to have another baby together someday. What waited for us back at the hotel room was paperwork. Phone calls that forced us to address the hardest thing in our entire lives only 2 days later. Kyle handled everything, billing and insurance while I googled funeral homes.
Once our mandatory errands were completed, we were drained and needing to escape the room again. To dinner we went. It was this dinner where I realized that if I drank, the rainstorm of grief would hit me because God’s supernatural peace worked as an umbrella to protect me but moved every time I drank. The crippling depression and anxiety that hit me in that bar still has me wishing to never return to it. I drove us home. I decided to take the milk drying medication this night with hopes to sleep through the nausea. It didn’t work and this night was where the hot flashes and cold chills began.
Saturday morning came and I knew I had a fever but also knew that my oral antibiotics had to be doing something so I wasn’t too worried. The hot flashes and cold chills were surprising but in my delusion had convinced myself that the milk drying medication was causing a more severe reaction with me. To another mall we went, 12 oaks this time. Kyle parked the car and I remember looking at a small hill of grass across the parking lot that looked warm with the sun shining down. I wanted so badly to go lay down and sleep and be warm because I was freezing cold in my leggings and T-shirt. We walked at a snail's pace as I still winced in sharp pain at every movement. With 1 pit stop at the seating sections you find in the middle, I made it to lulu lemon and purchased joggers and a sweatshirt to put on immediately. Like I put it on, ripped the tags off and brought the tags to the register to purchase. I could not think clearly. As soon as I warmed up, my body overcompensated and turned into a hot flash, I stripped out of my sweatshirt and just wanted to sleep. I chalked this up to the crazy post partum hormones everyone talks about. We went back to Kyle’s brother’s house to see the kids and then after they went to bed we joined the family at a fundraiser casino night down the street. Even with heavy pain meds around the clock, I winced at every move and dealt with the drastic random changes in body temperature. I remember sitting at a blackjack table and literally feeling like a zombie, physically and emotionally. The pain meds were working but my emotional state was capped out for the day. I was ready to be alone and cry myself to sleep. Kyle and I had reached a point of not being able to face the darkness that our hotel room carried any longer. We slept on his brother’s couch and left at 6am before we knew our girls would be up. I was physically shaking at this point from being so cold and we got into the car and headed to a birthday breakfast for myself. Happy 29 to me… I laid the seat back and blared the heat on me and tried to sleep. When we arrived, I forced my mind to make myself physically move and get out of the car. I was SO cold. We sat down and I couldn’t settle my body down. I ordered a coffee to help but couldn’t even drink my water because I was shaking so much. Kyle looked so concerned and nervous and mentioned that we should go in because this can’t be normal. I convinced him that I’m not that bad and these symptoms had to be going away soon. I shook the entire meal and ride back to our hotel room. I jumped into a steaming hot shower but quickly realized that I might faint. I called Kyle in and made him sit on the toilet seat next to the shower in case I passed out. The sheer will I had of fighting the black out as my freezing cold body warmed up in the piping hot shower. Again everyone, I was absolutely delusional in my grief and I am able to look back at this time and be so grateful that I am here today.
We went to the funeral home and made our arrangements but afterwards we cancelled plans to see some of Kyle’s family who were in town and instead decided to go to our house for the first time and sleep. No one was home and it was the perfect time to face Alba’s room and cry without being a parent. This was Sunday at this point and we had planned to return home that night anyway to begin our transition into normal living and parenting again. I stayed in bed the entire day and slept. I woke up in the evening only to eat something small and prepare myself for the next morning. Before bed I had noticed that my incision site/area had become hard, and protruding out as if I was very bloated. I had convinced myself that this must be from not having pooped in a week. I was beginning to be slightly alarmed at the amount of things going on though (slightly…*face palm*).
That Sunday nights sleep, on my birthday, was the craziest experience I ever went through. I was in so much pain at this point. Unable to even get out of bed without Kyle’s help or verbally grunting in pain. Rolling over was unbearable. I managed to find myself in and out of sleep as my body fought the intense pain but while I was out, or at least while I thought I was out, I began to dream. I dreamt of this huge castle sitting in the corner of my bedroom that was run by transformation church. There were so many rooms in this castle. Angels had come and visited me and told me that we were going to compartmentalize my pain by putting little bits of pain in each room until Jesus could come to take it all away. These angels continued to reassure me that Jesus was on his way to relieve my pain and that I should actually turn on the flashlight to my phone so that I may be able to see him more clearly when he arrives. Now, in real life I was still peeing constantly (normal PP hormones I’ve learned) and I had actually gotten up to use the bathroom. I was in so much pain but thinking about the crazy dream I was having of these angels. As I went back to my bed, I noticed the flashlight to my phone was on….like in real life, my flashlight was on. I froze and for some reason felt like I wasn’t alone with the room, outside of Kyle obviously. I grunted my way back into bed and just tried to focus on making it through the night. I continued to dream the same dream. My alarm woke me up to get Nani ready for the bus. Kyle and I sat there, I didn’t share with him the night I had and slowly focused on working up the will to get out of this bed and get my daughter ready for school. I slowly got up and made my way to her room. “I’ve got to tell Kyle how bad this is getting.” was my thought as I went to find clothes for Nani. Everything I did was slow and full of complete focus on not passing out. Suddenly, I felt the slightest tear in my incision site occur and my pants began to become completely saturated in drainage. It was a very alarming amount, as if someone had dumped an entire gallon of liquid on my abdomen. I squeezed my hands onto my site and screamed for Kyle. My mom and his mom were still there to help us and we rushed out the door to the hospital. Clarity finally began to come into my mind as I knew I was going back to my place of torture and trauma to be admitted. I had to face my torture house again only 5 days after escaping it.