Postpartum Psychosis Part 2: The Hospitals

Here is part 1

I can't remember all of the details of the this part of my psychotic episode, but I was in the hospital—actually, three hospitals—for a total of nine days.

I was super anxious when we arrived at the first hospital. It took some convincing for Nick to get me out of the car, and once he did, he got me a wheel chair so I could hold still while we waited in the lobby of the emergency room. What I remember about the emergency room is that I thought I had died. I thought that I was experiencing the final judgement, and I thought the doctors there were Jesus. I kept calling everyone Jesus and trying to hold their hands. It was so important to me at that time to find Jesus and to hold onto him, but the doctors couldn't hold on forever, so in my mind it was as if I kept losing Jesus, making me worry I was going to hell.

The doctors ran a number of tests to rule out any sort of medical cause to the symptoms I was experiencing. I don't remember all of the tests, which is a good thing because I've been told that some of them were painful. The one I do remember is the MRI. I thought I was finally passing on to the next life and I didn't want to go in until Nick held my hand. He kept squeezing my hand three times, which is one of our ways of saying "I love you." However, at that moment I thought it meant that we were only having three kids, which we had already had, meaning it was time for me to die. I really want four kids, so I remember squeezing his hand four times in an attempt to tell him, "No, wait! I can't die, I want one more kid."

I remember my mom showing up at one point after all the tests in the emergency room and being very upset and sad, but trying to put on a happy face for me. She had flown in the day after hearing I was going to the emergency room to help take care of the kids and to see me. I thought her being there was like her greeting me on the other side of the veil. I remember her trying to get me to eat something, but in my mind I was just a spirit and didn't need to eat. She also helped me go to the bathroom when the nurses needed a urine sample, but I kept thinking, "I'm a spirit, people. I don't need to go to the bathroom anymore!" It took a lot of convincing for me to eat as well, and I remember trying to circle coffee on the hospital menu my mom handed me. (I don't drink coffee, but I love to tease my mom!) 

Following the emergency room, I remember waiting in an ambulance as they prepared to move me to a different hospital. I couldn't stay in the emergency room forever, and there weren't any "psychiatric beds" available in the current hospital's network of facilities. Nick had gone home to shower and be with the kids for a bit while his mom, Deanna, stayed with me. I remember her trying to stall the ambulance because Nick was on his way back to the hospital and wanted to be with me in the ambulance for the ride to the new hospital. I remember yelling at Deanna, "I need to hold your hand!" I thought I had failed my test here in this life and was going to hell to pay for my sins. Nick arrived just as they were finishing up the last bit of paperwork for my transfer.

When we arrived at the mental hospital, I remember Nick being very upset and doing everything he could to stay with me. I found out later that they hadn't told Nick the details of where they were taking me, and that he didn't know until we arrived that he wouldn't be able to stay with me. He had been with me every step of the way, and was extremely upset about them taking me away from him. At the mental hospital, I would only be able to have visitors for one hour a day during a specified visitation period.

The next thing I remember was that I was in a dark room with someone next to me. She was an older woman, and I thought that she was an older version of myself. It was as if I was seeing the version of myself that had grown old in hell paying for my sins. In reality, she was just another patient, my roommate, in the mental hospital.

One of the patients in the room next to mine was a man who kept yelling the F word. I picked that habit up from him while I was there, and later on I would say, "F! Nick, I think I messed up"—again referring to my belief that I was in hell and that I hadn't asked forgiveness for my sins—over and over again.

I stopped eating and drinking. My thinking was that not eating would somehow help me get out of hell sooner. I got really dehydrated and I remember throwing up a couple of times. Oh, and I was wearing diapers and my poor husband had to change my diaper at one point! Don't worry, we can laugh about it now, but that's how bad it got! Aside from the crazy thoughts going through my head,  I've been told it really was like hell for me in there.

There was also a worker in the hospital that was wearing all black, had most of his head shaved except for a mohawk, wore big gauges in his ears, and had a mustache that curled at the ends. I thought he was Satan and dressed all in black, but I also remember calling him Nick because I desperately wanted to see Nick. Later, when Nick was wearing a black shirt, I called him Satan! (I came to find out later that the worker was actually a really nice guy who helped Nick and my mom get all of my belongings back from the mental hospital when I was transferred to the third hospital.)

Next, I remember waking up in a brighter and happier place. Apparently I needed an IV because I had stopped eating and drinking, so they transferred me to the emergency room at St. Vincent Medical Center. Once they got some fluids in me, I was able to start eating again, and they transferred me up to the joint medical-psychiatric unit.

I still wasn't eating a ton, I still needed help going to the bathroom, and was still having all kinds of strange thoughts. I remember really wanting a piece of chocolate cake, singing at the top of my lungs, and screaming something about "fuzzy horses." And, of course, there was still, "F! Nick, I think I messed up." At this point it seemed like I was in the Telestial Kingdom. (Again, I'm Mormon, in case you are wondering what I'm talking about.)

In general, I was a lot happier at St. Vincent than I was in the mental hospital, but I was still acting rather strange due to the psychosis and the medication, Haldol, they had me on. I remember liking this one nurse with a bunch of tattoos who was really happy and caring. I kept calling people by the wrong name, or taking their hospital badges and trying to read their names. There wasn't much I could do besides sleep, because I couldn't read or watch TV without my head feeling like it was spinning.

At some point, Nick brought Kenzie and Benson to visit me! And my sister Melissa was there, too! And although that made me happy, I still wasn't "100 percent"—a phrase I kept repeating—happy. I thought, "Why is my family visiting me, but not staying with me?" Kenzie and Benson (my five year old and my two year old) had drawn pictures for me and put them on the whiteboard for me to see as I laid in my hospital bed. Kenzie had drawn our family with a cloud and rain coming down (because we live in Oregon and it rains a lot). But the think I kept noticing was a line above one of the stick figures she had drawn, and for some reason I thought it meant something terrible had happened—that I had hurt or killed one of my children. I wasn't having thoughts of hurting anyone, but I feared that I had done something unthinkable when I wasn't myself.

Emery wasn't there at the first visit from the kids, which really made me think something had happened. I asked Melissa if I had hurt Emery and if she was dead. She reassured me that I had not, but I was not entirely convinced because she wasn't there.

They brought Emery the next time the kids came to visit, and I was in heaven when I snuggled her. I had missed her soooo much. But I wasn't functioning well enough to take care of her, or anybody—not even myself. I needed coaching to continue eating, drinking, going to the bathroom, showering, brushing my teeth, and doing even the most basic things. I was also trying to hide my medicine because I thought it was being used to keep me in the Telestial world, when all I wanted was to go home to be with my family in the Celestial world. 

part 3