I don't even really know how to begin. I wrote this post last night and all throughout it I kept thinking of Kira, my "mommy" friend. We shared such a similar traumatic birth story, she was actually the first person I reached out to when I was in ICU. Somehow it felt like déjà vu. Well it was almost like I was trapped in Kira's birth story. Turns out, we just shared a similar situation. Something that shook our cores. So as I wrote my post last night, Kira kept popping in my head and in fact I was looking forward to her reading this because I'm sure she would have had something to say. However the one night I didn't check Facebook something else was happening. Word was spreading, Kira had lost her battle to depression. She was such an inspiration to many. She always had the right thing to say, was never afraid to voice her opinion, kind, determined, tough as nails, and knew how to pick someone up when they were down. Of course she knew what it was like, she had been battling PTSD, anxiety and depression on and off. I'm pissed that someone so amazing felt that there was no remedy to her pain and that the only way to find her peace was to take her life. F*#% YOU depression! You took away someone that impacted a huge community of "internet friends." I'm saddened by thought that her 5 children lost their mother to such a silent illness. Kira, in your own words, you were formidable as fuck. I hope that you are free of pain and that you have found your peace wherever you may be. You will be missed.
Kira Martin 1982-2015
Now here is what I had written last night:
With Z's 2nd birthday coming up I'm beginning to feel a little anxiety. The thought of her turning two not only makes me feel amazed at how fast time has gone by but it also brings up a huge emotional whirlwind for me. Some of you may know my dramatic birth story and nearly two years later my family still tenses up thinking of that Tuesday morning of September 10, 2013 where things became uncertain really fast and what should have been a very joyful moment turned into something really scary.... Well let me say that it took me a long time to look at newborn pics of Z and not cry. It took me a long time to understand the complexity of what had happened to my body. It took me a long time to accept and love all the extra scars I have on my body including the one that served as a door for my Z leave one world and enter another one. I often would find myself taking a shower and running my fingers across my c-section scar and crying because of all the things that looking and touching that scar reminded me of. Despite the fact that I have a thorough appreciation for my 3rd chance at life. Yes, you read correctly 3rd. My second one was back in May '09 when I totaled my little Scion tC going 70 miles an hour on I95 and walked away with only slight bruising and some serious seat belt burn rash. Anyway, I still struggle from time to time with my emotional scar of Z's birth. Whenever my FB newsfeed pops up yet another story about a c-section or some traumatic birth story my eyes well up, the hairs on my body crawl, my stomach twists into knots and my brain just automatically replays everything. Every single detail I can recall from that week in the hospital. I try not to look my scars anymore, yet they are ever so present, tiny little white scars on my wrists, my collarbone, and my forearm. All little reminders of the very same week I wish wouldn't make me feel so much sadness and emotional pain. I like to believe that I have healed and for the most part I have, but when the thoughts strike up it sucks. I wish I could take away all the crazy and uncertainty my family had to live through. I wish I could have had those first 3 days with my Z. I wish things had been different. Yet I know that I can't change any of that. I do, however hope that eventually my emotional scar fades and that when future September 10th's roll around I can just look at my sweet Z and celebrate her birthday without having to think of all the extra mess.
-A.
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