From Hell to Rebirth by Michelle L. Potter

Author:Michelle L. Potter [Potter, Michelle L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781982256104
Publisher: Balboa Press
Published: 2020-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

My two babies are complete miracles from God and the greatest joys of my life. But they entered this world barely thriving—and I was hardly in a condition to parent them. Both nearly died in the womb and outside of it. They were often sick when they were infants; my youngest was in the doctor’s office weekly, trying out different antibiotics to see what would work. I had no idea of the immensity of what could come as a result of my actions and choices or the size of the emotional wounds that they would inherit. I believe that my emotional state passed through the placenta, and my babies were receiving emotions they didn’t ask for. It was something I carried a lot of guilt for, blaming myself for their difficulties coming into this world and even developmental challenges for a long time.

I was in bad shape. The two traumatic pregnancies I’d endured ignited a war in my body that would take over a decade to unravel and disarm. In the meantime, I couldn’t take care of myself, much less take care of two innocent and precious gifts from God. The only way I knew how to deal with my overwhelming feelings was to avoid what I was feeling, avoid my pain, and avoid my self-hatred and feelings of powerlessness. I sought help in medications but found little solace. Sometimes I would cry and beat myself up, feeling like I had abandoned all three of them—the children plus Steve. Due to the emotional chaos that they inherited from me, I felt that I had neglected the children before I was able to hold them. And as for Steve, he had been left with the burden of taking care of the kids while trying to deal with his completely out-of-control wife at the same time.

And so began a downward spiral I wouldn’t recover from for many years. The depression was unruly. When Kylie was about five years old, she would sometimes come into my room and open the blinds to tell me it was time to get out of bed because the sun was smiling. But all I wanted to do was pull the comforter over my head and wait for her to leave. I could barely lift my head off the pillow, much less get out of bed or put one foot in front of the other to begin my day. My kids were aware that something was going on.

One minute, I wanted to die—then I would change my mind. I had some severe pain in my spine that no one could explain yet, and it could be so intense that I just wanted to pull all my hair out and scream because it is so unbearable. Sometimes all I could do was sit on the floor, my hair teased and out of control, mascara running down my face. My emotions battled each other. Hope was a distant island. Other times, I’d curl up in a fetal position in the closet and rock back and forth.

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