Nick had no idea I was at the hospital. Nick couldn't handle watching the baby so he left the baby with his mom. She even started sending me mean text messages.
“If Nick keeps the baby Friday, you need to get him Saturday. You need to take responsibility of your child. I’m going to have a talk with you.”
She made me feel worse then I already felt. I cried to hard the nurse came in my room to check up on me. I showed her the text message and she gave me lots of sympathy and then told me to cut off my phone.
A doctor came in and told me everything would be alright. He told me that Postpartum Depression is nothing to be ashamed of. People will try to tell you to snap of it, or to stop moping around. People don’t understand it.
After our long talk I was told I would be going to Baptist Behavior Health. I was so afraid. I thought I was going to one of those white rooms with padded walls that you see on the movies. I arrived there, and to my surprise, everyone there was normal. It was very nice and clean, and I had room on the river with a very nice view.
People were playing cards or watching Housewives of Atlanta. Three people told me they were faking being stressed out because it was such a nice place. So whenever a nurse passed them, they would try to appear sad. The food wasn’t bad either. I got all the rest I needed. The nurses kept trying to offer me anti-depressants. I wouldn’t take them for personal reasons.
I spent 7 days there. The first three days, I slept for about 20 hours a day. I only woke up to eat. (The doctors record how often you sleep.) The last 4 days, I didn’t sleep during the day and spent my time talking to the other patients or working out. The people there were funny, caring, and great.
While I was resting Nick had to watch his own baby. Nick would call me while I was in the hospital. I heard the baby yelling in the background. Nick had to wake up every two hours to feed the baby, and he had to go to work. Nick was finally getting a taste of his own medicine. He came to the hospital apologizing for not helping me. He apologized for all those things he said to me. He even went as far as booking a dinner and a nice hotel room in a very upscale restaurant in St. Augustine.
From this point things did start to get better for me. I will write more about how God helped me in part three.
I also want to thank Bryanna Davis and Makita Hunt. They were the ONLY people that ever helped me. Makita was the only person who watched him while I went to work. And Bry helped me as much as she could. She would get him on the weekends for me and come to my house and spend the night to help me.
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