I was told to sit in what I learned was the dining room of Psych. I was alone, in my hospital scrubs, and waiting. It felt like forever but I am sure it was only a few minutes before the nurse came to get me to show me to my room. As I sat there and looked around I was watching people play board games, walk the hall on the phone, and some just staring off into space. "What am I doing here with these people" I thought to myself. (Little did I know that by the end of the week "these people" were going to be my saving grace)

I was showed to my room. I was a lucky one, I got a private room. Honestly, I do not know how I would of got through the week if I had to share a room. What was the room like? It was that....a room. I had a bed (the wooden kind like in holding), a blue plastic chair in the corner....and that was it. I had my own bathroom but had to share the shower. (there is a story coming a long with this....)

I was showed the TV room. There were no TV's or anything in the rooms. I was told this was because they did not want us hiding out in our rooms. Part of the process was to talk to others and interact with others. The TV room was also where group was held at least 3 times a day. There were comfy chairs, and also books. As soon as I sat down in the TV room all by myself there was an older lady quick to talk to me and fill me in on some things around the 'ward.

*I am not going to name names, but I made up nick names for people while I sat back and observed....and I did a lot of observing*

"Norma" was a nice lady. She went over the rules they had and some information about the staff and patients. I talked to her a lot. I usually talked to her after dinner and before our last group of the day. 

I had dinner that first night and then went back to my room. It was way in the back in the corner. I liked my room there, well until the next morning....but that story is coming. The last group of the evening was at 7:15 pm. The therapist that ran this group was my game changer. His groups were amazing and made me think. My first group of his, was the one that touched me and I knew that I had made the right decision. What did he say? I will write about that soon. 

After a good cry in group, from the amazing therapist we had snack, then took our night meds and I went to bed......it was quiet.....and I knew the next day was going to knock reality in my face. It was also the first night I had away from my husband, kids, and pets. It was going to be a hard night sleep, but I knew I must get through it. I fell asleep.

.....................then I woke up the next morning..........to the smell of Urine..........

Monday September 26th, 2016 I woke up not knowing it was going to be the first day of the rest of my life.

I woke up as usual and got Xavier onto the bus. I poured myself a cup of hot coffee and sat on my couch. All I remember was a TV commercial came on my TV and reminded me of the financial difficulties I got my family into, and that is when it started. My whole body started to shake; my heart started racing, and my breathing became difficult. That is when the crying started. I got myself into the shower, thinking that would help calm me down. This was not the first "anxiety attack" that I have had, but this was the first one that I couldn't control. Even being in the warm shower, I was still crying and struggling to breathe. I didn't know what was happening. That is when I got out and told Andrew to help me pack the kids bags, I knew I needed to go to the hospital, and I knew that I was not going to come home. I called my parents and told them I needed their help with the kids; there was no way I could take care of them with the way I was feeling. That is when my life changed.

I got to the local emergency room and was brought right back to be checked. By that time I was talking in a fast manner, and I couldn't comprehend to myself what I was saying. I told Andrew to go home and get ready for work. I knew if he was there I wasn't going to be able to be completely honest with how I was feeling to the doctors. I was embarrassed by everything going on and was even embarrassed to explain how I was feeling in front of my husband, to whom I tell everything. The emergency room staff was helpful. They helped me through everything, writing down everything I told them. That is when they said that since I said I was not comfortable to take care of my kids alone (yes... I had to admit that) the best thing that I could do for myself was to sign myself into their psych unit. It took everything I had to admit to myself that is what I needed to do, but they brought me the paperwork, and I did it, I signed my name for a 72-hour hold.

Once I signed my name, things changed...which they warned me was going to happen. At that point, I had to take all my clothes off in front of a nurse as they inventoried everything. I had to switch out of my pants; I was no longer aloud anything with strings. I was now a psych patient. They had to make sure I had nothing sharp on me and even pat me down and use a metal detector on me. That is when a nurse and two guards walked me to the psych emergency holding. There were no doors in holding and in each room only a bed. Not even a hospital bed, it was a wood bed with a mattress. I was alone and scared, but something kept telling me I needed to do this. I laid in the quiet until the doctor came in. This was when I spoke to the psych doctor for the first time. I went over everything that I was doing in my life. For the first time in years, I was 100% honest with someone. I went over everything that I was doing, including spending money that I shouldn't. That is when the red flag was raised for the doctor. I also went over with him again how I was not suicidal, but I could emphasize with people that have tried and or succeeded. I also told the doctor that I didn't feel comfortable going home and being alone taking care of my children. It wasn't in any way that I would hurt them, but I was afraid with my zoning out trying to get the constant thoughts running through my head I wouldn't be able to take proper care of them like a mother should. I was admitted.

........Little did I know, this was the best thing that I could ever do for myself.....and with that, I am going to share my week stay in the psychiatric unit......!! Letting people in on what I have been dealing with for the past 10+ years is going to be the hardest thing for me to do, but if I can help just one person, it will be all worth it.

You are not alone.

I am getting into Snap Chat, it is just a little addicting. Please add me...and then leave me your Snap Chat name in the comments. I need more mommy and daddies to follow! 

Xavier has decided he does not have one little brother, he has two.
The first one is named Zayden. Zayden is the fun loving little man that will laugh, play, and get along with everyone. Zayden will sit and watch TV, snack, and just be the best little brother in the world. Zayden will also play video games with Xavier and keep him company in his room without any complaints. Zayden is my loving, cuddling, peaceful child, until it happens....until the other side shows....dun dun dun....!!!

TODD the TODDler is the opposite of cute little Zayden. Todd is the name Xavier came up with when the little bother brother turns evil. When I say evil, I am not exaggerating. Todd shows up a few times a week and we never know when he will appear. Todd calls us all names such as "stupid" and "dummy" just to name a few. Todd has the attitude and will power of a hormonal teenager that doesn't know how to express themselves correctly. Todd is just a pure asshole. (Yes, I did just call my child an asshole...and I mean it)

Do not get me wrong, I love my child...I love both of them equally, but Todd is a pure asshole. Do not get me wrong, Xavier can be the same way....but not nearly as bad as Todd. Todd is just Todd.

Todd is such an interesting character, I am starting his own section on my blog. "Adventures with Todd". I already have so many stories, and I am sure Todd will not disappoint.....you never know, Adventures with Todd might even turn over to his own Twitter and Instagram within weeks to come.

Stay tuned and let these adventures begin.....!!!!!!!

It has taken me over a month to actually verbally use the work "miscarriage." This honestly has been one of the most trying times in my life, but I can say I am getting through it. I had to take some ME time. I had to just do what I wanted to do and just go crazy. I drank, cut my hair, and just took out time for me. Finally I can say it, and I do not need those things anymore. I am back to me, which honestly I thought I would never get back to.

Will we try again? Honestly this is an answer I do not think I will ever be able to answer. I am not going to jump my husband like a rabbit to have another baby, but I do think we will live our normal day to day lives and see what happens. I think if it is going to happen it will, but I am not going to make it happen....right now I am at a good place.

How did I get to this happy place? Honestly....it took awhile but a lot of cleaning and taking my mind off things. There are still things that will make me think of being pregnant. It isn't even the normal things, it could be a song that has nothing to do with babies but it makes me think about being pregnant. It is the oddest thing in the world. I have my days that I am down a little and I am learning that I just got to move on and keep living. It isn't fair to my kids to have me down and useless. It doesn't even make sense to be like that. I just have to keep living.

Now I have a spotless house and it honestly has my anxiety down a lot too. I am back on my regular medicines for anxiety which really help too. I make sure I do not miss a dose and I just keep moving. That is the main thing...moving. If I feel like I am going to have a bad moment I find something to do, even if it is putting clothes in the washer or cleaning the boys room. I just find something to do.

I feel like I needed the time I took to mourn, but now I feel like that is over with and I feel better. If I didn't mourn like I did I would of never been over it, but now I am. I woke up one morning and I was changed. I laid in bed and thought to myself "you have to get it  together." That is what I did.

I feel like I am back better then ever. I feel in a really good place for not only my sons but for my husband. Andrew tells me he sees a huge difference in me too. He was there for me more then he knows.

I am back.

I do not even know where to begin. My pain is more then anything. I am empty. Literally. Empty.


My uterus is empty.

Last week this time there was a baby growing inside. I posted pictures, they were playing with their toes............now.............empty.

Here is my story.....which I am officially calling "empty".

Saturday, Feb 20th I woke up to wiping a brown discharge....when I took my first morning pee. Nothing exciting, I was over 9 weeks pregnant, brown discharge was nothing. I also wrote it off as to my lovely pimples I was having down below.....lol. GIANT pimples lmao. It was okay, I knew it was okay,

I went to my mom and dad's that day, told them about the discharge but again was not worried in the least because brown discharge didn't mean anything. I knew, since having 2 pregnancies before that was a normal color you didn't have to worry about.....or at least I kept telling myself.

Remember a few weeks ago when I had my first check up I was told I was a week off...which we wrote it off as to being that I ovulated a week late......but I knew....as a mom... I KNEW...something was not correct. I just knew it. Did i say it? NO, of course not, but I knew. I want to scream it out loud now...but I knew something wasn't right!

Anyway, Sunday the 21st came.....I got a shower and went to the bathroom....when I wiped there was a clot.  Not a big clot....but a clot...and at that second I KNEW. At that second of my life I knew there was something wrong. I knew from that moment on, there was no more baby. I knew, I needed to get to the ER..........I needed the doctor to tell me there was no more heartbeat. I knew the baby was gone. From that moment, I felt empty. I knew I was empty.

To make a long story short, I was correct. Not only was a correct but my blood levels were low. Normal levels are from 12-16. My blood count was a 7.

The next day I had to receive a blood transfusion, and the next day a D&C. My baby was gone, and so was I.

Telling Xavier was the worst. I didn't realize how much he understood, but being 8 years old he knew everything. I have been honest with him through it all.

This is the hardest thing ever.

Empty is what I feel. Empty is what I am.

I will write more as time goes on....but right now.............I am empty.


Thank you cable television for this interesting question! 

Xavier: What is a yeast infection?

Me: Honestly, that is one question you really do not want me to answer....can I leave it as that?

Xavier: I guess

Me: Believe me, you will thank me when you are older and have learn about it...,just stay clueless til then.

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