Parenting with PTSD, Part 2

Click  here to read Parenting with PTSD, Part 1 to learn a little about the night that has impacted my life in this way.

In Part 1 I mention the guilt I would feel each time a new therapist diagnosed me with PTSD. Why would I feel guilty? From surviving terrorist attacks, major natural disasters such as the tsunami and Hurricane Katrina, to multiple tours in war zones, in today's post- 9/11 world, many people have seen death and evil at work firsthand in ways I cannot imagine. Am I really worthy of being in a category with them? Obviously this is a silly way of thinking and took becoming a mother to realize it.

Every parent worries about their children and will do anything in their power to protect them. However, most parents can handle these feelings in a healthy, non-obsessive way. When I became a parent to my now two year old, I became obsessed with keeping her safe. Not just when it came to car seats and germs but I obsessed over DANGER and DEATH. I was certain my precious baby girl would be lost to SIDS while I slept. So I stopped sleeping.

At thirteen years old, 6 months after "that" night, I was still sleeping with my parents and insisting they left their light on at night. The therapist I had been seeing all that time decided that it was time for a more deliberate approach to coping since talk therapy and medication was clearly not doing anything to allay my phobia. She tried a form of meditation and hypnosis. During a recorded session, we envisioned my safe place, talked about every little detail of that place. We explored possibilities vs probabilities. She reminded me throughout to take long deep breaths through my nose and out of my mouth. I took the recording home and listened to it on a Walkman (remember those??) before bed everynight. If I was still awake when the hour long tape finished, I would rewind and start over listening to myself describe details of my safe place as my therapist encouraged me to breathe and think rationally. Within a week I was sleeping on my parent's floor instead of their bed and eventually made it back to my room. I have yet to sleep easily or peacefully since that night unless it was drink/drug induced, but I did learn to sleep again.

As a first time (and again, as a second time) mom, I found myself calling on these coping mechanisms often. I adjusted the way I reared my child to help myself think rationally. I breastfed my baby to keep her as healthy as possible, slept with her so I could feel her breathing all night, wore her to make MYSELF more secure, answered her every cry so I knew she wasn't hurt. Some call this kind of parenting "attachment parenting" and while I like the concept of making your children feel secure enough with you as a home base to become independent, that wasn't the reason I decided to go down this path. In fact, I had never heard the term attachment parenting until recently.

Whatever label you want to give it, I parent this way because I am broken and breastfeeding, wearing and sleeping with my two daughters is the best form of therapy I have yet to try. I still lay awake at night reminding myself to take deep breaths and to remember probability vs possibility but I fall asleep easier listening to my little girls sleep peacefully. They know of none of the evil I have witnessed and I plan to keep it that way for as long as possible.