General Non-Fiction posted September 18, 2016

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I was seven months pregnant and the worse happened

My depression I Endured

by Abby Wilson-hand

I was seven months pregnant and full of joy for I was having my first boy, as I already had two little girls. Ashley was eight years old at the time and Casey was seven years old. Ashley seemed down, she was always crying in pain, she could not walk very well. I had taken her to the emergency room to where the doctor says "she has growing pains make her walk"!
We had a horse farm, we would go to feed every night, she would lay on a bale of hay every time she would fall asleep and pee her pants. I certainly did feel something was wrong, but the doctor's said "make her walk"! So I did, the guilt ate at me until one day she could not take one more step.

I paniced, she was my first born my sweetie and she was getting worse. We had taken her back to the Emergency room, she could not move. The Doctor ran some blood, I saw the uneasiness on his face when he was walking towards me. I sat next to her and held her hand, for she knew something was wrong.

The Doctor says I'm sorry we missed this in the first place, I cringed at the doctor, as he says your daughter has Leukemia. We need her to go to the children's Hospital, an hour and a half away from home. They had taken her there by Ambulance, we followed in our truck, as I sit there crying so hard in the passenger seat. I could not forgive myself for making her walk. From that point on the depression sunk in me like a knife through my heart.

We had gotten up to the Hospital about the same time as the Ambulance. I had run to her holding my eight month fat belly, just wondering was I bringing another life into the world and my first born going to die. The thoughts were stuck in my head, I would have night mares of church bells ringing and walk in and see a casket in the front of a Church. To where I could not see who was in it, no matter how hard I tried to see I couldn't.

My depression ate at my heart down inside my soul, cry all day, cry myself to sleep at night, wakeup with my pillow soaked from the tears, I cried while I was sleeping, if you want to call it sleep. It was a total nightmare, my daughter was dying. As my son grew bigger in my belly. Ashley was so brave she was sick all the time, going through Chemotherapy every day, her address was the Hospital. How many eight year olds have a Hospital for an address?

My son was born" Jacob", Ashley was proud to be a big sister again, but me, I was so sad all the time, thought about ending it all. But that would have meant I was a coward. I could not let Ashley go through this alone. I would be dammed to hell if I let her go through this alone.So I lived in hell for a long time, three years of Chemotherapy, she needed my undivided attention. My attention span became real short, my legs were uncontrollable they would bounce up and down all by them selves. I developed a shake in my head of extreme anxiety and depression.

The three years went by what seemed instant, but yet so long, every day at a Hospital for three years except Saturday and Sunday's. The chemotherapy stopped. But the paranoia started, I would check for her breathing, check her temperature, wishing her hair would grow back so she could be the girl again.

The entire next year I had gone to mental health, had to be put on the mental health floor for a couple weeks and administered medication for depression and anxiety. It did seem to help for a little while we felt like a family again. But still the paranoia and depresion never went away.

Ashley was feeling pain again, I knew what it was, I was right. The cancer was back and stronger than before. We had to put her back into the Hospital for two straight months of hard core chemotherapy and added cranial radiation. My heart could not take much more the crying was back, I just loved her so much and how many people make it through two bouts of cancer and live? Not many, I stayed at the Hospital with her, she was so sick this time lost all her hair that she had grown back. She was just as depressed as I was, I didn't know how to comfort her anymore. I couldn't even comfort myself.

By this time she was eleven years old and oh so sick. Her cheeks were so big they sat on her chest the swelling was a potential danger, she was hardly awake anymore, I wanted to die just to make her better, trade my life for hers. I prayed to God, tried to make a deal with the Devil, nothing seemed to work. The doctors had said it was her time, to call everyone in she would not make it through the night. Her room was full of family, friends, and sorrow.

Everyone started to leave and it was just Ashley and I. I wanted to hold her like a baby like I did when she was little. The nurses had come in and put her limp body in my lap, I cried out to God and he wasn't listening at that moment, I sang her a song to comfort her and she was barely with me anymore , but I sang and one tear rolled down her cheek. I cried out again for God, just kept crying.

A few minutes later all her monitors went off she stopped breathing. The nurses and a doctor surrounded her bed, I couldn't see her any more. They had brought in the paddles and she didn't come back, they looked at me, asked me what I wanted them to do.I wanted to die myself, she been gone for seven minuets. I hit the floor and said please God save her, please God, give me back my little girl, in that instant she took a breath in.

Today Ashley is twenty seven years old and cancer free for almost eight years. She has three boy's of her own, in wich is a miracle all in it self. She has a magnificent lifeand a shine about her that glows, but me I still suffer from depression, anxiety, voices in my head. I have sought treatment for several years and it does help a little without the treatment plan I'm on, I would have killed myself a long time ago. For just around the corner is that little voice in my head wondering if she will get sick all over again.

My story is true and my depression is true, parents can go through so much but with help we can learn to cope with the past and every day things that come our way. Hopefully nobody will have to endure all that I have. May your families stay safe and your minds at ease. Because I know what it's like to live in partial Hell.

Deep depression and help contest entry

This is my story of battling depression.
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