Having a Care Giver, and a Supporter. (Posted on August 31, 2019)

I have Dan, and he is there, even when I convince my self I don’t want him to be there. I relate to the whole cast, but the part starting at 29:50 about him being described as a caregiver, yet needing to care for himself, and her reaction is very relatable to me and Dan.

I became very I’ll during the end of my last pregnancy with our son. I had preeclampsia and gestational diabetes. I could hardly walk without my blood pressure rising and doing the most basic daily deeds was nearly impossible. It resulted in an emergency C-section, and my aftercare in the hospital was hell too. He and the parents we had selected to adopt our son were more helpful than the nurses half the time.

With my BPD and the newly developed postpartum depression, I became even more of a mess with the chronic pain from healing from a hard pregnancy and surgery. I made Dan’s life literal hell. I hurt him physically when all he wanted to do was help me. There were times cops were involved because I would scream so loudly. He would try so hard to calm me down when I would be triggered over the smallest of things. He never gave up though. He knew it wasn’t me, but my illnesses and that I needed to get the right type of help.

After one night of hell and one doctor not helping close by, he offered to walk the 20 city blocks to the nearest urgent care clinic to request new medication for my postpartum with me. We both knew I had to get something or I would both be at risk. It acts like this that remind me that he is the one that knows how much I am worth and shows it often.

I love this man, I don’t always do it properly, but I do, and if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be as far as I am now. Thank you, Dan.