Little Boy at Childrens Hospital:

I dont remember when my postpartum depression was over. I only know that it took my mom, dad, grandma, kids, husband, a lot of work to get me well. My family hid anything negative from me. Gossip about me was handled without me knowing. Everyone was very careful around me so that I didn't get upset. Which is sad for them. Until one day when my husband, who doesn't ever say much, said you know this illness isn't just hard on you, its hard on all of us. I hated him for that. then. He was right, but the problem is we know how we are affecting people, family, kids, everything. That's one of the things that makes it even harder to get well. Your so full of guilt.

This is the time in my life when i learned that you do what you have to do. Especially when it comes to your kids. My little one started breaking out in a rash. At first the doctors thought it was the milk, she was still on formula. It started when I was at my moms.

Then the doctors said it was eczema. It kept getting worse. She looked like we had put her in a tub of boiling water. I bet we saw20 doctors. It was eczema. Finally went to childrens. At first they said eczema, gave us cream, meds. God this was horrible. She started losing her hair and was such a good little baby. She would get infections constantly and i would drive her an hour away at two and three in the morning for medical help. Children's hospital did a biopsy and she didn't even cry. We had to put her into bath, put wet pj's on her and then dry ones over them. And she would sleep like that every night. Well come to find out she had a rare psoriasis which meant that all of the advice, like keep her out of the sun. Was the exact opposite of what we should have been doing for the last year. More meds. more steroid cream. She could not take Tylenol or it would overload her liver? I think it was her liver. Anyway i was at the hospital and she had a fever and infections from her skin. I was watching the nurse and she was about to give her Tylenol. It is like slow motion, I literally flew over the bed and knocked it away from my babies mouth. I was seriously at the end of my rope. What was all of this doing? She was getting worse. And I had a hatred for most people which just isn't like me. They wouldn't talk to her, tried not to look at her, she had no friends. She was treated bad and you don't treat my kid bad. I became a bitch.

Which brings me to my title: We took her to children's hospital to get her biopsy and there were about 5 little kids in there. All of them were kinda backward. I could see that they all had different types of skin conditions. I sat down to play with my daughter and this little boy walked up slowly, I said hi, do you want to play with us? He shook his head yes and we played until they called us in. The thing they used to test her skin reminded me of a lighter in your car. Thats what it looked like to me. They probably made it numb, I cant remember. I just remember them putting it on her are and twisting. She still has a scar on her arm. Her skin looked burnt, welted, red, the sores would start little then just grow into eachother. She said she didnt feel it, she was about 1 or two by this time. It was gut wrenching to watch, its almost worse when they don't cry. Like I'm used to pain, what is there to cry about. Kids are so strong. And I've learned allot from her. Thank God it was a skin condition and not cancer. And God Bless every child and family who has an ill child.

When we were leaving I noticed the little boy and waved at him, his mom came over to me and kinda pulled me aside. She said "Thank you for talking to my little boy, its been a long time since someone has played and talked to him." What a shame that people are so mean. Trust me it could be your kid. I thought that was so sad.

I was brushing her hair one night and a clump came out. I just remember grabbing all of the meds, creams, everything, and throwing them away. The next day, she got into the bathroom cabinet, I went in there and she had all of this stuff rubbed all over her. I looked to see what it was. It was bag balm. She said "Mommy this feels good". So for the next week I smothered it in her from head to toe, even in her hair. We laid, that's all she could really do, and we watched "The Green Mile," and "How the Grinch stole Christmas" probably a hundred times. Guess what if you don't believe in miracles. Her skin was healed in one week. Bag Balm, and she found it. We still put it on her like once a month and she is 9. God what a miracle. You would never know she looked so bad. She was better, I was better. We were better. And what a blessing to have a healthy kid. She did get asthma out of the deal. They go hand in hand. She takes medicine for it but is a happy little girl and such a blessing in my life.

Next post will be BACK IN BED; MORE DAMN PROBLEMS; MORE SURGERIES; BLOOD CLOTS; TEN MINUTES TO LIVE