Petals. Marti Eicholz
enjoy meeting a stranger I already knew.’
Overwhelmed with love and excitement, Adam whispered, “Mary, for months everywhere you went this little guy tagged along. He is your buddy. You already ‘know’ each other.”
Adam, admiring his son continued, “It’s so great to meet you. I will be here for you forever. Mary, let us name him Scott.”
Mary retorted with, “Scott is fine. Scotty is better.” She turned over and fell asleep. The birth certificate read Scott Miller. Everyone called the little one Scotty.
Adam and Mary went through pregnancy, labor, and delivery. The birth triggered a jumble of powerful emotions, from excitement and joy to fear and anxiety. Now they were ready to go home with their new baby. It was exciting yet, scary.
Fixing her gaze on her newborn, she glanced at Adam, “He looks so fragile.” As she tried to cradle him, Mary felt intimidated.
Nervous, she stared thinking newborns have many needs, like the proper way to handle him, soothing, bathing, feeding, burping, and diaper changing. The scariest are the circumcision and umbilical cord. How do I care for these? I do not understand what to do.
Unhappy and terrified, Mary cried out, “I’ve made a mistake.” Her thoughts of ‘mistake’ and ‘what have I done?’ got worse before they got better. She wondered how she could get her old life back.
In the quietest of voices, she muttered, ‘I need a few minutes for myself.’ Turning and hiding her face into her pillow she rested.
Before leaving the hospital, the nurses were a great help to show Mary how to hold, burp, change, and care for her baby. Adam talked with the doctor and together they found a responsible neighborhood teen to help for a time after the birth.
Mindy’s mom was a nurse and Mindy were the oldest of four. She was cute with a great love for babies. Mindy talked to Scotty. The little one found her voice calming. He would make sounds and Mindy would answer, making for quite a conversation. Mindy read to the baby to help him develop and understand sounds and words. Mindy had a love for music so, she sang songs and played music to help Scotty’s brain develop a love for music too.
Mary was never a fashionista but began to favor sweatshirts and T-shirts a rather frumpy look for her.
Mindy encouraged Mary to take care of herself. She knew if Mary felt good about herself, she would be a better parent, loving and positive. Mary spent most of her time working on her sewing projects. Several times Mindy found Mary huddled over her sewing machine sobbing. Other times Mary would withdraw and sleep. Mindy had limited interaction with Mary during these periods. There was a time she cranked up the music, sang and danced---then, on another occasion she ran around the house naked.
One day she confessed to Mindy, “You are a good mother to my son. I will never be a good mother. I am unprepared. In fact, I am afraid I will hurt him.”
Mindy had no response. The next time Mindy saw Adam she conveyed her concerns. 'I don’t think Mary is bonding with Scotty. She withdraws, does not eat, and seems angry most of the time. I see her trails. In my mind I refer to them as 'the roller coaster.' I feel her sadness. She is not thinking. I think Sam will notice it in her work. I do not know how to take her pain away, so my strategy is to ignore her depressive or manic episodes and that is not good. No one should ignore her pain. I am fearful she could also be emotionally and physically abusive.'
Adam was grateful sighting, “Mindy, I am proud of your courage to share your insights. You are good for Scotty.”
“Mr. Miller, I am leaving for the university soon. You will need to find my replacement. I love Scotty and will miss him.” At that moment Adam felt like his world and Scotty’s world was coming to an end.
Adam talked with Mary about getting a larger living space. “Mary, I think it is time we find another place to live, a place of our own. We need a fresh place with a special room for your projects, a play space for Scotty, and I could use a private zone.”
For a moment, Mary was ecstatic then, restlessness set in. It seemed like a huge dark cloud overwhelmed her with worry thoughts, anxiety, and reduced concentration. Confused, she dropped to her feet and wept.
Adam knew it was time to see their doctor. After a thorough examination and a series of assessments, the medical staff determined that Mary had a bipolar disorder, a psychiatric condition that can disrupt a person’s life and ability to function.
The soft-spoken doctor explained, “Mary, we can manage your symptoms. This disorder distorts your view of yourself and the world. The right medications can be like a pair of eyeglasses, helping you to see things again.”
To not rush, the doctor paused and then continued, “Medications and psychotherapy are an essential part of treatment. They will not cure you, but they will help you keep your moods in balance so you can do the things you need and want to do. You can lead a normal and fulfilled life.” This was very painful to hear.
Its horrified Mary to think of herself as mentally ill. She needed to seek Adam’s love and support for this scary illness, “Adam, I have a disease that is both misunderstood and stigmatized. It is like a life sentence. I’m relieved to discover the cause of my bizarre behavior yet; I don’t understand it.”
Adam held her tight assuring, “Mary, having a mental illness is just as having heart disease or any other health condition. It is not anything to be ashamed of. The more we talk about it; the more people will get the help they need for loved ones or themselves.” Adam turned to a crying Scotty.
With the doctor’s expertise and the combination of medications, they saw improvement. Mary returned to psychotherapy, feeling ashamed. She so hated to relive the terrible times in her mind. During therapy Mary often remembered the family enjoying having someone to help them talk through their hurt and sad times instead of letting it fester, only to explode later. But there was always something glossed over, swept under the rug, or buried. Many of her appointments were crying sessions.
Mary had maxed out the charge cards with impulse purchases month after month. Adam was now juggling the tight budget to afford Mary’s weekly therapy appointments and her buffet spread of pills. He never once complained, but it was still a bumpy, painful road.
Adam plugged away thinking and planning on moving to a larger space. He felt it would give new energy and anticipation that would give a spark to their lives.
His dream place was to live in a detached house surrounded by a big garden full of flowers and trees. Their present place was an apartment with blocks of other apartments and a few rude neighbors making a noise in the middle of the night.
After a night of ruckus in the neighborhood, Adam announced, 'Mary, it is time we find new living quarters. The noise, chaos and air pollution bring on negative feelings. We need to live in a place close to the serenity of nature; our minds, bodies and spirits will fill with positive energies.
Mary interrupted, 'You must think the places we spend our life affects our moods.'
“Yes, you got it! So, let us look for a place with flowers, trees, and birds. It will be good for all of us. Scotty will love romping outdoors,” Adam showing enthusiasm.
There present location offered several opportunities. Geographically, it was a rather unusual part of the country. Center was a growing city with four smaller communities one in each direction. These small peaceful towns were like any other small-town America nestled in the countryside; everybody knows your name and remembers. Each has a square and in the middle is the courthouse, the place where the old-timers gather and talk about times gone by. The area at large had a special feature, its privately-owned transit service. A contractor provided the city and the smaller communities with a convenient and affordable transportation whether for goods or people.
Mary remained deep in thought this apartment is shoulder to shoulder with all the others as if welded at birth. It knows the rain and sunshine as the same. It stands firm against the wind yet lets in brilliant light even as it blows. These walls hear my pain, my silent screams, and the shrill ones. They hear my