The ambulance ride seemed so fast. The driver and the guy in the back were really nice. They played 94.9 and we talked the entire way. I remember thinking how I didn't want them to think I was crazy or pass judgment on me. I was extremely scared about where I was going but I hoped they would help me feel better.
We arrived they wheeled me in, I got off the gurney, they left and it was just the intake coordinator any myself. I signed so much paperwork to this day I have no idea what I signed. They offered me dinner which I never touched, checked my belongings in, and put a new bracelet on me. They showed me around the facility which seemed to huge that night. They walked me to my room and I saw my roommate was already asleep.
I asked for something to help me sleep and they gave me something. I called my mom and Roberto and said goodnight. Went back to my room and tried to lay down. My mind kept racing... I was wondering how my baby was, I was telling myself what a horrible mother I was, and my mind was telling me I'd never get better. I was also curious who my roommate was and why she was there. Finally at I don't know what time I was able to fall asleep.
I woke up the next morning feeling as though I never slept. This part of my life seems like a complete blur so some parts might be left out. I met with a doctor who recommended me to switch taking my meds from evening to morning and also increased my zoloft from 50mg to 100 mg , gave me trazadone for sleep, and xanax for anxiety. I was scared of this place but at the same time felt same. I knew these people wouldn't let me hurt myself or anyone else.
My mom and Roberto visited me every day. They even brought Johnny to visit me which made me happy. The first time they brought him I was scared. I didn't want to have those thoughts and feelings about him all I wanted to do was love him. I cried and cried all the time at the hospital I missed Johnny so much and just wanted to get better. I had no idea until I arrived there and the doctor told me I was depressed that I was.
My room was cold and empty. It had big windows that looked out onto the street, two beds with plastic mattresses, two blankets and two pillows. Each room in the hospital had a bathroom. The door to the bathroom was a swinging plastic door that had a gap at the bottom and the top. You never got privacy. The bathroom was similar to something you'd find in a jail cell. A metal toilet, sink, and a shower that you pushed a button for to turn on. the water was luke warm and turned off after thirty seconds. You continuously had to push the button for it to come back on. That was it that was the extent of our room.
The days and nights went by so quick! I was glad because I knew each day I would feel better. My second roommate was an awesome lady. She was in and out very quick and I wished she never left. The third roommate I got was seeing and hearing things and would stand in the corner talking to her self. This scared me. On the floor we also had a women who had Alzheimer’s and in the middle of the night she came in bed with me. It scared the crap out of me, but I knew she was harmless. She had been in other peoples rooms plenty of times and put on their clothing. I met some very nice people and some people that had lots of challenges while in Santa Clara. For example the man with blue hair who wanted to know where the swimming pool was.
I had visited my father at several facilities and this by far was the best one. We had cable tv, the facility was new, we had access to the internet, and we got to pick the foods we wanted each day. The food was actually really good. I noticed I was starting to have a glimpse of feeling better when I started to sleep and feel rested, be able to eat, and my mind wasn't racing so fast.
Roberto was starting to miss me and was putting pressure on me to come home. At one point he even threatened to leave me and take Johnny from me. I knew I was a horrible mother and that they both deserved better... I cried and cried scared that I would be left alone. Roberto eventually calmed down and admitted he was just lonely and wanted me home. I wanted to be home too but I wanted to be better even more. I felt like I had taken three steps back that day.
The social worker sat down with Roberto and I and gave him some info on PPD. I wished she had talked to us more. Just to get Roberto to stop being mad I promised him I'd go home on Friday. When he came that Friday and found out I wouldn’t be going home he was furious with me. Again he told me he was going to take Johnny from me. I held my son and tried not to cry while the women monitored our visit. To this day it still hurts me. Roberto left with Johnny and I went back to my room not knowing if or when I'd see the two of them again.
