CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

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AFTER
Cordelia Waters
June 12, 2016

I sit on the park bench and sip my coffee, watching as Ainsley pushes Emerald around in her stroller. It's a beautiful day; sun shining, not a cloud in the sky. The forecast was showing rain all week, yet all we've had is sun. Funny how things work out.

It's been three weeks since Emerald was taken and returned to me. Three weeks since the most stressful ordeal of my life. Those three days were such a roller coaster. From initially being blamed for the act, to having the suspicion switch to Weston, both of us went through so much. But they found her. They found my baby and brought her home, alive and well.

June sixteenth would have been mine and Weston's four-year anniversary. I can't say that I'm even remotely close to getting over what happened last month, but I'm getting there. The wound is still open and stings quite a bit. But even I know that all wounds heal eventually.

It's taken me a long time to come to grips with this reality. I couldn't understand how my husband could be responsibility for such a horrific incident in our lives. But he was. He is. I need to keep reminding myself of that. Because there are days when I miss him. There are nights when I lie in bed alone, tossing and turning because of his absence. And it is in those times that I want to forgive him; reach out and tell him to be there with me. But I can't do that. Because what he did is unforgivable. I need to learn to move on from this.

Other than that, life has reverted back to normal for me. I told my boss that I need to spend more time with Emerald, so until further notice, I'm only working three days a week. This allows me to be the mother that I should have been six months ago. I wasn't in my right state of mind then, and it's taken a lot – going through hell and back – to finally make me realize what she's worth. I never want to lose her again. I will never take her cries for granted again. Waking up in the middle of the night to rock her back to sleep only seems like a fair price for having her in my arms again.

Although I truly and honestly felt that I was stable again, Doctor Wyatt obviously had some concerns. She had me speak to another psychologist who deals with childhood trauma. We re-visited the issue of Samuel and how I needed to come to terms with this reality. In all honesty, I remembered bits and pieces from that year, but not much. I remembered Samuel. I remembered hanging out with him and the other children on my street. But even when my parents told me about the horrible things they uncovered from that year, I still have no recollection of it. As though my mind managed to completely block it out. I guess it's all for the better, then.

Since there are no medications to help with dissociative amnesia, the best remedies are to learn to cope and deal with stress, and also to talk with someone on a regular basis. That is why I'm now seeing Doctor Nash once a week – to ensure that I keep my life on track and never have a dissociative episode again.

I've been trying to get involved in the community more. I'm working on organizing a fundraiser for this July. It's a benefit to raise money and awareness for postpartum psychosis. No one should have to go through what I went through. And although there is no prevention for the illness, there are many remedies that can aid in one's recovery. That is why I'm hosting the benefit. More people need to be aware of this sort of thing. If you ask somebody on the street what postpartum psychosis is, they'll think you mean postpartum depression. But there's a difference. And that difference needs to be established.

Gerard's been helping me with it, gathering information and research on the subject. He's even helping with the venue. Something tells me that he's just as passionate about this topic as I am. He doesn't want to see anyone suffer from this either. There are remedies out there: medicine and therapies that can help combat the psychosis. And I want to offer myself to any woman out there suffering. I want them to know that I went through this. I suffered. But I also beat it. I worked so hard every single day until I was better again. I want to be that hope for people. The light at the end of the tunnel. If I can survive it, so can they.

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