PTSD is real...and you don't have to go to war to have it

Jason and I, Sophia and Max were eating lunch at a restaurant a while back. We were near the kitchen. The kitchen timer sounded like one of Sophia's machines. In particular her machine that beeps loudly enough to startle a person, when her O-Sat or HR drop. And then I have to do something about it. I have to save her life. Throw on the oxygen, stimulate her chest, try to rouse her, suck the vomit out of her airway, administer seizure medication....I lost track of the number of times a long way back.
 But now I'm in a restaurant. And every time someone's food is done, my blood pressure goes through the roof. It is disorienting when the adrenaline kicks in, when there is in fact, nothing wrong. And it's embarrassing if other people notice. The nurses and social workers in the NICU warned me to watch for this. I think I have PTSD and I'm glad I'm noticing. I am scheduling therapy as soon as I can. If you are in a traumatic situation like me, it's ok to take care of yourself. There's nothing wrong with a little therapy, heaven knows we're not strangers to it ;-)

Sophia today...