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Why didn’t I hire more nanny care?

Simply put, I didn’t know how sick I was or how much help I needed.  When I left the hospital the discharge nurse only said, “I hope that you have plenty of help.”  When I asked at the OB’s office about help, the office manager said that all their patients have family to help and they couldn’t recommend a service.  At any rate, I did use a service and hired nannies.  However, it is very hard to find good care and since I had multiples it was even harder to find a nanny who could care for both babies.  Often I would take care of one baby and the nanny would care for the other baby.  The first two weeks home, I had a nanny from 7 am in the morning until 6 pm at night.  I had help at night the first two weeks.  A friend stayed overnight.  However, I was up most of the night.  When the nanny came in at 7 am she would bring the babies downstairs to the bassinets set up in the family room and would sleep until about 10 am.  Looking back on this I realize disrupting my sleep pattern so severely did not allow me to recover.  Rather, I began to deteriorate further.  I have since learned that one needs at least 5 hours of continuous sleep for restorative sleep.  Once I was home with the babies, I never received any kind of meaningful continuous sleep. 

The third week home, I hired two nannies, a day nanny for 5 hours, from 11 am until 4 pm, and a night nanny from 9 pm until 6 am.  I wish the night nanny had been someone that I had confidence in because this is what I truly needed, someone to let me return to a normal sleep pattern so that I had a chance to rest and heal.  However, it was clear that this nanny wanted to sleep at night, too.  I would wake up in the middle of the night and check on the babies.  One time I found Holly lying in her spit up and I was afraid she would choke.  One morning, when this nanny left, I asked if she was going home to sleep and she said, “No, that she had a lot to do but would be back that night”.  I was afraid that if she didn’t sleep during the day that she might drop one of the babies, so I didn’t have her come back the 4th week.  The 4th week, help was promised from people I thought I could count on, but they cancelled at the last minute.  By this time, I was unable to think clearly, and was discouraged with the failed attempts to find good childcare, so I tried to care for the babies alone for about 5 days.  The lack of sleep during this time really had an impact on my ability to function.  My cognitive abilities were quickly declining and I was exhausted.  Next, I hired a college student recommended by neighbors.   Lisa came and helped me from about 9 am until 4 pm or 5 pm.  However, I was still handling the night shift and because I was accustomed to being up during the day, I would attempt to help Lisa during the day.  I was hyper-vigilant about the care of the babies and was hesitant to leave them alone.  One of the experts at trial called this a false belief but said it is common for new mothers especially those of premature babies.

I was too sick with hyperemesis during the last 6 months of the pregnancy to think much beyond the next day.   Most of my concern was carrying the twins as long as possible, preventing preterm labor, and when to run the pump for the intravenous nutrition.  The noise of the pump was very disturbing.  I gave up running it at night since I could not sleep.  If I turned over the line would kink and the alarm would go off.  So I ran it during the day, the hours seemed endless.  The pump ran eight to twelve hours a day.  I was just trying to survive until the c-section at week 37. 

Why did I go back to attorney Michael Shorstein’s office on Tuesday, August 16th, after the horrible, horrible events of Saturday, August 13th?

The answer is that I do not know.  The experts understand this since they understand brain function under the conditions of malnutrition, severe post partum depression, sleep deprivation and recovery from a c-section and hyperemesis gravidarum.  The ob who testified at trial said that I was in very poor condition when I went into surgery for the c-section but it was inevitable since the babies had to be delivered.  He said that I needed at least 3 months to recover, not the usual 8 weeks that a healthy woman would require from the c-section delivery of a singleton.    No one told me this.  I did not know how sick I was. 

When I was brought home on Saturday after 11 hours of confusion, fear, and anxiety, I was in need of care.  It was obvious that I needed treatment for severe post partum depression since on Saturday I said that I would commit suicide if they took my babies.  I exhibited signs of confusion and disorientation.  I said over and over again that I just wanted to go home and go to sleep.  I said over and over again that I couldn’t think and that my brain wouldn’t work. 

This was so true.  I had never experienced this before.  I had always been able to problem solve.  My brain had always been able to think things through.  I had always been able to identify danger and protect myself.  This time my ability to analyze the situation and to call for help and to leave was not with me.  I was just too sick and exhausted and sleep deprived.  I was alone the days of August 14th and August 15th.  No one came to see how I was or to help. 

The things that were repeatedly told to me on Saturday seemed to take root.  Their mantra that I was not strong enough to raise my children and that an open adoption whereby I would have help and be part of this family somehow took hold.  My psychiatrist told me that this phenomenon called pleasing the aggressor that is common among battered women.  It is a survival technique.  Saturday was traumatic. 

Another three days of sleep deprivation and isolation rendered me unable to think rationally and I was like a lamb being led to the slaughter.  I should have received care, medical care and support; instead I was taken to an attorney’s office.  In my confusion and sleep deprived state, I agreed to be taken to the office, but it was clear to those who were not sick that if I was too sick to even drive myself, I was certainly in no condition to be there with legal papers in front of me. 

Severe postpartum depression, sleep deprivation, major surgery, anemia, severe hypothyroidism, and the care of two premature babies had left me in a state that I had never anticipated or experienced before.  I was unable to self diagnosis how sick and disoriented I was and there was no one who took the initiative to arrange for the services that I clearly needed.  This is the job of the social worker who is required by Florida statue to assure that only healthy, capable and competent people sign legal papers.  It is also the duty of the notaries.  However, in my case all the safeguards failed.

How did this whole notion of adoption even get started?

Honestly, the idea of traditional, closed adoption was never, ever an option.  What was always presented to me was this idea of a fully open adoption whereby I would always be the mother and always see my children.  It was presented and described as a co-parenting type arrangement.  I was too sick to see that this was nothing but fraud and an attempt to lure me into an arrangement that was not in my best interest.   

At about 28 weeks pregnant, a few weeks before the PICC line was inserted, I was given a medication called Reglan.  I was never told that this is a dangerous medicine and causes severe anxiety and panic attacks.  I didn’t know this.  I had those panic attacks.  I thought it was caused by the twin pregnancy, fear of the future, being so sick, and by the disease hyperememsis gravidarum.  I was so sick with the nausea and vomiting that I did not know that the severe anxiety was caused by Reglan.  

It was during one of these episodes of anxiety that the fear I could not do it all became very frightening.  A former boyfriend told me to call his cousins and that they would help me.  I had been providing care for John’s grandaughter, Alexis, for several years and had no idea that a member of his family would be so deceitful as to covet my unborn children.  I did not know that these people only wanted my children.  I needed help and had been praying for help, so at John’s insistence and urging, I made the call.

The usual false promises were made: that they only wanted what was best for me and the baby, they would not pressure me, it would be fully open, and I would always see my children.  If I did not return e-mail or phone calls to these people, John would tell me to not be rude to his family.  That was how the pressure started, subtly at first but continuous. 

When I went into the hospital, I sent an e-mail and I said I had other things to worry about – surgery and new babies.  The message I sent was to please not contact me anymore.  I was too ill to control this situation.  These people had too much access to me through John and I was not strong enough to protect myself. I wanted distance from them and I had it for a mere two and half weeks. 

On July 17th, using their relationship with John, they made arrangements to come to my house, on the pretense of seeing the babies.  However, the real agenda was not to visit a new mom and offer her congratulations and support, it was to insert themselves into my life again. 

I can only answer this question by saying that I never wanted to lose control of my children and this was known to all involved.  At one point, I asked the Needhams if they would care for Tyler for a while under a guardianship arrangement so I could get better and get stronger.  They said that they would not.  John assured me over and over again that these were good people, his family, and I could trust them.  As the weeks went on, I became more and more vulnerable and the pressure tactics increased.  I was fooled and I was exploited because I was too debilitated and depressed to protect myself.   The fraud of false promises and an open adoption worked.  I though open adoption was something new and modern, a new sort of family arrangement.  Instead it is just the well known bait and switch tactic used by so many confidence artists.