POTTERY BARN PTSD

🌷Phil and my life have been forever changed because of infertility. Even when we are in the best spirits, the simplest things can bring back the most painful memories. I can't walk into the restaurant where I told Phil I was pregnant. Everytime I hear the name Henry, I get choked up. Being in a position with a baby on the way (and going through massive amounts of therapy), I know these emotional landmines exist, and I try, (as best as one can) to mentally prepare myself.

One of the things I have not been able to do is walk into a baby store. I have opened a few baby gifts, and these have brought so much healing and joy. I LOVE staring at the little outfits. But something about actually walking into a baby store, I just couldn't do it.

Oddly enough, I didn't have this feeling decorating the nursery. When we found out our transfer was a success, within weeks, I was talking about nursery ideas.  I think a part of me thought, "build the nursery and the baby will come." Almost like, if this baby has a space, she will absolutely arrive. Phil held me back. He wanted to wait until the second trimester to start my pink project. I'm a reasonable person (or at least, rational), and I agreed to wait.

This past week, we did it. We walked through the doors of Pottery Barn. I felt, not necessarily joy, but I felt okay. I sat in a bunch of chairs, looked at fabric swatches, picked out the dresser, chair, and crib. For me, it all went swimmingly. However, as I meandered around, Phil was constantly moving out of sight. He could not stand by my side. As I went to check out, he kept pacing around the store (which became problematic when I realized he needed to reactivate our card to pay!)

We left the store, and quite frankly, I was annoyed and disappointed in the experience. I thought we were going to share in finally taking this next step, picking out furniture for our daughter. Instead, it was really like I was there alone, with my husband doing laps around the stuffed giraffes and pregnant women.

What I failed to understand was the trauma this experience brought up for Phil. For me, this experience was a step into our future. For Phil, it was a reminder of the darkest days of both our lives. Two years ago, we had ordered our furniture in the same store, around the same time of pregnancy, and it was Phil who checked out at the registry, and it was Phil who had to beg Pottery Barn to not deliver the nursery furniture to our home (set to arrive shortly after we lost our son). (As a side note, a small part of the reason I felt so good going back to the same store was because they were so good to Phil when he pleaded with them to take the furniture back.)

Phil's experience going into Pottery Barn, for him, was like walking back in his shoes two years ago. I'll be honest, I still was hoping for a better furniture buying experience, but this was a reminder, albeit a sad one, of the trauma that Phil experiences as well. He doesn't express it, and the statement "he was my rock" seems like such a cliche thing to say, but it's true. He got me through the worst years of my life....and somehow, he got through too. I wasn't able to be as strong as he was. I wore my trauma on my sleeve. I cried. I screamed. I withdrew from life and people. I pleaded with God. I was so distraught, I took my anger and sadness out on myself (to the extent that I ended up fracturing my femur from over-exercising) and sometimes, I'm not proud to say, I took it out on Phil. I wish I could have been better because he also needed the support he gave me.

Thinking back on this Pottery Barn experience, it was a good reminder that Phil has so many feels about this experience. While I go to therapy and I talk to my friends (now), Phil is more insular in dealing with his trauma. But it's there and it manifests itself at times, and it's my role to at least try and be the rock and support that he has been for so many years (for me, and for so many people in his life). 

I have gotten better at recognizing triggering situations for myself, and I hope I can start acknowledging the ones for Phil because we are on this journey together. Phil is the only person that can fully grasp what these past two years have been like, and he deserves the support and love he gives me.

(I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have him by my side. And Evelyn Eleanor and Henry Frederick are the luckiest kiddos to have him as a dad).🌷