Thirty-six hours went by before Sunshine slept after returning home from the children's inpatient psychiatric ward.

She chattered in her bed all night long.

Neither my husband or I slept.  Thank goodness he had been able to switch days off to be here with me for the day.

The minute the clock struck 8 AM, I was on the phone calling the psych ward she had just been discharged from as well as our developmental pediatrician.  I also called our in-home therapist.

I wasn't sure who would talk to me.  I just knew I had to talk to someone.

This was NOT okay.

I was fuming.

Medication

The psychiatrist called back first.  Very calmly she explained that Sunshine not sleeping was most likely one of the medications she was given.  One of the side effects is not being able to sleep.

This was exactly why I didn't want her discharged in the first place!

Thankfully the psychiatrist wanted to help.  She recommended changing up the dosage of another med to balance out the reaction.

Then she gave me her e-mail and said she would work with us until our follow up appointment with our developmental pediatrician.

So began daily e-mails back and forth until finding stability with Sunshine's meds.

Aggression and Defiance

But medication wasn't the solution to all that was going on.  Sunshine's aggression and defiance were still out of control.

The first few days she was calm, but once she caught up on sleep...  BEWARE!

It was as if nothing had changed.  In some ways she was worse.

A feeling of despair was felt by everyone.

This was NOT okay!

What were we to do?

Purposeful Behavior

Our in-home therapist was amazing during this time.  When things were at their worst and Sunshine was threatening to harm others beyond the typical aggression, she was right there.

That's when we learned that these new behaviors were purposeful.

Medication can help some things, but not all.

Even worse Sunshine was very aware of her thoughts, words, and actions.  She understood the consequences and did not care.

The trip in the police car, the ER visits, the nine days in an inpatient facility hadn't done a thing.

This was NOT okay!

We were devastated.

Decisions

Decisions had to be made.  Sunshine was a danger to herself and others.

We could take her back to the ER and move forward with the inpatient experience again.  She would either be sent home after a few days or sent to a residential facility.

We could attempt to access funding quickly and place her in residential if a bed was available.

Or, we could consider a day program that would allow her to stay at home, but be gone during the day.

My husband and I couldn't fathom going through the ER and inpatient experience again so soon.  Emotionally, mentally, and physically we could not pull that off.

I was at peace with residential placement, as devastating as that would be, but we had no idea how long that process would take.

In the end we decided it was extremely important to exhaust ALL of our options before considering residential placement.

We contacted the principal of a day program/special needs school in the area via e-mail and hoped for the best.

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Nine Days (Chapter 7)

For nine days Sunshine remained inpatient at a children's psych ward.

For nine days my husband and I took turns visiting her every morning, driving 45 minutes each way.

For nine days my husband and I woke up early and spent our mornings preparing meals for Sunshine, to bring when we visited.  

For nine days we spoke with psych ward nurses, psychiatrists, and therapists about how she was doing.  

They would call us whenever there was a behavioral issue, whenever there was a med change, or whenever there was a question.

For nine days we coordinated with outside agencies to get services set up for when Sunshine would come home.  This meant phone calls, appointments, and more driving.

Reality

For nine days our lives were literally turned upside down.

I dreaded waking up in the morning, yet couldn't sleep if I tried.  

I had been told to enjoy the respite, but this was NOT respite.  

Our lives were crazier now than they had ever been when Sunshine was home.

Exhaustion didn't begin to describe our physical, mental, and emotional states.

Did we have to visit on a daily basis?  

No.  

But Sunshine is only six years old.

We had worked for years on attachment.  We didn't want that ruined.  Not to mention this was the first time she had ever been away from us for more than a few hours.

Then there were the meals.  I did not have time to make several days worth of meals at a time because I was so busy with other stuff relating to Sunshine.  The hospital could not accommodate her allergies.  We had a agreed to this.

No matter how hard we tried to function outside of the fact that Sunshine was in a psychiatric hospital, we just couldn't.  There was not a single day where we could just relax and breathe.

Everything was about Sunshine.

I would continue to keep the rest of the kids on a schedule the best I could. 

My husband kept working.

For nine days we were on auto pilot.  We did what needed to be done and that was it.

The Psych Ward

Visits were not always great.  We ended up asking a staff member to be in the room with us in case there were issues, which many times there were.

Med changes happened frequently and fast.  

Sunshine couldn't eat enough while she was there.  I believe part of this was medication changes, but the other part was that food was comfort to her.  It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that she probably gained five pounds while inpatient.

Because she was so young she couldn't participate in many of the group activities at the psychiatric hospital.

Sunshine had a one-to-one with her at all times and was not interacting with other children.

And then just like that they wanted to send her home.

All the Reasons Why

No services were set up at home yet.  All of that takes time.

Her last medication increase had been that very morning.  There was no way to tell if it was working or not.

My other children hadn't even begun to process what had happened before she left, nor were we at all comfortable with her coming home yet.

The therapist we spoke to before discharge literally tried to tell my kids that it was okay for Sunshine to hurt them.  Boy did the therapist receive quite the reprimand from me.

Sunshine had been waking up in the night for the past three nights, which is a sure sign something is not okay. 

We had not received prescriptions for new and increased doses of medication.  Some were controlled substances and it was a Sunday.

My husband had to go to work the very next day and so I would be home alone with all four children.

But none of that mattered.

Sunshine hadn't had an aggressive episode in three days (mostly because she was having med increases so quickly, and because she wasn't sleeping at night).

Insurance would no longer cover her stay.

The hospital needed the bed.

Goodbye

And just like that after nine days, Sunshine was sent home from a children's psych ward with not a single promise of anything being better.

My husband and I fought with the psychiatrist and therapist so much that day of discharge, begging and pleading for them to keep her.

Nothing worked.

We were on our own.  Again.

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Our First Family Therapy Session in a Children's Psych Ward (Chapter 6)

The first full day Sunshine was gone, I didn't have a chance to even think about missing her.

We needed to supply her meals in the pediatric psychiatric ward because she has so many allergies.  

I ran to the store to pick up all of her favorite things and then my husband and I prepared meals.

All of us went to visit her so the other children could see where she was staying.  

We drove there, visited, drove back, and then my husband had to go to work.

I literally spent the rest of the day in a haze.  

My other children needed some down time after having been tossed around for a week, so we all just did our own thing.

The hospital that Sunshine was staying called and wanted to schedule our first family therapy session in a children's psych ward for the next day, Sunday.

Mother's Day.

Grief

Sunday was the first day my husband had off since we had taken Sunshine to the second ER.

For the first time we could talk about how we were feeling, and how NOT okay we were.

I don't know how long we held each other or how long I sobbed into my husband's chest, but it was at least a couple of hours.

The negative emotions were just so strong.

For both of us.

We felt them all and for so many different reasons.

Anger.

Fear.

Sadness.

That was just the beginning.

Then there was the confusion and guilt about any positive emotions we felt.

It was pure torment.

What a way to start off Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day! NOT!

We couldn't take too much time feeling and expressing emotions, because we had to make more meals for Sunshine and get ready for our first family therapy session and another visit.  

But at least we knew where we were both at and that was important.

For years to come I will look back on this Mother's Day, remembering Sunshine was in a psych ward and our Mother's Day celebration was our first family therapy session there.

Words don't do the trauma justice.

But, Mother's Day was the only day my husband had off, so we had no choice.

The therapy session went as well as one would expect.

There were serious concerns.

Sunshine was not okay.

As a mother of a child of Reactive Attachment Disorder, it's so easy to feel that it's all your fault.

Professionals are also very good at reinforcing this idea.

An Unhappy Ending

All four kids played together after we finished the  therapy session in a designated area.

And then... 

Sunshine became aggressive again.

Staff pulled her off and a way from us.

She had to be removed from the visit.

I was unable to say goodbye.

There were no hugs.

There were no kisses.

The kids were left traumatized.

Our family was escorted out of the pediatric psych ward.

And that was it.

Not Ready to Go Home

I just couldn't go home after that.

Though it was Sunday, and we would never consider such an option in normal circumstances, we decided to go out to eat.

The kids were starving and struggling with the traumatic ending to the visit.

We needed to do something.

So Red Lobster it was.

I ordered a virgin strawberry daiquiri as a Mother's Day gift to myself.

The kids ordered their favorite meals.

My husband went with his go-to meal.

We just sat there, talking about nothing, and enjoyed the moment of peace, yet unable to forget what just happened.

I couldn't eat very much.

Thankfully, the kids had no issues with this.

They ordered their favorite desserts.

Our waitress was wonderful.

And finally, we all decided we were ready to make the 45 minute drive home over the mountain.

Changing Plans

That night I decided I couldn't handle visiting Sunshine every day as we had originally planned.

It was just too much.

The visits were too traumatizing.

My heart couldn't take it.

Starting the next day my husband and I took turns visiting Sunshine in the psychiatric ward every other day.

We'd wake up early, prepare her meals, get the other kids through their morning routines and breakfast, and then one of us would leave.

The hospital was 45 minutes one way.  

The visit lasted about an hour.  

We'd drive 45 minutes home and then my husband would have another 30 minutes before he had to leave for work.

This was our new normal.

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My Daugther is Inpatient at a Children's Psych Ward (Chapter 5)

When I arrived home from the hospital the house was empty.

My other children were at friend's houses and my husband was at work.

I made calls to let people know they could bring my children home.

And then I went outside and sat on the porch swing and watched the day turn to night.

This was the first time I had been alone in...  I honestly don't know how long.

My body was numb.

All I could do was breathe, listening to the sounds of nature around me.

The words echoed in my head,

"My daughter is inpatient at a children's psych ward."

It still didn't seem real.

Ice cream

The stillness brought with it a sense of peace, strength and healing, at least enough to get me through the night.

I just kept rocking the swing back and forth.

At one point it occurred to me that I was hungry and hadn't had anything to eat or drink in eight hours.

Usually I'm a stress eater, but through this experience, I just couldn't eat.

The sick feeling in my stomach just wouldn't go away.

I found some leftover Ben & Jerry's in the freezer and returned to my swing.

Ice cream was the only thing that sounded good.

I called my mom and then my Grandpa just happened to call out of the blue.

That's when I said it for the first time to someone who wasn't aware of what was going on.

"Sunshine is inpatient at a children's psych ward."

I really don't know how I said it so calmly without a crack in my voice.

But I did.

We spoke for only a few minutes as my other children started to arrive.

Then life just kept moving forward, whether I was ready for it or not.

Ready or Not

My other children were dropped off one by one.

I spoke with those who had been watching them, smiling, laughing, and joking as they told stories of the day's events before saying thank you and goodbye.

The kids needed to eat dinner, bathe and get into pjs.

At dinner I crumbled, almost sobbing because I missed my Sunshine so much.  She usually hugs me at least 50 times a day.

It had been four hours since my last hug.

I wondered how she was doing, if she was okay, if she was scared...

And then I had to stop thinking about her and take care of my other three children.

They were all feeling so many emotions as well and we needed to talk about them.  I needed to validate that whatever they were feeling was okay.

Each of them took turns.  Their feelings were pretty mutual.

They really missed Sunshine but at the same time they were so thankful she was gone.

No one wanted to get hurt again.

The Show Must Go On

It was a Friday.

This meant the boys were expecting their Friday night movie night with popcorn.

To them, their sister being inpatient at a children's psych ward didn't warrant changing their routines and schedules.

And so we just went on doing what we do.

The kids had so many fabulous stories to tell about their week of adventures.

I tried my best to be excited, smiling, and laughing where appropriate.

And that was that.

Broken

I made it through the night until the kids were in bed and my husband was home from work, and then I crashed.

Never had I felt so exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

So many people told me to take the time that my daughter spent in a children's psych ward to rest, have respite, and recharge.

But I knew even after just one night, this wasn't going to happen.

I was broken.

My daughter was inpatient at a children's psych ward.

How could I rest?

How could this be respite?

How could I recharge if I wasn't even okay to begin with?

Maybe this was all a bad dream?

And that's when I fell asleep on my tear stained pillow.

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