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‘I gently patted my son’s back when I heard a crackling, wheezing sound. ‘Something’s wrong, I just know it,’ I told my husband.’: Mom candidly shares journey with parenting PTSD

“I cried to the nurse on the hotline, ‘It sounds like he has fluid in his chest.’ I would sit nursing my son, crying endlessly in that rocking chair. Every breath my son took heightened my already over-the-top anxiety attack. I knew it wasn’t just anxiety. It was something more. This was the start of so many triggers.”

‘He caught me off guard. ‘Let’s meet.’ Weeks later, the inevitable happened. My fairy tale was under attack. My sorority sisters called the police, who brought me to the hospital. It’s all hazy.’

“I started to see signs all around me. It seemed as though clues were everywhere and everyone was in on it. I had no words, but the real me was crying out, ‘What is going on?!’ I couldn’t explain what was happening to me. My mind was stripped of everything.”

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