EMDR Therapy + I’m Having a Baby!

Well it certainly has been a while, hasn’t it? I find it harder and harder to maintain some semblance of a schedule the further out I get from having been in school. Which feels ironic, because while I was in school, it was such a demanding time that I didn’t really have time for the things I enjoyed– like blogging or reading fun books. Now, I’ve got an abundance of time, yet I watch it slip away all the same.

The past 6 or so months have been full of some fun and exciting changes, as well as some unique challenges. Shortly after the publishing of my last post, I was having a conversation with my therapist, not unlike many conversations we’d had before. We were discussing how my past trauma still has an impact on my life now. It informs how I feel about myself on a regular basis. It makes me feel less-than those around me. It makes me feel ashamed and alone. My wonderful therapist, Janet, then asked if I had ever heard of EMDR.

EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It’s a type of therapy that is specifically for processing trauma. It uses bilateral stimulation, such as eye movement or tapping, to “reprogram” your brain’s response to traumatic events. I had indeed heard of it, and had even been compelled to try it. However, it always felt like something that wasn’t accessible to me for one reason or another. I also questioned its efficacy. It felt a little “woo-woo” or out there. How the heck was moving your eyes from side to side while recalling the worst moments of your life supposed to have any lasting impact? Despite that, when Janet told me that one of her colleagues was EMDR certified, I hopped on board immediately and scheduled my first session with him.

Leading up to the appointment, I was a ball of nerves. I had no idea what to expect, and the last time I had really delved into my trauma was by signing my mom and myself up to do a podcast, This Is Actually Happening, which is one where people go to tell stories of their worst moments in life. I had no idea what I was getting into then, and it retriggered me. I suffered for months, if not years, after the podcast with all of the feelings I had worked so hard to push away. With EMDR, I was scared of something similar happening. I was finally getting to a point where my relationship with my husband felt secure, and I was terrified that by dredging the past up, I would cause more harm than good. Still, I desperately wanted to see how my life may be able to change if I could, once and for all, truly process my trauma.

The day of the appointment came, and I entered Sawyer’s office, apprehensive, but ready. He spent the first 10 or so minutes explaining the process of EMDR to me. He let me know that the first appointment would be a shallow look at my trauma. Together, we created a timeline of the events that have plagued me. As we talked, it became clear that my trauma is a bit complex. It was ongoing for years. It took many different shapes throughout my life. There were a few events that stuck out amongst the rest as being the most influential on my core beliefs. Beliefs such as:

• You’re not good enough.
• You don’t deserve to be loved.
• You don’t deserve happiness.
• Nothing good will ever happen to you, and even if it does, it won’t be earned.
• You’ll never be able to be a good mother, wife, or friend.
• Everyone in your life secretly hates you or is just tolerating your existence.
• You are destined to be miserable forever.

We were able to trace these beliefs to certain events that inspired me to feel that way. We neared the end of the appointment, realizing it was going to take more than one session to even just outline what needed to be addressed. I left feeling extremely validated. Obviously, having been the one to live my life, I understood on some level that I had been through A LOT. But to not even be able to list it all out in one 1-hour session made me realize just how much I had truly endured in my 27 years. I felt eager for our next session, so that we could finish the timeline and begin the processing.

While outlining my life’s events, it was clear to me that one area I really needed to focus on was the car wreck with my mom. (Long story, I have a blog post about it if you’re unfamiliar.) That single event inspired a majority of the negative core beliefs I’ve been holding onto for what feels like most of my life. It was a defining event in my life. One where there was a distinct before and after. My life changed drastically in that one moment, and I’ve carried it with me for more than a decade. We spent two sessions just on the wreck itself. First, we focused on the feelings that came directly after. The way that it irrevocably shattered my relationship with my mom. The way that it isolated me from everyone. I struggled to make true connections, always feeling there was a wall that prevented me from getting close to anyone. All the while, I followed Sawyer’s finger as he rapidly moved them back and forth in front of me.

Sometimes, emotions would swell up from nowhere. I would find myself suddenly crying as I realized how heavy it had been to carry this trauma with me everywhere. I lived in a secret fear of being “found out.” It seemed self-evident that if anyone ever learned the truth about me, they would be disgusted and hate me. It felt as if I could never truly be myself, because the core of who I was was not something I was proud of.

After that session, I began having some symptoms of PTSD ramp back up. While driving to and from work, I would imagine that cars in the oncoming lane were coming into my lane. It would make my heart race, and there was even a time where I slammed on my breaks, believing that a car was careening directly for me, just to see that they were, in fact, in their lane minding their own business. This happened to me years ago, and I didn’t even realize it until one day, my husband asked me what I was doing after I swerved away from an oncoming car. “They were coming into our lane, didn’t you see?” “No,” he told me, because they hadn’t been. It was then I realized that all of those moments were in my head. I had been imagining the cars coming into my lane.

I told Sawyer about these moments, so he suggested we go to the details of the wreck itself to begin processing that. It was hard. It was as if I was reliving those moments that were so full of terror, sadness, and shame. But I knew it needed to be done. By the end of the session, I already felt lighter. I was beginning to see the truth, which is that I was a broken, scared child who desperately needed someone to help her. She was screaming out for help, but each attempt fell on deaf ears. The car wreck was a last resort. A hail Mary. I began to see how I could take responsibility for that moment without taking responsibility for all of the things that came before that were certainly NOT my fault. All of the abuse, neglect, and heart ache. I began to see that this one moment did not define me.

In total, I had 12 sessions of EMDR with Sawyer. We dove into other traumatic events, such as sexual abuse I’d suffered, as well as my later teen years which were defined by being a care-taker for my alcoholic father. We even talked about more recent things, such as my dad’s death and my sister’s horrific behavior at the time. By the end of our sessions together, even the memories that had once been the source of nightmares could no longer stand against my newfound confidence.

I remember one of the defining moments of this time was deciding to add my coworkers on Facebook. This seems like such a trivial thing, but before EMDR, I was literally terrified of people finding out the “truth” about me. This included my coworkers. I imagined that if anyone ever knew about the wreck, then they would use it as evidence for why I can’t be a good nurse. Or that they would simply hate me. I carried this fear with me on a daily basis, even subconsciously. It prevented me from opening up to anyone about anything in my life. I kept everyone at arm’s length. One night, I realized that it wasn’t something I had to do anymore. I didn’t have to live in fear, I could instead live in the confidence that those who truly know my heart would be able to understand me and my actions. And that those who did learn the truth and decide to hate me were likely not the types of people I valued having in my life anyway. I came home from work and accepted the 15 or so friend requests I had been ignoring for months. I cried to my husband, sharing with him this fear I’d held on to for so long. I remember him being genuinely shocked to hear me say that I didn’t add people on Facebook out of fear. For me, it seemed so self-evident, but for him it was an absurdity.

Another belief that changed drastically through the course of EMDR was related to having kids. I’ve spent most of my life believing I would never be a mother. Not from a lack of desire, but out of fear. I had convinced myself that due to my past and the family I came from, it would be impossible for me to have kids without perpetuating the cycle of abuse. I imagined all the various ways in which I would cause my child mental and emotional harm, because I believed I was not good enough to be a mother. That I was not emotionally stable enough. That I was not deserving. As our sessions went on, I began to see just how different I am from my family. I have always wanted to be authentic. To speak truth, no matter the consequences. I come from a long line of “We just don’t talk about it.” I began to see the truth– which is that I will not be like my own parents. That I don’t have to perpetuate the cycle. That in fact, I have already broken it.

All of this was awfully convenient timing, because towards the end of my sessions with Sawyer, in April, I found out that I am pregnant. Today, I am writing all of this as my little one wiggles inside my belly, reminding me of their existence. I’m a little over halfway through my pregnancy, and I am so, so excited. It feels surreal at times, having believed for so long that I would not get here in life. Of course, I still have anxieties and fears. I wonder how I will manage motherhood. I know it won’t be easy, and I question my ability. The difference is that deep down, I know that it’s going to work out, which isn’t something I’ve always been able to say. My future is bright and full of hope, because I no longer believe that I deserve darkness for the rest of my days.

A few months after completing EMDR, I was telling a coworker just how deeply it had transformed me. I mentioned that prior to the therapy, I thought I was an awful, horrible person who deserved to be hated. I explained that for most of my life, I carried this quiet but crushing belief that if people truly knew me, they would hate me. Another coworker overheard and, jokingly interjected, “I do hate you!” We all laughed, but I smiled at her and said, “That’s the difference now. You might hate me, and that’s okay. Because I no longer believe that about myself.”