09/18/2024
Hello! My name is Jeri Jones, and I am one of four Tulsa Climb leaders for 2024. Here's my (very condensed) story about why I climb.
In March 2013 I was prepared to give birth to my first child. I took the pregnancy very seriously - researched all the things, took all the classes, created my ideal birth plan, etc. Life had felt like a fairy tale, and I expected nothing less about my birth experience. Fast forward a bit, literally NOTHING went according to plan. The labor was intervention heavy, I had an "emergency" C-section, I was incredibly sick afterwards, I was alone, and the whole family met my baby boy before I ever got to hold him. Furthermore, the anesthesia erased so much of my memory of what was supposed to be the best day of my entire life. I struggled afterwards, and I struggled HARD. My husband didn't know how to support me, through no fault of his own. I reached out to my OB for help, but because I didn't screen positive for postpartum depression, I was given a hug and a pep talk, then sent on my way to figure it out on my own. I didn't figure it out. Fast forward many years later, I had developed chronic persistent depression and anxiety with bouts of major depression where I fantasized about scary thoughts. I was a high achiever - good education, good career, nice house, seemingly successful life, but I was tormented inside for years. I had tried to turn my pain into purpose by getting involved in a local cesarean support group, then eventually certifying as a doula and childbirth educator, yet my mental health continued to plummet. One day I turned to Laureate thinking it was my last resort, and when I walked out of there not having received what I was looking for, I had my first panic attack. In the midst of that panic attack, I had a realization that no one was going to save me and I had to be my own rescuer. I started seeing a psychiatrist, I got on new medication, I started seeing a therapist, I started utilizing self-help resources, and I got better! After some time, out of the blue, I felt a calling to become a therapist myself. In 2021, walked away from my 12-year accounting career to go to grad school. It was in this educational journey that I finally found a name for my postpartum experience. Grief. My once-in-a-lifetime journey to becoming a mother for the first time had been forever stained by heart-shattering trauma. But prolonged grief isn't a diagnosis if someone didn't die, despite checking all the boxes for symptomology. I wrote my grad school research proposal about disenfranchised grief in the perinatal period, specifically for loss of the dreamed-about birth experience, and I am on a mission to change the verbiage in the DSM to reflect this very real, all-too-common grief experience. Because without a qualifying diagnosis, I did not get the professional help I needed, and my life has been forever changed because of it. We all deserve to be seen and have our experiences validated, with or without a label to define them, and to be referred to appropriate, trained professionals for help and support.
THIS IS WHY I CLIMB.
