Post-partum depression

This was originally posted as a note on Facebook, on Friday, December 3, 2010.

Time to move my writing all to one place, huh?

Why don't we women talk about this? I mean, even to each other?

There shouldn't be any shame in having post-partum depression. I'm working through it myself right now, but for some reason have been reluctant to talk about it with anyone other than my mom and sister, and my sweet husband. Even talking with *them* about it is hard. (Thankfully my husband is the kind of guy that will listen without trying to fix everything for me!)

Hormone levels change drastically during pregnancy, at birth, and afterward when nursing is established: all these changing hormones can do a number on a woman's mood. Add in recovery from giving birth, punctuated sleep and the stress of your clothes not fitting, and drastic mood swings can result. I know a lot of this is common knowledge, but these are things I have to remind myself when the emptiness starts creeping in.

I haven't done the research, but I think the natural hormone change process is interrupted when a woman has a c-section, like me. Does that mean she is more likely than others to have PPD? I don't know. This is the first time I've had to deal with it, after three cesareans.

Depression is not a logical state of mind: after four years of praying and waiting, I am finally able to be home with my children--and I don't feel anything. Not happy, although we were extatic to welcome our newest son; not sad, though sometimes I can't stop the tears. Sometimes I feel lonely when I'm surrounded by my loving family. It doesn't make sense.

I can't sing. Those of you who know me well know that that's just not me. I sing when I'm cooking. I change a diaper, I'm singing to a little someone. When I'm driving, in the shower, cleaning, almost everywhere I go I'm singing something . . . but right now I just can't find the desire.

I'm not sharing this for sympathy, though I would appreciate your prayers as I travel this road. I'm also not looking for solutions--what I'm doing now seems to be working (dietary changes, rest, herbal supplements) and I'm back to functioning normally. I just want to encourage new and experienced mommies to be on the lookout for the signs, and please talk about how you're feeling with people you trust.

My symptoms surfaced suddenly, almost violently, and it was a real struggle for me to acknowledge that what was happening to me was depression. But it is, and I'm getting through it.

I still don't feel like myself but I can laugh with my kids again, and I know the Lord will help me find my voice again.

Perspective

This was originally posted as a note on Facebook, on Wednesday, March 16, 2011.

Time to move my writing all to one place, huh?

It was a hard day, and frankly, the last place I wanted to be was at the grocery store with the whole family. I've had this cold/flu thing, and I just wanted to be back home in my jammies.

The kids had been restless all afternoon . . . cabin fever big time! Picking at each other, picking at me . . . driving me just a little nutso . . . so fighting the dinner-time mob at the store just wasn't where I wanted to be.

The baby had finally fallen asleep in his car seat--poor third child, not allowed to nap by the noisy older siblings--when we got to the checkout. My oldest started asking for everything she saw: "Can I have a princess doll? Can I have gum? Can I have a cookie? Can I, oh they have candy canIhavesomecandymommypleeeeease?" Well, 20 minutes before dinner I was not going to give in to treats.

So she starts crying, which really lifted my sinus headache to a whole other level.

I was just trying to keep it together so we could get out the door, when an older lady approached. She smiled sweetly at the kids, and just as I was about to offer her the older two (for free!), she asked softly,

"Oh, can I just take a peek?" and stopped to admire the baby.

"I think he's asleep." I said quietly. "Finally!"

She gave me a measuring look, as if she was looking straight into my heart, into my bad day, into my headache. She started to speak, paused and pursed her lips, then began:

"We, my husband and I, got our first child when she was 5 months old. We adopted her, you know," she looked fondly at my sleeping babe. "She was 11 months old when the papers were finalized."

She took another deep breath. "A few months later I had this flu I just couldn't shake," she said, patting her stomach. "I finally went to the doctor, and he said, 'Well, we know you can't get pregnant, but we'll check just in case.' Well, wouldn't you know, there it was, we were pregnant after all." I smiled, enjoying the story of her miracle.

She stood another moment, smiling at the baby, then looked up at me through yesterday's tears. "We lost 6 more after that, but I had my girls." She sighed, smiled, then said, "And we fostered more than 300 children after that."

I was stunned. "Oh, well God bless you, what a wonderful thing to do!" I said with tears welling up in my eyes.

"And," she said grandly, "I also have 15 great-grandchildren." She beamed at me, then went on her way with a, "Have a nice evening."

I wish I'd asked her name. If I'd been able to speak, I'd have thanked her for her generous heart, and for helping me to have a better outlook on my day.

A picture of me

This was originally posted as a note on Facebook, on  Monday, April 25, 2011.

Time to move my writing all to one place, huh? 

The realization took my breath away, literally stopping me in my tracks halfway to the breakfast table.

My girl and I had just gone round and round and round . . . she was crying, screaming, stomping and generally throwing a fit because she'd gotten something in her eye. I kept telling her I needed to take a look, touch her face, make sure she was okay. She calmed down, then the stinging returned and the jumping crying fit started over again. For nearly half an hour we were at it: me, trying to make sure she was not cut or injuring herself further, she, trying to rub her eye and relieve the pain.

Finally she'd cried it out, whatever it was, calmed down, and we were able to get on with making our scrambled eggs.

I finished cooking our meal and was bringing it to the table when I discovered, once again, that God has a great sense of humor. The realization that left me breathless was this: the screaming crying stomping fit I'd been trying to quell was a perfect picture of how I have acted when wounded, though the struggle is internal.

Often in my life, I find that when something hurts I call for help (through prayer), help comes (like me going to my daughter, my Savior comes to me), and I fight the help. I calm down long enough to allow Him to touch the hurting places, but only long enough for the pain to start again, then I start crying and throwing a fit (of sorts). WHY do I do that? Why do any of us do that?! We ask God to help us and when He shows up, we won't let Him touch our wound. It's madness

I'm going through a Bible study with some girls from church--it's on freedom in Christ--and we're tackling the topic of forgiveness. The emotional mess I've found myself in with my PPD has helped to open my eyes to old junk I was hanging on to, specifically--unforgiveness. That was another breathless realization. I honestly thought I'd dealt with some of the old hurts, but in reality I'd buried the pain under performance and a well-polished mask. Yuck. This was not a place I expected to go when I started this study. I was *hoping* for freedom from the depression. Fortunately for me, my Savior knows what I *truly* needed--to let go of past hurts through forgiveness--and He was faithful to lead me to it.

So as I ponder this truth, it brings me to another . . . the reason I haven't been able to sing. Of course, I still have the ability, such as it is, but the desire and real passion for music and praising God has been absent for almost a year. I haven't "felt" it but couldn't put my finger on it. It was like every time I went to lay down the offering something was holding me back, barring me from the altar.

“Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” 

Mark 11:23-25

I had been asking for healing, but not truly believing it would come. My frustrated prayer that changed from "Help me!" to "Be Glorified!" let me see how I was scratching scars and keeping them open, raw, prone to infection. I was rubbing my wounds instead of inviting my Savior to come in and heal them, just like Rachael rubbed her eye when it hurt. Wow. I was carrying hurt around that was keeping me out of the throne room, away from the altar, like when you try to walk through a doorway holding a broom horizontally in front of you, it bars the way. Wow again.

So again I'm laying it down again , and will continue to do so. It's the only way I can re-focus my attention on what truly matters here: giving my Savior what He's asked of me.

Everything.

The FIRST annual Boy Mom BlogHop!

Helloooo there ladies of The M.O.B. Society!  Welcome to this little corner of my world.

Until recently this little blog o' mine has been more of a diary for me than anything, so forgive the newbie-ness.  I've been a SAHM for just over a year now, and I'm still trying to get it together.  Hopefully connecting with some of you ladies will help! 

My oldest, my girly-girl, is 5 years old, and I have two extremely busy little dudes, who are 2 1/2 and 9 months old.  Oh, do those boys keep me on my toes!  Since they're so little and I'm still trying to puzzle out being a boy mom, I wonder if any other boy moms out there ponder these types of questions:

• Where did the facination with trucks and trains (and anything with wheels) comes from?
• WHAT is UP with the crazy gastric noises? My dudes are little, but have full-on man burps. Seriously.
• And the question I don't think I'll ever answer:  why, when you're about to have photos taken, do they get some sort of scratch/bump/bruise on their face?

I don't get boys yet.  But they sure are a lot of fun  :-)

In the last two years our family has gone through some major changes, I've dealt with depression, had a baby, moved, left a job I loved . . . yeah.  There's a lot going on here!  I'm sure lots of you can relate. 

I recently started reading Notes To Aspiring Writers (<---please read this ASAP!) and have determined to write for that all-important "audience of one," my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  I have nothing worthy to offer to my God but my honest praise. 

Psalm 27:5-7 (NASB)

For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle;

In the secret place of His tent He will hide me;

He will lift me up on a rock.

And now my head will be lifted up above my enemies around me,

And I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy;

I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the LORD.

Hear, O LORD, when I cry with my voice,

And be gracious to me and answer me.

After all, didn't Jesus say that if men ceased to praise Him, the very stones would cry out?  
 
So that's my new goal here:  to daily sing the Lord's praise, to worship Him with thanksgiving, to find the music in the everyday.  When the days are bright, sunshiny, and full of fun, I need to praise God.  Even when the days are hard and it feels like my tears won't stop; even when there's a bad cut that needs stitches; even when I'm too tired to play blocks, or read that Thomas the Tank Engine book again; I need to praise Him. 
 
Will you join me in the choir?

~

Welcome to the First Annual Boy Mom BlogHop hosted by The M.O.B. Society.  How does it work? Glad you asked!


1.Write up a welcome post on your blog
2.Include information about you and what your blog is about
3.Tell us about your boys (age, how many, etc)
4.Share anything you think other boy moms need to know about you (ministries, businesses, etc)
5.Share a few of your sons’ favorite books and tell us the age group they’re best-suited for
6.Visit the MOB Society blog on July 28th and link-up your blog to the hop (use the post’s permalink)
7.Commit to visiting as many other blogs in the hop as you possibly can to make new friends, say “hi” and encourage one another in the Lord.