Tuesday, July 5, 2011

The lord has promised good to me.

I've been trying to blog... really, but I just can't. If I tried to blog it would look something like this,

"I have been struggling this week with accepting myself for who I am. I want to be... more. I'm not being the best I could be. I need to be better."

I have been struggling with postpartum depression. Did I just say that? What is it about women that don't want to admit this? Why is it SO hard for me to say it. Jerry suggested I talk to someone just so I'll feel better. More like myself and a little less sad and I feel completely defensive; "What? No, it's not that bad. It'll go away." I'm just a little bit sad, that feeling of being a little bit tired and a little bit not good enough. It's just a little bit harder than necessary to joyfully clean my house. After a few days of not really doing much around the house I was able to put my finger on it; hopeless.

I like to close my eyes, breathe deeply and listen to Chris Tomlin.

"My chains are gone and I've been set free" - I remind myself that this is true. I don't have to have these thoughts, I don't have to keep things in my heart that have hurt me. I don't have to and shouldn't continue to think about hurtful things that people have said to me/about me, things I've thought people were thinking about me, things I've thought about myself. I try my best, I always try to be myself. I shouldn't feel bad that I can't do it all, that I'm not homeschooling the kids, that I'm not feeding them organic peanut butter. I shouldn't feel bad when Iris has to cry for a few seconds while I finish something up.

I remind myself that God's hand is on my family and he is guiding me and showing me how to be a better mother, wife, friend, sister, daughter. I make mistakes. a lot. But I am a good intentioned person and even I forget that.

Remember Kait, his mercy rains unending love and amazing grace.

So I decided to schedule something, because... I feel a little bit miserable, and I wonder if this is something that's been "haunting" me for a couple of years... I think I'm afraid to go and they'll say, "Nope, this is just who you've become."

It was grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fear relieved.




  1. I don't know much but I do know this: having a baby that is sick at birth or shortly thereafter and dealing with the situation immediately following (or even in the weeks after) giving birth screws with you. It makes what might have been "just" the baby blues take a turn into the darkness.

    For me, I felt like I had lost so much during the days my babies were in the NICU. So many moments where I should have had them all to myself to bond and love and rejoice in their amazingness were stolen. First bath for Kaylen? Someone else did it. First time in an outfit? Someone else did it. Rules about when I could hold and nurse them? Someone else made them. IV lines in and other lines out. Heart monitors, breathing tubes....all of it scarred me far more than I realized. I believe I even made a post about it a couple years ago as I tried to process it all and make sense of what had happened and how it left me feeling inadequate as a mother.

    And, I believe that because of all of it, both times I struggled mightly with PPD. The first one unassisted and unmedicated. Unseen by family, friends or doctors. It took almost a year to feel like I could function...and 7 months to be able to say I loved this amazing little boy I think I believed if I said I loved him, it would go wrong again. The second time I was medicated prior to the birth and still.....deep PPD.

    I looked fine on the outside. I could see the beauty in life and in my babies but I was lost. Alone. Scared. And stuck inside my head and the message was always the same "I'm not good enough. If I'm not careful, something else bad will happen."

    Not good enough? Of course! That had to be it, right? I couldn't keep my babies safe. I placed them squarely in harms way. What about the pregnancies I lost along the way (two)? I couldn't keep those children safe either. Something was my fault....but what?

    As it turns out: nothing.

    Kait - you really should talk with someone. If not a therapist, a trusted person who isn't afraid to call bullshit on your illogical feelings of failing (which don't seem illogical, I know). Someone who can help you see and know that it is ok to grieve for what you lost even when, in the end, you have a beautiful, amazing miracle in your arms and life should be the perfection you dreamed of.

    The best advice I ever received through the births of my children was when I was crying on the way to the OR for an emergency C-section with Kelton (after 37hrs of labor and 2 hours of pushing). She held my hand, locked eyes and said "It's ok to grieve for the birth experience you didn't get to have. Cry and scream. It isn't fair and it's ok to feel it. Just don't lock it away inside you."

    I held onto that in the NICU with him and again, almost 3 years later, in the NICU with a much sicker Kaylen. I needed to grieve for so many lost moments in time.

    A birth is happy. A new baby? Beyond perfection. But you need to grieve for the lost days and the worry and the doctor appointments and the doubts and all that went along with it.

    I'm here is you want to talk. I understand and it's ok. Just talk with people. Talk, talk, talk.

  2. Oooh, I totally had PPD after Vanessa . . . horrible stuff. I got medicated at some point . . . 6 weeks afterwards? I realized that I probably could have been a happier person if I had been taking that medicine even before I got preggers. I stayed on it and it's been so much better. So much better that I'm not embarrassed to admit it anymore.