Let your humanity show

I started this blog because I love to write and I needed an outlet to vent my frustrations about myself, society, motherhood, and life in general. I've continued to blog in an effort to raise awareness about mental health, specifically anxiety and depression. I've tried to be very transparent about my struggles because I think too often we report the good things online, hiding the bad or suffering alone. The more I talk to people, the more I am convinced that everybody has fought feelings of inadequacy, anxiety and depression whether momentarily or chronically. I am the latter. 

I would like to stand before you today as a whole, complete person who has overcome postpartum depression. Someone who can offer support, resources and hope. But I can't. I'd like to look back on my time as a new mom and say I did it, this is what helped me and you can do it too. But I can't yet. My last visit to my psychiatrist made it glaringly obvious that I am still in the midst of this trial. There is no cure for mental illness, only treatment. Which is so crushingly painful to bear. Knowing that I may always struggle with depression and anxiety, I may always have bouts of wellness interspersed by periods of depression. The things that make it easier to bear are medication and the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I have found anti-anxiety medication, anti-depressants,and anti-psychotic medication to be essential to my wellness. I've been on Buspar, an anti-anxiety, for about six years now. I hemmed and hawed about taking a pill for a long time, weighing the pros and cons and trying to come to grips with having anxiety. I didn't realize how much anxiety was affecting my life until I found relief from it. Learning more about anxiety and the brain has helped me realize I've had panic attacks since childhood. I was lucky enough to find relief in the first pill I tried which isn't always the case. Medication can be such a trial and error process between dosage, side effects and insurance, it can seem like it isn't worth it. For me, it has been. With medication my anxiety is tempered and I'm able to relax and live life more fully. 

I've been on an anti-depressant for 3 years now. After Hazel was born, Zoloft helped obliterate the dark thoughts and overwhelming sadness. I've talked to many women who experienced these "baby blues" being tempered by anti-depressants. The common theme among them is they wish they had known it was normal and that medication would help immensely. In some countries doctors, including psychiatrists, make home visits during the immediate postpartum period to offer support and education to recovering mothers. I would like to see this implemented in the United States. So many of us face this scary time alone and it doesn't have to be that way. I continue to take a high dose of Zoloft but hope to cut back on it because it revs up my nervous system and makes my anxiety higher. For me, wellness is such a delicate dance between brain chemistry and medication. I was doing well for a month or two but when I found out the anti-psychotic I'm on was likely the cause of my unusual weight gain, my psychiatrist suggested I try to wean off of it slowly. It's hard to realize I was doing well because of medication and that I may need it for the rest of my life. I'm hoping to get on another anti-psychotic, one that doesn't cause weight gain, and to do well with a lower dose of Zoloft. But I'm realizing these things take time to sort out and I need to be patient with myself. So for those of you who are anxious, depressed or more than a little crazy, I'm right there with you. Let's find wellness together. 

To find out more about the gospel of Jesus Christ and how it has helped me stay strong in the midst of mental illness click here.

You are not alone

When I had Hazel, I had so many doubts. Doubts about myself as a mother, my ability to do the right thing, my efforts to care for this vulnerable little person. My doubts were ever present but not always at the forefront of my thoughts. It was like having an old, hideously ugly great aunt staying with me. I didn't want to interact with her or really even look her way but I had to, she's a part of my family and therefore a part of me. And sometimes she was so demanding! Right in my face, all warty and wrinkly with foul smelling breath. She would block out everything else, all other thoughts, desires, actions. I would be completely consumed by her presence. But sometimes I could keep her in my peripheral vision, just on the outskirts of my awareness. And I would think, "This isn't so bad, I can handle this." As long as I didn't look at her, I could almost forget she was there. But late at night or after a day filled with crying, pooping and isolation, she would be right in my face again, haunting me with racing thoughts and dark feelings.
If you have struggled with this, even if you don't struggle all the time, I'm here to tell you two things: you are not alone and there is help for you. 
Before I had kids, I had no idea how taxing a newborn could be. I'd never been so sleep deprived, so stretched to my limits and so worried. I would see other moms taking care of numerous children and think I was inferior in some way because one baby was so hard for me. In America we value independence almost above all else and sometimes it can be to our detriment. I'm realizing now that it really does take a village to raise a child. I cannot possibly be everything for my kids, they need other responsible adults in their lives in order to grow up and be well adjusted people. I have loved living by family, it has eased some of the immense burden of child rearing. If you don't live by your family, I suggest you build a network of friends who can love and support you and your children. We really do need each other. Tim always says economies of scale work well with child care. Also, don't forget you have a loving Heavenly Father who is rooting for you and will send angels down to buoy you up. (Motherhood: An Eternal Partnership with God.) I remember a talk by Elder Holland in which he said "Christ knows better than all others that the trials of life can be very deep and we are not shallow people if we struggle with them." (An High Priest of Good Things to Come, Elder Holland, October 1999) He is there for you always, pray to Him for help and He will not let you down.
In regards to getting help, you have to ask. Nobody can read your thoughts (you probably wouldn't want them to anyway) and you can seem surprisingly put together even when you're coming apart at the seams inside. You aren't doing anybody any favors by pretending you're fine when you're really struggling. So be honest when people ask you how you're doing. Say things like "I'm not getting any sleep and nursing is so painful." I've been surprised how empathetic and helpful people can be when they know you're suffering. When people offer to help you, tell them what they can do. I used to hate it when people would say "Call me if you need anything." Because I didn't think they really meant it. Well, most of the time they really do want you to call, they may want to help but aren't sure how. Don't feel like you're putting anybody out by asking someone to come over and hold your baby while you shower or take a nap or get out of the house. People love babies, especially other people's babies. And don't worry that something will go wrong, most women have raised children to adulthood with little to no tragedies. Your baby will not stop breathing the minute you leave the house, she probably won't even notice you are gone. Plan breaks when you are doing well. I'm terrible at this. I wait until I can't stand one more minute of crying, pulling, demanding baby behavior and then I try to call someone. It's incredibly frustrating when you're so frazzled and you can't get a hold of anybody to come help you. So plan to take time for yourself before you're at your wits end. If you have more than one kid, farm them out to several people. They'll love playing with friends and you'll be a better mom because of the break. And don't worry about not being able to reciprocate child care. I felt guilty about this for months. I didn't want to trade with any of my friends because I was having a hard enough time with my own children, let alone adding some one else's kids in the mix. Also, I didn't trust myself with other people's kids, I wouldn't want someone struggling with postpartum depression to watch my kids so I got comfortable being on the receiving end of service. I know my turn will come again to be on the giving end of service but for now, I need a lot of help.
I hope you can benefit from my insights, experiences and testimony of Jesus Christ. I love reading your comments and feeling your support. Thanks for reading my thoughts.
PS- I just found this Ted Talk that speaks volumes about depression. It's by a teenager named Kevin Breel and it's entitled Confessions of a Depressed Comic.

This is the way we go to church

We moved! On a Saturday morning and we ambitiously planned on attending church the next day in our new ward. Tsk, tsk, we should have known better. It was a disaster! We found our ward boundaries and meeting time online but start time was 1:00 and sacrament was listed as starting at 4:00 which doesn't make sense in the 3 hour block we're used to so we decided we'd just show up at 1:00 and see what we could find out. So we have all morning to prep for church and 1:00 sneaks up on us way too fast! I think I spent all morning raiding boxes looking for something suitable to wear, times three. I unwittingly unpacked all my skinny clothes first so not only did I strike out on finding a dress numerous times, I'm not feeling great about myself at this point. At 12:45 I've finally found a dress that will work but it's as wrinkly as an old man so I pull out the iron. I can hear Tim changing the baby while the girls run wild in the hallway trailing tights and hair bows oh ya and my hair's still wet. Talk about stress! So we get the kids dressed and sufficiently groomed for public and we shoo everyone to the van and we're on our way to church but we're not positive it's our church we're relying heavily on lds.org to lead us to the right ward. We park and get everyone unbuckled, unloaded and on our way inside. I was carrying the baby while Tim patiently herds the girls inside. I take a few deep breaths so I don't feel so frazzled. I peek my head in the chapel to look for a spot to sit and it's packed. There isn't any room in the foyer either. There's no where to sit at all and there's no way we can keep our kiddos contained in the hallway. At this point I wanted to throw in the towel and just go home (really I've felt that way all along but I tried to put on a brave face for the children). So we walk around the church hoping to catch a seat in the foyer on the other side, nope, also full. Every seat in the house seems to be taken. The deacons come out with the sacrament at this point and offer the bread to us. Sure, I think, we can do this, Tim's got the girls, I'll just shift the baby to my other hip, hike the diaper bag up on my shoulder again and I take the bread. #2 child takes a handful and #1 puts some back, no big deal right? Probably happens all the time. I give Tim a defeated look and whisper "let's go, we can try again next week." He chats with a few people in the hall to make sure we're in the right place before we head out. We aren't. Our ward is in class right now, not sacrament. They do it old school with sacrament last. At this point there is no way I have the energy or patience to find nursery, priesthood, the mother's room and Relief Society and get everyone where they need to be for the next 2 hours. Plus, I'm sweating like a high school wrestler and my feet are killing me because I never wear heels except to church. So we agree we'll find out where classes meet so we know where we're supposed to be next week and then we'll head home. Priesthood, Relief Society, mother's room, senior nursery, junior nursery and we're on our way out the door! But not before the baby pukes all over me. In my hair, on my dress, all over himself, it's called projectile vomiting for a reason folks. It may have even gotten on the floor, I didn't check, I just scuttled out to the van as quickly as I could. We got everyone buckled back in their seats and headed home.

After this crazy experience, I can see why some people do not attend church. It's a pain, it's hard being new and not knowing anybody. Who really cares if you go to church anyway? Well, I care. I go to church because I love the Lord and I believe He has asked it of me. I know attending our 1:00 ward will be a challenge with a baby and 2 toddlers. Come 2:50 when we head into sacrament, I'll probably want to pull out my hair rather than wrestle with my kids for another hour and 10 minutes. But I will do it because of my conviction that it's the right thing to do and I and my family will be blessed by the Lord for our obedience. 

But I sure hope next week goes more smoothly. Any tips?

How I gained 40 lbs and what I learned

I love reading stories of people who have lost a ton of weight by drastically changing their lifestyles and eating habits. This is the opposite of that. My before and after pictures are me, and me +45 pounds. I can't even claim that I never lost the baby weight in between pregnancies because I did, every last pound. I gained 26 pounds with my first baby and I had lost all of it in 7 months just by breast-feeding. (And just in time to get pregnant again.) I honestly don't even remember my second pregnancy very well. I was pretty sick, didn't gain very much weight and lost it all before my 3rd pregnancy. I think I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight by the time #2 was about 10 months old. I was on a "headache free" diet from Eat to Live by Dr. Joel Fuhrman. I thought my migraines were diet related, little did I know I was experiencing the migraine clusters associated with pregnancy, baby #3 was on his way! At first I was so sick. Not nauseous but light headed, I passed out several times during the next few months. My kind mother-in-law came and took care of my kids while I slept. We knew something had to give. Tim loved his job, we were building a beautiful home in Billings, but I couldn't function. I was still having suicidal thoughts and I was irritated and angry all the time let alone too nauseous and dizzy to stand up. Tim was afraid to leave me home alone. We had talked about moving to Utah after living in Billings for a few years. We wanted to raise our kids close to family. When we found out we were pregnant again we decided to speed up the process. It was really hard to know Tim was sacrificing a great job because I couldn't take care of our family, I needed help. The next few months were so hard. Thinking about that time in our lives still makes me really sad. I loved my kids, I wanted so desperately to be a good mom but I couldn't go it alone anymore. Physically and emotionally I needed an extensive support group. So we moved in with my parents and Tim stayed in Montana for the next 5 months. And I started eating. More of everything but especially treats. Sugar was my reward at the end of a long and stressful day. Ice cream, brownies, cookies, oh how I love cookies! Eating and sleeping were my hobbies and really the only things I did for months. My mom took care of my kids or they watched tv for hours. I steadily gained more and more weight. When I was bored, I ate, when I was stressed, I ate, when I missed my husband and our life together, I ate. It was a cure all. I always felt better with some sugar in my system and I didn't feel guilty because I was supposed to gaining weight, I was pregnant. Eating was the only thing that made me feel better and I had an incessant appetite. I blamed it all on the pregnancy, it happens, I didn't have time to worry about it or really even think about it. I got bigger everywhere, I had to keep buying clothes because my maternity clothes didn't fit anymore.
I know it's not uncommon to gain 45 pounds during a pregnancy, but it was really hard for me. I went to a Zumba class the other day in an effort to get back in shape and it was just depressing. I've never not liked my reflection before, I didn't want to be that chubby girl. But I refuse to feel bad about myself. This is what I've learned, weight is only one aspect of me. Sure, I'm uncomfortable with the way I look right now but that discomfort only goes so far as to motivate me to eat well and exercise. I will fight off any feelings of guilt or shame. My body is amazing! I have been able to create 3 humans with my amazing body. So, if your muffin top is getting you down, try harder to love your body, all of it. Bodies come in all shapes and sizes and no one else's is quite like yours.