Monday, May 12, 2014

Being Authentic and Becoming Mindful

It's been two months since my first hospital visit. These past two months have been.... life changing.  And I mean that. I am no longer the same person I was two months ago.  I had become frequently ill starting at the end of January and by the beginning of March I was pretty much confined to my bed.  I had become so dehydrated from 12 plus hours of throwing up and 2 weeks of non stop diarrhea that I passed out on Monday, March 10 on the floor of my bedroom.  I was able to call for help, which came immediately and I was taken to the hospital. They asked me dozens of questions of what my symptoms had been the past several weeks and all the tests commenced.  They hydrated me, pumped me full of meds and sent me home.  All test came back normal. That next week was exhausting. I couldn't do much so I laid in bed and lived off of my doctor ordered diet of saltines and gatorade. I couldn't shower without help, I couldn't walk without someone holding me up because I was so weak and dizzy. I went and saw my midwife to maybe point me in the right direction of what was up with my body. She thought I was going through extreme depression, or thought I had Lupus.  She took some blood to run the test. One week after my first hospital visit I was back again.  This time with extreme pain in every part of body, and I felt like I couldn't breathe.  I had also started vomiting again. Once every 7 minutes. They ran the same tests again, did a few different things to try and figure out what was going on. Hydrated me, pumped me full of meds and sent me home with some Xanax.

I called my midwife and she told me that I had to find a therapist. If I didn't find one within 24 hours she was going to check me into an outpatient facility of 7 days of intensive therapy.  That, of course, scared the crap out of me because it confirmed my suspicions that I was ACTUALLY CRAZY!

Through a newly found kindred spirit, she was able to direct me to a therapist, who I like to call the "keeper of the keys."  I was able to get an appointment with her the very next day.

Within the first 10 minutes of talking with her we figured out why I had become so ill.  It felt like I was in a minefield and all those mines I'd avoided so well my whole life were being stomped on and the debris was hitting me.  I was feeling things I hadn't allowed for myself to feel for 16 years.  These were things I'd never forgotten, but had tucked away in a safe place to protect myself because no one protected me.  I had been abandoned and left to deal with and handle things that no 9 year old should ever of had to deal with.  I was terrified and alone.  And I knew I was going to be alone.  So I put an armor on that would protect me.  I chose to never be scared again and to be strong. Because I had to be.

Near the end of January my sweet, almost 4 year old gave us a huge scare and the doctors thought she had a brain tumor.  Those 4 days of when we rushed her to the hospital to when we actually got the results of the MRI were excruciating.  I was terrified for my sick little girl, and knew if the doctors worries came true then I couldn't protect her from what would happen. I couldn't keep her safe. Fear. So much fear.

My body felt that fear for the first time in 16 years and I broke down. Not just emotionally, but physically.

Imagine a pendulum if you will and on either side is two extremes. One extreme is hyper-intense confidence, strength an absolute non-stop go getter.(This is where I had been from the age of 9-25) The other extreme is complete breakdown, weakness, mind, body, spirit. Everything just stops working.(This is what was happening now)  And the middle of that pendulum is a healthy balance.

So for the past two months I've been working on working my way back to that healthy balance. It's taking a lot of hard work. And I'm becoming somebody I don't recognize, but it's my true, authentic self.  When you swing from one extreme to the other like I have.... the person you've always been, the things you've always done, aren't easy anymore.  You literally can't even do it.  The easiest thing in the world like answering the door..becomes terrifying and you start to panic.  For 6 weeks I couldn't go out alone, unless I was going somewhere I knew would benefit my mind or my body. So therapy and the chiropractor. That was it.  I couldn't talk to anyone except a few people.  I couldn't go to church, I couldn't go out on girl nights, I couldn't talk about what I was going through because it literally took so much energy to tell it and I would become ill.  To avoid having to explain I just stopped going out of my house. My home became my safe haven.  A lot of people didn't understand what was going on and when they were around me why I was acting different.  It's because I'm not the same person and I felt judgement to still be that person.  So until I had self acceptance that this change going on within me was right and it didn't matter what others thought I became a hermit.

I've learned so many beautiful lessons along this journey.

First, I've learned to listen to my body.  I'm learning to trust what it tells me I need. If I'm apart of a conversation that is negative or something my fragile spirit doesn't need, I will leave.  When I start to feel like I'm going to throw up, it means I need to speak or say something.  When I feel like I can't get enough air and feel tightness in my chest it means whomever I'm speaking too, doesn't need to know what I'm telling them.  I learning to honor what my body is telling me.  It is a very powerful tool.

Second, I'm learning about boundaries. My whole life I've put so much energy into things that I never should have.  Feeling responsibility, an obligation to help people see what is right and keep them on a path of righteousness.  Even with people that have hurt me, I felt a constant need to be the protector.  I've learned that the only power we have is our agency.  Agency is something God gave us when we came to this earth and He will never take that away. He won't mess with it, He won't go near it.  So why should I feel like I should?  In therapy I have found  new freedom and strength in taking responsibility of my own power (agency) and mine alone. So I'm creating boundaries, not to keep people out, no.  To love in ways that allow each of us to have our own power.  This has been so profound for me.

Third, I'm learning about emotions in a new way.  It's literally a new way of thinking for me.  Each emotion has value and something to say, but we become better, closer to God I believe, when we can observe them first, instead of reacting to them.  For example; anger.  Anger is a secondary emotion. Always.  Our brain actually feels an emotion or two emotions before anger comes, but we rarely feel that.  So instead of reacting instantly to anger. Stop. Take a step back and observe the anger, don't judge it or try to change it. I've found when I do this, I'm able to better understand what truly is going on and then I can act responsibly.  Anger can actually be helpful when we use it responsibly.

Fourth,  I'm learning to be in a state of mindfulness.  This is extremely difficult. Mindfulness is when you can love, be non judgemental, and compassionate first for yourself, then for others. Then you are able to DISCERN between what's right and wrong, what is good and bad.  Not living in the past, or obsessing over the future, but being in reality and taking care of the now.  This place I have found my "wise self" and she is powerful, and strong and a little fierce. But she has so much love and compassion and knows exactly what I need. Knows exactly what I need to do for others, and in the right time.  This isn't a place where "I SHOULD do this, I SHOULD do that."  No, wise self just knows and just does what is right.  It's a place of clarity and joy.  I jump in and out of the place, because as a human being I will always struggle but in some instances with some people, I'm able to just ask "her" to come and she does.  And she projects joy and love and peace.  I'm learning to feel all these good things for myself.  But also with others. And letting people and things be as they are and just love.

Finally,  I have found gratitude in this journey. I have found gratitude for my trauma and my heartache. Even though it shouldn't of happened, it never would of brought me to this place I am now. Things had to have happened in the way they did.  I know that.  God is continually molding me into somebody better.  He has a grand purpose for me.  He needs me to be ready for that, He needed to give me the "wake up call" in the way He did, or I would not of changed.

As you can tell from my last 3 points, I'm still learning and I always will be.  I have days where I still struggle, some days are really bad.  And I feel like I'm being thrown backwards and I have to retrace my steps somehow and learn something new.  But I'm moving forward. Committed to this new life I've discovered.

I am more unbalanced than ever, because I'm human.

But that.... that is okay.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

My life is an open book....until now.

I've been an open book my whole life to people. I've never had a problem with sharing my struggles. I found it comforting to lean on others for support and often gain insight from those I was sharing with.  I've never consider myself to be private.  Mostly in part, if anything I have struggled can help another person with whatever they're going through, I want to help.  Feeling alone during any struggle or trial is awful. I don't wish it on anyone.

I've gone through massive changes in the last month.  Many of you know how sick I've been. In and out of the hospital. Stuck in bed. Unable to take care of my own kids. I've received an overwhelming amount of support, which I don't even have enough words, the right words, to express how grateful I am. The help we've had wouldn't have been as great, if we didn't live where we do. 

I know what needs to be done for my body and spirit to become whole again. I know what journey I need to take to recover.  The thing is... I am at a really vulnerable state emotionally right now so if opinions or advice is given to me (even out of love and support) it affects me deeply.  I've realized even though intentions are pure from many people who I've spoken too...  Not really anything they say is meant for me.  At least not for this particular journey I'm on. This experience is mine and no one else's, so the things I must do, to progress, are specific and only meant for me.  This past week as I've gained more energy I've spent a lot of time visiting with people, outside of the house.  All of them were positive, supportive experiences.  But I shared too much and that's weighing on me. Emotionally and physically.  For me to get to my end result I no longer will  be sharing the details of what I'm experiencing unless feel prompted to do so.  It's nothing personal towards anyone, it's just not something I need you to be apart of. I appreciate words of support, and hugs and definitely prayers. But if asked, what I'm doing or what's really going on...I will politely give you a vague answer that I'm working on things and getting better.  I, of course am sharing all to my husband.  He has been my greatest support and source of comfort.  He literally can touch me and whatever pain I feel begins to evaporate out of me. It's a beautiful thing. That's what his love for me can do. He's on this journey with me, riding along, protecting me and supporting me when I need him too.

I look forward to be able to share all of this when I've made my way through and come out the other side.  But for now minor seclusion is necessary. Maybe not minor, more than that.  I struggle being in large groups of people. Whether I know them or not. So for awhile I will be MIA.  Working on myself. Moving forward. 

It's strange what the body does to us, to get our attention, almost forcing change upon you.  I know all these changes are for a greater purpose and I have faith in that. 


Saturday, October 5, 2013

This time...

As usual life is happening and I'm doing my best to live it fully.

I have a preschooler. Preschooler P is loving every second of it. She only goes twice a week, but she asks every day if she can go. Over the summer she got a concussion and broke her arm and has become obsessed with Pirates and Mermaids. "The Little Mermaid" was never my favorite movie as a child, that I can recall, and it still isn't. But I frequently find myself humming songs from the movie. It's a little irritating.  I don't know what's come over my independent 3.5 year old but things get tense at our house...and at the grocery store...the park...friend's houses. She has started throwing tantrums again. I realize this is typical toddler behavior but she had been doing so well for so long. It's throwing me for a loop. We but heads a lot, mostly because she's a lot like me. It's probably a good thing I never had a sister.

I also have another toddler. Toddler Man M is 18 months now. This little man is quite possibly the closest to perfect that any kid could get. He sleeps 12 hours plus at night takes a minimum of a 2 hour nap every day. Has never refused any kind of food. Says "thank you" and listens when you tell him to do something. Is this kid really mine?!? Seriously peeps, he's a dream. AND....and he's extremely cute. And snuggles. I'm telling you...perfect.  I hated the new toddler stage with Preschooler P but Toddler Man M is making it so easy and fun.

Hubby said if we could be guaranteed another boy like Toddler Man M, we'd have a bunch more.  Hubby would also be perfectly happy with the two little ones we have now and no more. But I know our family is not yet complete. 

Part of my on going recover with my postpartum has been essential oils. doTERRA essential oils. I found them a little over a year ago. And truth be told they have saved my life. I had just had Baby boy M and moved into our brand new house and I had gone back to my midwife because I was still struggling. She wanted to up my medication. For some reason it didn't sit right with me. I prayed for another way. All I felt was darkness and the earth falling beneath as I walked outside or drove in my car. I couldn't take care of myself let alone my children. I felt like dying. I wanted to die. The thing with this disease is that no one understands it, unless they've been through it. I knew no one going through the same thing that I was and I just wanted to feel nothing. I was at the bottom. Actually beneath the bottom I was underneath about 50 feet of crap.


In that same week that my doctor wanted to up my medication my sister in law contacted me and told me a little bit about essential oils and also sent me some Wild Orange. Or as I like to call it, "my saving grace." This little bottle of citrus oil started me on a path of healing. I went to a class and by the end of it I knew this was the answer to my prayers. So I began my journey. Within six weeks of using essential oils I was off my medication and I was back to my old goofy, happy, social self. 

I still have bad momma days. I still get angry and weepy. I still get anxiety and worry a lot.  But I don't have to handle it without any help.  

I know people are really skeptical about it and I can tell you a bunch of happy go lucky lovliness.  But the truth is you gotta try it to understand it. If you want to learn more email me. I do this business to help you. I don't want another young mother to suffer alone like I did for so long and have nothing to turn too. I can help. Seriously.

kara.sawyer411@gmail.com


yours truly,

the unbalanced, mother of 2, oil junkie



Wednesday, May 22, 2013

The Reality of Motherhood

I haven't written in awhile, because I haven't felt the need too. Postpartum round 2 hasn't been as nasty as round 1. I think my husband would disagree. But if he was in my head I'd like to think he'd applaud at how much I've grown and then probably want to die because of how crazy it really is inside my head.

This is going to be a blunt portrayal of motherhood. I'm not going to apologize if this offends anyone because I would guarantee every mother reading this has experienced the following at some point or even regularly. I don't judge you, so please don't judge.

I seem to go through a hormonal shift every 3 months. Starting at 3 months postpartum. 3..6...9..12..15 and so on.  I go through 7 days of absolute torture, emotionally.  I'm either really sad and depressed or I'm really pissed off.  I'm just pissed this time.

I wake up and I'm just mad. I'm mad that it's 6 freakin A.M. in the morning. I'm mad that I didn't fall asleep until 1:00 A.M. I'm mad that my daughter's voice seems so loud in the morning. I'm mad that I have to let the dog out, and then feed her, play with her and then let her out again.  I'm mad that my husband doesn't get up as fast as I do and that by the time he gets to the kitchen I'm already done getting the kids breakfasts and taking care of the dog. 

Here is the reality of motherhood:

Hushing your 3 year old every 4.6 seconds because she sounds so loud you're afraid it'll wake your other toddler that you had to rock 3 separate times during the night because he doesn't feel good.

Pouring apple juice in your fruit loops because your eyes aren't even open yet...and then eating it because you don't want to waste anything. 

Putting the milk in the pantry instead of the fridge because well, you've gone crazy from exhaustion. 

Cleaning up spilled milk from your 3 year old's lap because she wanted to drink the milk out of the bowl like daddy does.

Going through 6 pairs of panties in one day because she got one tiny drop of pee on her underwear and refuses to wear them.

Never folding laundry and just keeping all the clean clothes in the basket because you hate folding and your just going to have to wash them in about 3 days anyway.

Not showering for 2-4 days because you'd rather sleep than be clean.

Forgetting to brush your teeth for 2 days because that's the last thing on your priorities list.

Going to the park EVERY morning or some sassy diva throws a tantrum.

Locking your children in their rooms so you can take a bath and pretend no one is there....on more than one occasion in the same day....

Seriously contemplating selling your children to the first available bidder.

Forgetting to eat all day and when you do eat it's something full of sugar because a salad does nothing for anybody.

Not cooking for several days ( to several weeks) because it just sucks. So everyone has either cereal, PB&J's, chicken nuggets, or pizza every night.

Having to put chain locks on the doors so your 3 year old stops escaping to the outside world ( I don't blame her though....)

The only songs that are stuck in your head are from Dora The Explorer, Blues Clues, and Tangled.

Singing songs over and over and over again to your 3 year old and switching the line on "wheels on the bus" from "the mommy's the bus go SHH SHH SHH to WAA WAA WAA" Because that's how you're really feeling.

Singing every songs super fast just to get it over with "twinkletwinklelittlestarhowIwonderwhatyouareupabovetheworldsohighlikeadiamondintheskytwinkletwinklelittlestarhowiwonderwhatyouare"

Yelling so loudly your eyes almost pop out of your head.

Setting the timeout timer for WAAY longer than 3 minutes because you want some peace and quiet.

Wearing exercise clothes because you really plan on exercising but than don't get too but keep wearing them all day and when people see you they think "oh good for her exercising with two kids, you go girl!" And even though you didn't, you just thinking that their actually thinking that makes you feel skinnier.

When friends ask you what you did today you say, "Oh, we just had a down day at home." Which REALLY  means, " I haven't showered, the kids had candy all day and watched movies in the living room so I could lay in my bed and watch Friends."

Going to McDonald's 3 times a week because you just don't care anymore.

Waking up 4 times a night because your 3 year old wants to watch movie and just won't go to sleep.

Cleaning poop from INSIDE your 14 months old eye.

Driving to your husband's work with 20 minutes notice that you don't give a crap about his job today and what he needs to do and that you are picking him up and he is coming home with you to save you from jumping off the cliff of insanity. And when he ask's why say, "Because if you don't you will be the first person I kill with my bare hands."

These are all things I've said and done. I've said this a thousand times: Motherhood is noble and joyful but it is rare to ever feel that , it is a feeling the disappears as fast as it comes.  We have to create moments of joy with our children.

My husband asked me this morning after I begged him to stay home, "So when you're feeling like this and you see your friends you're able to put on a happy face and be calm loving, why can't you just do that at home?" The answer is simple. I don't want them seeing me that way and it's easier to be angry at the kids. Not saying it makes it better, because it doesn't. But letting my anger out is easier than trying to be calm and loving when I'm just NOT feeling that way.

When people ask me how is it being a mother, I tell the truth. I say it's what I was meant to do and it's the most wonderful thing I could ever do with my life. I truly believe that, but man, it sucks a lot too. As mad and frustrating and exhausting and awful my life can be as a mother. I wouldn't change it.

yours truly,

the unbalanced, angry, mother of 2.






Friday, October 19, 2012

Victory Confession # 15 & 16

Victory Confession #15 & 16  -Life is a battlefield, and we fight together.


Cheesy line up there right? Ha. I thought it was funny.

Ya know, it's amazing what writing my problems out can do for me. There are a few things it does in particular...

1. It is a release for me to be able to talk (write) about what my struggles are so I can work them out. Almost a physical release like running is.

2. It hold me accountable to what I've committed to do better.
3. The feedback I receive provides me with great support.

I was just telling dear hubby yesterday that I feel like I'm always the one checking in on my friends and making sure they're okay, but no one ever checks on me. I don't expect that from my friends, well maybe I do. Okay, not expect it, just wish for it every once in awhile. I received an out pouring of loves from lots of you. Thanks.

My victory today is two-fold. 

First, today has gone much better than the last month combined. I finally figured something out, that should of been a no-brainer to me months ago but finally had the light bulb moment today.  In my morning prayers I'm constantly asking to be blessed, to help me, me, me..but this morning I changed my tune. This morning I asked, "What do you want me to do for HER?" Not only is she my daughter but she is Heavenly Father's as well. He knows her better than me, and since I am her mother and have stewardship over her, He can help me know what's best for her. 

DONK! (slaps forehead) 

And all day long I felt quiet promptings leading me to be a better momma for my Little P. And she responded wonderfully.  I didn't yell today. Yes, you read that right. Wait,.....did I TYPE THAT RIGHT?!?!

Yes, I didn't yell. I deserve a prize. 

Okay, not a prize.

Maybe a sticker.

Yes, someone mail me a sticker.

Little P was happy and cheerful. She listened and obeyed. We talked a lot and played even more.  I took the time to just be. JUST BE. And she became a completely different little lady.

It was...just...BAHH, it was just great. I feel like dancing. Excuse me.

(doing a little dance.....)

Okay second victory for today.

Dear hubby and I went on a date. It was our first date since BEFORE Baby M arrived. It was so fun.  We laughed over dinner and played hockey with the sugar packets while we waited for our food.  I tried something new, instead of ordering the same thing. He forced me to taste his strawberry milkshake and I didn't like it, but it made my mouth water so much it left me wanting more. So I kept drinking it, even thought I didn't like it. And now I have gas. Because of the strawberries. 

Yes. Strawberries give me gas. 

It's fine.

Once dinner was over I had arranged for us to go horseback riding. Something I haven't done it about 8 years. When we got there, things didn't work out and there weren't any horses. So we went mini golfing instead at this very ghetto outdoor mini golfing place. Where it was full of a bunch of teenagers afraid to hold the other persons hand. 

It was funny.
Watching the awkwardness.

There was a little girl golfing behind us that would whisper every time we were about to putt saying...."I'm helping you by closing my eyes and breathing like this..." and then she would proceed to exhale out her nose very loudly. I got several holes in one. Which never happens. Her helping worked out nicely for me.

It was a wonderful evening and we came home to sleepy but happy children. 

Days like this, make all the bad worth it. And make the future bad days..not so bad.

Oh yeah, the cheesey line at the beginning...

We were leaving the mini golfing place and had to go through a parking garage to get to our car and this was our conversation:

Hubby: this parking garage is weird. they painted it funny colors.
Wifey: I think it's creepy, some man could just come out and attack us. But I'd kick him in the balls.
Hubby: What if it was a women?
Wifey: I'd still kick her down there...there's a bone there it hurts when it gets hit.
Hubby: What if she was wearing a cup?
Wifey: Then I'd punch her in the boob.
Hubby: What if she was wearing protective boob cups?
Wifey: Then I'd pull her hair out.
Hubby: What if her head was shaved?
Wifey: I'd scratch her face with my finger nails and poke her in the eyes.
Hubby: What if she had protective gear all over her head?
Wifey: Then I'd knee her in the gut.
Hubby: What if that area was protected too?
Wifey: Then I'd tackle her and fart in her face and run her over with the car for good measure.
Hubby: *long pause* Well, you've just thought of everything haven't you?
Wifey: Um, yeah I'm not going to let someone take advantage of me like that.
Hubby: You know I'd help you right?...if you needed it.
Wifey: I know.

For some reason I thought of that line when he offered his help. 

He told me yesterday,after he read my post, he was grateful I was fighting so hard to be a better momma and that I could count on him for anything.

This is true love my friends.


Yours truly,

the unbalanced, mother of 2, and victorious for a day.




Thursday, October 18, 2012

Confession #21 I have anger issues

Confession #21: I have anger issues, and not proud of it

Growing up I never struggled with depression or anger.  I did have the occasional frustrated outbursts as a highly hormonal teenager but what girl doesn't when they're 16 and don't get their way?

I had anxiety too, but again, when someone spreads an untrue rumor, that no one would ever believe, about you any 17 year old would be on edge a little bit.

Before becoming a mother I couldn't even comprehend how women could feel depressed or have, what felt like life threatening anxiety attacks, out of the clear blue.  Or feel complete rage at the flip of a switch. I didn't understand and I thought something was wrong with them. I thought they were bad mothers.  How could you feel such things, when you have such a beautiful and precious little person that you created?

You don't know what it's really like, or even understand a little bit until it's you and you're the one experiencing it.  It's horrible. Once it's over you feel guilty and ashamed. You feel like a bad mother. And those that don't understand think you're a bad mother too..because I thought that before I really knew.

I have this INCREDIBLE 2 1/2 year old daughter that everyone that knew me growing up says she is my mini me. She is independent and stubborn.  She is a picky eater and hasn't stopped loving her baby brother for one second.  She hits other kids when she doesn't get her way, she plays dress up with my shoes every day of the week.

But there are days where I don't like her.  I don't like her at all.  Sometimes all I hear her do is whine, constantly whine.  And all I do is yell at her. Like, really yell. Lately she is testing her boundaries. She's doing everything that she knows she not suppose too and seeing if she'll still get disciplined.  It's been a tough month in this house.  I feel like I'm always yelling.  I feel like I'm always putting her in time out, or sending her to her room.  She knows how to talk, she just refuses  to use her words or obey the rules so she cries and cries and keeps on crying.

I struggle with her everyday.  I get to a point where I don't want to be around her. She comes into a room and I just want to leave it because I know she just wants to whine to me about something.

I can't change the fact that I've yelled at her at the top of my lungs and probably have shaken my house. I can't change what I've done in the past, despite being ashamed and feeling sorry. But I can change what I do today and tomorrow.  It's really hard. Most times...okay, all the time it's easier for me to yell at her and just be angry. Even though I should just love her and be calm. I realize that will take time for her to respond too and it's better for everybody. But it's plain hard.

I but I need to try. I want to.  

I feel like I'm constantly trying to stay calm and taking deep breaths and counting to 10 or whatever. I really want to be one of those mom's where my kids grow up and say, "Mom, never yelled. She was always so loving."  I'm hoping Little P doesn't remember being 2.

My 40 year old self constantly reminds me to slow down and savor each moment. To take time to just be with my children. To be more loving and soft spoken. To be joyful about my life. Because it's pretty darn good.

You hear about other people's struggles in their lives and you always think, " Man, I'm glad I don't have their troubles. I'll keep my own."  My dad reminds me of this often. It makes me more grateful for what I have and the things I struggle with.

So, keep trying to be better....and then try some more.

Yours truly,

the unbalanced, mother of 2


Thursday, August 23, 2012

Confession #21 : Life is a roller coaster

Confession #21: Life is a roller coaster and I don't like the roll.....

I've been MIA for months now. I don't have a reason, because well... I just don't.  My baby boy is 5 months and 15 pounds and my Little Lady is 2.5 years old and 24 pounds.

We recently moved into a brand new house, which is our first home. We bought a dog and then sold a dog. We've had concussions, stitched up fingers, severely constipated babies, fat lips, potty training accidents, fire evacuations, grand parents visiting, aunts and uncles visiting, great grand parent funeral, weight gain, weight loss, expensive dental appointments, fights, melt downs, throw up... we've had it all the last 4 months.

I did rather well the first 3 months and then something changed hormone-wise and I went a little crazy. I was crying all the time, depressed, irritated.  I up-ed my dosage on my anti-depressant and things started to get better.  And yet I still struggle.  Close to the end of Phase 1 of my PPD I remember thinking how, "I'd made it!" and it a sense I did. But you don't fully know what the future holds until you are experiencing it. 

I'd say Phase 2 has been hard, just in a different way.  Last time my frustration was directed toward my hubby. This time its towards Little Lady P. I know she is only 2.5 and she is an innocent little child. But another part thinks she understands what I say, so she should know better. That's what makes it so hard. 

I've been on pretty regular running schedule.  Haven't seen much of a change in my body, which puts a damper on my mood. But I always feel better when I'm done.  I'm hoping to find even more balance so that I don't plummet randomly and make it harder on my family. This time has been different and I feel like I'm missing something. I'm doing everything I did last time that helped, minus the counseling, maybe I should try that again.  It's nice to get off your chest the things that irritate you to someone who's feelings won't get hurt because of what you're saying.

On a lighter note, I'm very grateful for my moments of clarity.  They always happen at the same time everyday. Now that word right there, everyday, is very rare for a mother when you're talking about something positive. The things that happen everyday are usually things you wish wouldn't happen everyday. Like, tantrums, bad attitudes, repetitive questions, pee-pee accidents on your brand new carpet, waking up too early, refusal to eat vegetables..you get the jist...But as I lay in my bed at night, I have an overwhelming rush of gratitude, peace and satisfaction. That I have healthy children who are hopefully making me into a better mother/wife/woman. A loving husband who provides for us, a beautiful, safe, new home. And the knowledge of something greater then ourselves. A Heavenly Father that loves us perfectly, and a Savior who knows us better than we know ourselves. A blessed life is the best life.  

These simple and perfect moments of clarity, make the rolls of life easier to ride out.

Yours truly,

the unbalanced woman