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 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

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Confession #20 - One month of Exhausting Joy

Confession: It's been a month of exhausting joy.

I've recently been hit with a 2 by 4 of overwhelming reasons to be joyful about my life as a mother.  A few of those reasons happen to be two friends of mine lost their sweet baby girls.  One of them passed away the day after my sweet Baby M was born and the other just happened this past Wednesday.  

I haven't been able to get these two sweet families out of mind and wishing there was something I could do or say to take their pain away. I'm sure they're grateful for the words of comfort those they know have offered and the service done on their behalf.  But I can't help but think how hard this has been for them.  My prayers are filled with their names each night, praying for peace and mended hearts as they continue here on earth while their sweet angels watch over them.

Because of this I have promised to be a more grateful mother.  

My Baby Boy M had just come to this earth when I heard about Baby girl C and I squeezed him tight and was grateful I got to take him home from the hospital. 

When I heard about Baby girl H and her passing, it was later in the evening while I was trying mightily to get Baby M back to sleep and I was over come with the grateful feeling that I could experience such exhaustion. Because my sweet friend will never be able to feel that.  I was grateful I could be so tired for such a wonderful, healthy miracle in my life.

It's been one month today that I've been the mother of my two sweet little ones.  I'm going to honest....

I've been doing really well.  I'm rather in shock at how well, emotionally, I've been doing.  And I keep waiting for things to plummet and to go dark.  But I've been keeping steady.  I'm not in uncharted waters with having a newborn, I've done this once before and so I feel like I know what to expect.  As for Little P, I'm constantly experiencing new things with her that test my patience and temper, and also get to have proud momma moments when she yells, "LOVE YOU" over the breakfast table just because. Or when Baby M cries and I don't hear him she'll come tell me because she really loves her baby brother.

This whole mommy thing sure is sweet.

I'm sweetly reminded each time I get to stare into BOTH my little ones baby blue eyes, that these two angels aren't just mine, but their Heavenly Father's too and He's trusting me with them... I gladly leave the piles of laundry, and the dirty dishes, and the diaper covered floor alone and take time for my children.

I hope you can have these sweet moments and savor them. It's quite wonderful.

Yours truly,

the unbalanced, grateful, mother of two.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Confession #19 : Exhaustion at its finest.

Confession: I'm exhausted.

Well I've survived 2 weeks.  I can say that week 2 has been way easier then week 1.  I was completely depressed the first week. Mostly because I still hated how things happened with the c section and how badly my body ached. Now that I'm doing better physically, my emotional state is starting to even out a little bit. I still don't like that I had a c section and NEVER want to experience it again, it's over and one with and I have my baby boy here.

Baby M has been having loads of gas issues.  We took him into the doc yesterday because his breathing became different and he wouldn't stop crying. With the use of an x-ray machine we discovered that he has an unusually large amount of gas filling his intestines and causing him lots of pain.  So, he is now on gas drops.  Last night was rough because he still has his days and nights mixed up and his tummy hurt. I was up with him from about 2-6am trying to comfort him.  Then at 7am Dad took over and for a solid hour was a farting machine and after he ate his breakfast, he had a huge poopie explosion all over me and our bed.  I wasn't even a little bit irritated that I had to wash everything that early in the morning, I was just grateful he pooped.  I found myself saying, "way to go!" and "keep it up!" every time he tooted.  You don't realize how important gas and pooping is, until you can't anymore.  Poor little man.  Today has been much better, he hasn't been as fussy and he's sleeping more comfortably it seems.

I'm amazed at what the human body can do on only a few hours of sleep and despite being up all night, having a headache that won't go away, an insanely messy house, a itchy rash ( on my incision) that won't go away either, a massive amount of poop covered laundry to do and a flabby body that I won't be able to work on for months....  I'm just happy watching my little guy sleep in his swing and Little P watching Thomas the Train.

I'm totally exhausted and I don't really care that I am.  

In other news.  I'm an aunt!  There are loads of nieces and nephews on hubby's side of the family but until recently my two little ones were the only ones to fill up grand baby slots on my side.  Sweet little Baby A came early Monday morning to my brother and sister in law and she is gorgeous. Just like her mama.  She's definitely got "the cheeks".  She isn't alone in that though, my Little P has them too. Baby Boy M got away with that one and inherited his Daddy's slimmer facial features.

Still taking things one day at a time.  Although it really feels one minute at a time.

And I'm grateful for healthy children. And little baby toots.

Yours truly,

the unbalanced, exhausted, mother of 2, woman.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

A Birth Story

Baby M's Birth Story

Well, it's happened. I'm a mother of 2.  It hasn't hit me yet, it all seems a little unreal.  But let me tell you how he got here....

At my 38 week appointment I was actually in the hospital because I was having regular contractions and my midwife just did the appointment before I went home that night because my baby boy wasn't coming yet.  We found out that night that he was transverse (sideways) and not head down.  I immediately panicked thinking I'd have to get a c section..  But my midwife was confident that with doing some stretches on my own at home that we could successfully get him turned.  So, for the next week that's what I did.  I did everything my midwife recommended, and found more things on the internet to try.  I was a complete mess all week because I wanted him to turn so badly and I couldn't focus on anything else.  

Wednesday came around (the 21st) at my 39 week check up and viola! He was head down, I cried laying there on the table because I was so relieved.  I was scheduled to do a version the next morning to get him turned, which I didn't need to do anymore, and then they would start my induction.  I was also 2cm dilated which made me even more excited that things would go smoothly the next morning and my baby boy would finally be here.

I came home that afternoon and still did my stretches just to make sure he stayed right where we wanted me too.  We dropped Little P off at a friend's house for the night since the induction was schedule so early in the morning. My mom was headed out from Iowa and I was a happy clam.  We went to bed early that night to get a full nights rest for our big day.  At midnight I woke up with contractions about 10 minutes apart.  I didn't think much of it because this had been happening for several days and nothing came of it.  So I'd fall asleep for 10 minutes in between each one.  Then at 3 am they became closer together.  I decided to get up and move around, drink some water, sit on my exercise ball and then I eventually showered at about 4:30am.  The shower helped the most but the contractions didn't lessen at all.  I was getting kind of excited that my body was doing its thing all on its own and hopefully that meant things were going to go super fast once I got to the hospital.

I got out of the shower and the contractions started coming about 3 minutes apart and they hurt.  I had to breath through them and stop what I was doing every time I got one.  I called my midwife to let her know what was going on and see if I should go into the hospital early.  Well the answering service I called took down the wrong number and I waited for an hour to hear back from her. So after lots of confusion I got a hold of her and she told me to go to the hospital right away.  I had woken dear hubby up at this point and he was showered and got everything in the car.  We headed for the hospital at 5:45am.  When I got there I could barely breathe in between each contraction and they quickly got me admitted and into a bed.  Once I got into bed they check me and brought the ultrasound machine in to make sure hew as still head down.  I was dilated to a 4 almost 5cm and the nurse could feel feet! NOT A HEAD!  I, of course fahhh-reaked out and started crying.  Hubby just held my hand and told me everything was going to be fine.  

So, after an hour of breathing through contractions that were coming extremely fast and then finding out that the ultrasound machine was broke and trying to find a new one I was exhausted.  My midwife arrived and she checked me again and I was at 7!  There was panic everywhere in the room and it seem about a dozen people were coming and going constantly.  They decided to go ahead with the C section and I just couldn't help but cry.  This is not what I wanted.  

Once they poked me a million times to get my I.V started they wheeled me into the operating room and got me set up to get my spinal block.  Once that was done it was almost instantaneous that I felt relief and numbness through my whole body.  It was the most comfortable I'd been my whole pregnancy and I took that moment to come to terms with getting a c section and calm myself down.  

They had a mirror in the room so you could see what was going on before they pulled the curtain up by my head.  I was strapped down to a table and completely naked.  I was rather horrified that all my lady parts were being exposed under a bunch of bright lights.  

Once they pulled the curtain up all I did was look at hubby, whiled he stroked my hand and face.  They told me I would feel a lot of pressure when they were taking the baby out but I honestly felt nothing.  He immediately cried as soon as his head was out and they took him to get cleaned off and checked out.  I was able to see him the whole time and I just watched and cried and prayed, prayers of gratitude that he was here. I don't know how long we were in there, but it felt like forever before I could hold my Baby M.  At one point during the process of being stitched up I started to feel extremely light headed and sick.  One of the doc's came over and asked how I was feeling and I said I didn't feel very good. He proceeded to tell me that my uterus was currently OUTSIDE my body to get stitched up.  I have no idea why I didn't ask why they were doing that at the time, and wished I would of said something.  He reassured me that once it was back in my body I'd feel better.  "Well, uh thank mister. I sure hope so."  Was all I could think. 

Once they were finished they moved me into my recovery room and hubby brought me my baby boy.  I mostly just felt relief that it was all over and that I wasn't pregnant anymore... but to my surprise that was just the start of everything.

My recovery has been rough.  I went home after 3 days mostly because hubby couldn't stand it at the hospital anymore and I was hoping I'd feel loads better once I was home in my own bed.  

We are one week postpartum and I guess I'm feeling okay.  Yesterday was rough. I cried most of the day in the solitude of my room with Baby M sleeping away in his bed and Little P with my mom watching movies and playing.  I just have this overwhelming fear that my body will never go back to normal and that once I do start feeling a little better and all my help is gone that I just won't be able to handle being a mother of 2.  I vented my fears and frustrations to  hubby and he very tenderly told me to just take one day at a time. "Don't worry about tomorrow or the next day, don't worry about next week or next month. Just today. That's all you need to do."  he said.

As simple as that was it made me feel a lot better.  He even addressed other issues I mentioned without prompting him to help me.  I think it was the first time he's ever done that.  It gave me a great sense of confidence in myself, knowing he had confidence in me and was willing to help me along the way.  After my little sob fest, we decided to get out of the house.  My mom kept the baby while we went to a park and let Little P run out all her energy. I sat in the car and watched as she chased Hubby around and as she daringly went down all the "big' slides by herself and then clapped and yelled for Daddy to go down them too.  We also stopped at the grocery store and hubby let me get some donuts, and a Redbox Dvd and he surprised me by buying a "Dad's orange cream soda" My favorite.

Today has been much better. I've moved around a lot more and tried to get a few things done just to feel productive.  I know there will be much harder days ahead.  But right now, I'm only going to worry about today.  

Excuse me while I go help Little P hold Baby M because she's been asking all day.

Yours truly,

the unbalanced, in recovery, mother of 2, woman.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Victory Confession #14 - Phase 2- Getting Stronger

Victory Confession: Phase 2 of my PPD and getting stronger already.

I've been on my medication for 7 weeks now.  I'm not really sure what I was expecting by taking my medication early or how it would help me this time around.  Especially since I started taking it before things even got to a point where it was hard.  I am a mere week in a half (or less) away from having my Baby Boy M in my arms forever.  

I realize things are going to change once he gets here and that's where I'm really going to see if this medication is helping, but so far I've been doing great.  There is just a natural emotionally taxing part about the END of pregnancy. You ache everywhere, you feel huge, no sleep, uncomfortable no matter where you sit or lay down. All you want is the baby OUT and out NOW!  I've definitely been feeling all of the above but compared to my first end of pregnancy experience I don't feel like I've been as emotional.  I remember crying every single night before bed that I hadn't had my baby yet for the last 2-3 weeks of my pregnancy.  I've only done that ONCE so far.  Emotionally and physically I'm ready to have this baby there is no doubt about it but I have a sense of content that he'll come at his own time.

Truly, the only thing I've been worried about is how Little P will handle all this change.  I know I've been making things out to be worse then they will probably end up being.  And she always surprises me with how well she transitions into a new phase of life.  I feel so blessed that things have gone so smoothly with her in our 2 short years together.

I've also been feeling grateful for supportive friends and family. Namely my mother, two wonderful Iowa natives that know me inside and out, not to mention such wonderful mothers and a newer friend that I told you about here awhile ago and could NOT have survived our first year here without.

My mother. Oh my lanta.  I call her everyday and tell her the same things and whine and complain and every time without fail she offers sympathy and reassurance.  I've always been open with my mom about everything and she always know the exact thing I need to hear.  I hope I can be that same way for my children.

My Iowa girls.  I get rather personal on this blog but using names isn't one of them since this is a public blog that anyone can read I do like to have some discretion. These two ladies have been so great, especially these last couple of months.  They have been emotionally supportive and just plain old fun. Lady M has been in my corner since her and I were 4. We've experienced our whole lives together.  There isn't much we don't know about each other.  She just became a new momma about 8 weeks ago to the THEE most charming little boy in the world and might I add the easiest baby I've ever been around. Never heard the boy cry and he sleeps a lot! Already I can see what a champion his mother is and will continue to be.  Lady K is such an example to me of a great mother.  Her set of challenges seem to have come all at once and she handles them with such fire and grace. She's always there to give me a good laugh and tell me to keep on going.

And my newest friend that I met shortly after we moved here has literally been my life-raft on my hardest days.  I don't even know how to explain the gratitude I've felt for her unwavering friendship and shoulder to cry on.  I would of drown without her this passed year and know I've found a life-long friend.

Minus my mother, these ladies and I got together yesterday for a lunch as my last social HOO-RAH before I become a mother of 2.  We talked and laughed and laughed and laughed.  The restaurant was completely full when we got there and two hours later we all realized we were the only people left and making lots of noise.  It was exactly what I needed.

There is one thing I've learned since I've become a mother that all other mothers need to know and learn.  Even those women reading this that haven't become mothers yet...Heck, even if there are some men reading this who will one day be the companions of these future mothers you should know this too....

Having other mothers in your life is essential.  Creating a bond with them will pull you through.  I've been grateful to know I'm not the only one that feels like I'm going completely crazy most days and sometimes don't even want to be a mom on the hardest days.  So you current mothers: let's come together.  You future mothers: we're here when you need us. Fathers and husbands: encourage her, help her, sympathize with her and accept her. 

Hopefully you'll hear from me shortly with a short VICTORY post about my new little man.


the pregnant, unbalanced, and stronger woman.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Confession # 18 - Finding the JOY is hard

Confession: Finding the JOY in motherhood is hard.

Hi, friends.  I'm writing you from within the walls of my daughter's bedroom, while sitting on an exercise ball. Little P is coloring a turtle on one of the many children's app's I have on my phone.  Finding Nemo is playing in the background. There is a load of laundry running, a pile of dishes in the sink, an endless amount of lego's scattered across the entire upstairs and Baby boy M is wiggling around in my tummy like he's trying to squirm his way out like there's no tomorrow.

We had a great lesson at church yesterday in Relief Society. It was a good, and swift kick in the pants for me as I have been miss complainy pants these last few months of pregnancy.  We talked/learned about finding the Joy in motherhood.  I'm learning along with every other mother in the world how to this.  Especially on a daily basis.  Bringing children into the world is a beautiful thing. Plain and simple.  It's a huge responsibility becoming a parent.  And IT IS a noble one.  But the truth is, I don't feel that all the time. I don't feel it everyday or even every week.  In fact, I rarely feel it, if ever.

This whole mommy thing isn't a picnic. It's hard, exhausting, messy and emotionally draining.  But, I've learned..since I'm not blessed with feeling that nobility 24/7.  I have to find it.  I have to create opportunities to let it feel me up. I need to stop..and stop often and just soak in my Little P.  Soak in her baby powder smell and kiss her chubby cheeks. Look into her big blue eyes. Wipe away her alligator tears when she doesn't get her way.Laugh that she runs everywhere she goes and never walks.  Be proud of her independence and fierceness.  Cherish every cheesy grin and slobbery kiss.  Let her use the word "boy" for puppy just because it sounds cute.  Let her snuggle me for the millionth time at night even though it's waaay passed her bedtime.  Embrace the fact that she wants to be with me every second of the day, whether I'm sitting on the toilet peeing for the 8th time that morning, doing my makeup or crying in my bedroom because another 5 of my shirts won't go over my stomach.

These moments are what make it worthwhile and make it completely exhilarating to be a mother.  Because Little P is my first kiddo she'll be the one  I have all my "mommy firsts" with.  And I'm grateful it's this crazy girl.  

As I sit here in her room looking at all her several pairs of shoes, her million stuffed animals, her obnoxiously loud, musical toys, the scattered lego's and the crumbs of cereal EVERYWHERE.  I realize this is my joy.  There is a difference between happiness and joy. Happiness is temporary. It's great. But it doesn't always last.  But joy, that is eternal.  Just like my Little P and wiggling Baby Boy M.  I have them forever.  Nothing is more joyful then that.


the pregnant, unbalanced and joyful woman.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Confession # 17 - It begins again.

Confession # 17-  It begins again.

Well the journey to continue to overcome my trials continues when it comes to motherhood.  As I suspected, this pregnancy, just like the last one has been very taxing on my mind, and my body.  It's been hard, just like I remember.  As I endure these last 8 weeks, unlike my last pregnancy, I've started taking my anti-depressant.  I've been experiencing those overwhelming feelings of sadness, anger and frustration for the past month and dear hubby and I decided it would be best for me to get a jump on things before they get to a point where I feel out of control.  I promised myself during Phase 1 of my PPD that I wouldn't let myself suffer again.  I have to confess that I did hesitate to start, trying to convince myself I could do it on my own again.  But as I read through my early posts at the beginning of my recovery, I remember feeling how dark I felt and how hard it was to get out of that, even with help.

So, I've done lots of research and talked with my doctor on countless occasions about this what the best path is to take.  Yesterday at my 31 week appointment (and after having and emotionally taxing month of depression) I told her I was ready.  She went over the risks with me once more, and wanted to make sure this is what I wanted.  I assured her it was.  

So here I am, starting Phase 2.  I'm feeling afraid , but not despair.  Something I had a hard time shaking during Phase 1.  I'm hoping, praying (daily) even that I can catch this before it gets too bad.

My regular outlet of exercise is, at the moment, unavailable to me because Of how much pain I'm in.  I'm carrying this little guy extremely low, which has added additional pain in my low back and pelvis, making it difficult to even walk.  Can't walk=can't exercise.  I have, however, scheduled an appointment for today to see a physical therapist that specializes in low back and pelvis pain in pregnant women. I'm hoping I can rehabilitate these muscles so that once I deliver this won't be a problem anymore.  

I've been questioned on several occasions if taking an anti-depressant while pregnant is safe and every so often, criticized for putting my unborn baby at risk.   First off, all of these people are either without uterus's, or have never experienced PPD.  And cannot make reasonable assumptions about MY life choices.  I'm not going into this blind. And I'm not going into this uneducated.

You need to weigh the risk and the benefit.  I can run the risk of my baby being born and not breathing as quickly, and having a moment of fear that something is wrong and realize very quickly that everything is fine and have the benefit that I am emotionally able to take care of my family and be a better mom.  As scary as that "moment" will be, I'm willing to take that risk then make myself and my family suffer because I think " I can handle it on my own."  When the fact is, I know that I can't without some help.

Just as heaven knows, I'm sure I'll still struggle.  Transitioning into becoming a mother of two, sleepless nights, breastfeeding, a cranky two-year old and endless amounts of diapers all over the house.  

But remember what I've been saying this past year in a half?? Control what you can control. That's what I'm doing. Taking control of my life to be a better mother.

Your's truly,

 the pregnant,unbalanced, and medicated woman.