October 16, 2011


I have a hard time asking for help. I do not like admitting defeat or feeling like a failure. I struggle to lean on others when I need them. It takes a long time for me to trust anyone. I would much rather be the one helping.

Living with postpartum depression and trying to overcome it, while striving to be the mother I long to be, the mother my children deserve, is perhaps the most difficult thing I've ever experienced. I am responsible for the well being of two other people. I can't give up and walk away. I can't take the easy way out. I have to face this head on and get through it, and at the same time I have to carry on with life and take care of my children. Life doesn't stop. Levi and Ian don't stop growing and developing. They aren't waiting for me to get better, but they need me to.

The moment I was admitted to the hospital I lost something. I lost a dream. I missed out on an experience I was longing for, one I prepared for, and I mourn that loss. I am pissed off that I was not able to have a peaceful birth at home. It is not fair that I barely remember the first moments of my son's life, that his first weeks are a blur in my memory. I don't have those idyllic pictures of Ian's first precious moments to look back on and I certainly don't recall my birth story with fondness. Whatever joy there is in the victory of a vaginal birth despite all odds is overshadowed by the sorrow I feel for the loss of everything that should have been and wasn't.

I blame myself for Ian's admission to the hospital. I know I over reacted and it is my fault my son had to endure painful procedures in a cold, sterile, hospital environment. I failed him when he was only a few days old.

There are days I don't want to hold my son. I am often angry with my children. There are moments that I want to run away and never look back. I frequently question why I ever wanted this life. This is the life I always dreamed of and now I feel trapped.

This doesn't just effect me. My husband misses his wife and friend. My children want their mother back. They are trying to live life with the broken pieces I've created.

Postpartum depression, and the anxiety that goes along with it for me, is extremely scary and often debilitating. I thought by now the worst would be over. I thought I would be 'fixed' by now. And yet there are still absolutely horrible moments that I am unable to be the person I need to be.

I often feel like I'm pretending- just going through the motions and nobody knows what is going on. But who wants to know? This isn't rainbows and butterflies. This is messy.

October 07, 2011

My Boys

I realize how fortunate I am. There are three amazing boys in my life, one of whom happens to be a truly outstanding husband.

Ian. Dear, sweet, chunky, lovable, Ian. My second born, he is full of life and wonder. In just under four months he has nearly tripled his birth weight. As I sit here holding this precious gift, feeling the warmth and weight of his body on mine, listening to the gentle rhythm of his sleepy breathing, I am full of love and gratitude. Life for him did not start out easily. He had to fight his way into this world, and fight to stay here. Now there is no question- he is healthy and thriving. His beautiful dark hair is gradually filling in, while his gorgeous blue eyes continue to shine. Loving him is easy. His laughter melts my heart and calms my soul, if only momentarily. The way he looks at me reminds me how much he needs and loves me.

Levi. Amazing Levi, full of love and surprises, he fills me with joy and reminds me to savor the moments. I am in awe of how gentle and caring he is. Through all of the turbulent changes this summer brought him, he has remained joyful and easygoing. He is curious about the world around him- always trying to figure it out. He has so many words, thoughts of his own, opinions, draws his own conclusions, and is not shy about expressing them. The other night as I helped put him to bed, I was singing to him and he kept asking ‘another one, another one’ while he gently rubbed my arm. Moments like those I hope to never forget. He made me a mother. He changed me forever the moment he was born, and continues to shape me every day since.

Tony. My strength and my love, he is the most amazing man that exists. He is patient, gentle, generous, a wonderful and loving father, compassionate, creative, passionate, selfless, honest, kind, and so much more. He loves me well. He knows everything there is to know about me and yet still, somehow, wants me, wants to share life with me. He has not had any easy role being my husband. From my back surgery to postpartum depression, he has had to be there for me through many difficult times. And each time he exceeds any expectations. We recently celebrated our seven year anniversary. I use the term celebrate loosely since we weren’t even in the same state, but I know we’ll have many more years to celebrate properly. Being married to him and having him as my partner in life has made me a better person.

I am one incredibly lucky (and grateful) woman.