Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Removing the anvil from my chest

I logged on to Facebook today and while scrolling through the news feed, I found a friend of mine shared a link regarding the decline of parents opting to have their little boys circumcised and her excitement at the news. Given the debatable subject of the article I knew it was bound to create a few opinionated posts, and being the nosy Facebooker that I am I decided to read the comments. Bottom line, I should have known better, but what can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment.

One thing I want to make clear is this has nothing to do with the friend who posted the link because she is truly a wonderful person and I value her advice in both parenting and lifestyle. I'm writing this now because the emotions I took away from her post reminded me of a topic that has plagued me during my entire time as a mother. It just so happens that her innocent and maybe even random re-posting of an article and some of the responses gave me the words to do so.

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The following was too long to add to any comment thread:

I love my children with every fiber of my being. They are my entire world and the thought of anything ever happening to remove them from that world sends chills down my spine, creates a painful emptiness in my chest and completely removes my will to live. And that's just the thought that anything could happen. Every single decision in our lives, big or small, important or seemingly irrelevant, is made with them in mind. Every decision I have ever had to make as a parent, some even prior to becoming pregnant the first time, was made to keep us all functioning and happy and healthy to the best of my human abilities. I do the research, I ask for advice, I sit down and contemplate and try to envision every possible outcome, and then roll all of that into one final decision that will keep us moving as a solid unit.

I like to think this makes me a good mother. I have to believe this makes me a good mother. I have to remind myself all the time amidst debates on staying at home versus working, breastfeeding versus formula, vaccinating or not, circumcising or not, I made all of these very tricky decisions with Owen in mind. I made them to the very best of my knowledge with ALL of us in mind because we have to work as a whole. And I have to tell myself this makes me a great mother because based on some things I've read online I've already failed miserably despite putting my children first.

I breastfed for seven months. They were the darkest, scariest seven months of my life. I'm alternating between typing and sobbing right now as I force myself to go back there and find the words to describe it for you. Medication didn't work. I had this precious, beautiful little boy with bright eyes and the sweetest smile looking up at me every day and I couldn't return the favor. I never wanted to hurt him...just myself, very badly. The only thing that kept me going was knowing that if I ended my own pain by hurting myself I would in turn be hurting him. Strangely, the only thing that kept me alive was him and my unwillingness to give up on him. But it was my unwillingness to accept that breastfeeding, at that time, was not right for me and my inability to put the peer pressure and the everlasting battle between breastfeeding and bottle-feeding behind me that kept me in that horrific and depressing state in the first place! I tried to do what the majority of other mothers said was the only correct choice, and I fought a very scary bout of postpartum depression that was only prolonged by the breastfeeding, and I nearly did more harm than good.

So all you moms can come and yell at me for giving my child formula for the remaining five months of his first year, and for being fully prepared to do the same with the child that is in my womb should the same circumstances arise the second time around. You can scold me and tell me how selfish I am for not giving my child the best start possible. Go ahead. I won't listen. I will continue to make the choices that are best for MY children and OUR family and I will NEVER judge a woman for opting against breastfeeding. After all, how am I possibly giving my child the best start if it puts me in such a dark place that I can barely see him?

In my world, making the decision to stay at home or work, to breastfeed or use formula, organic or inorganic, to vaccinate or not, to circumcise or not, to baptize or not, to home school or private school or public school does not add or reduce value to your motherhood. What matters is that you give your children as much love and attention and safety and guidance as you possibly can. Help them become strong, confident, thoughtful, brave little people. Offer the support necessary to carry those traits into adulthood and their own parenthood. That alone will determine your value in motherhood.

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For the record, Owen is circumcised. It wasn't until I learned we were having a little boy that I was made aware of an option not to. Jon and I sat down and talked about it, and I asked him if, given the choice again, he would opt to have the procedure done and he said "Yes." And since I lack a penis and the mountain of pride that seems to be held there, who am I to argue?

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Deciphering Kate

Thoughtful Kate wants to put life on hold, leash up the dog, and walk forever. She doesn't care where she's going or where she's been so long as she can stay lost in her head and mentally write blog entries. The dog serves as her excuse to be out, a quiet companion, and her eyes since she isn't paying much attention to her surroundings. Her feet work as a mode of transportation and a crank for her internal monologue. She is most content on cold, rainy nights without an umbrella because wet, stringy hair and feet dyed black from her flip flops make her feel all emo and emo writes good blogs.

Tired Kate wants to march up a flight of stairs, pound on the Elephant Man's door, bitch slap him a few times, knock him to floor, and then slowly and painfully claw out his eyes all while a disturbing, maniacal laugh escapes from the back of her throat. She hasn't had a solid nights sleep since moving here because the Elephant Man doesn't give a shit about waking his polite neighbors at 1:00, 2:00, even 3:00 in the morning. She has complained to the office, pounded on the ceiling, screamed at the top of her lungs in a desperate plea for sleep but the asshole must think it's funny because he only gets more obnoxious. Tired Kate doesn't know how much patience she has left and may very well be featured on the next segment of Baltimore's Most Wanted. She makes no guarantees.

Wallowing Kate has an overwhelming urge to lose herself in bags of Cool Ranch Doritos, Little Debbie's Fudge Rounds, and entire seasons of One Tree Hill. She wants to wrap herself in self pity, fill her insides with high fructose corn syrup, become grotesquely obese, and spend her evenings whining about how the kids on Tree Hill have everything she wants but can never have because she's too fat and ugly and socially awkward. No, she doesn't make a whole lot of sense, she may even lack a single rational bone in her body, but she is one extremely overwhelming pain in the ass.

Lonely Kate is always reminded of something a friend told her a long time ago: "I moved so far away because I was trying to run away from my problems, but what I didn't realize was my problems were in my head, and they followed me all the way out there." Despite this very valuable advice given long before-hand, Lonely Kate moved to Baltimore in the hopes of reinventing herself and is failing, obviously. She wants friends. She wants to meet people. She wants her own "bestie", but she can't figure out how to exchange more than pleasant hellos while out walking the dog. She stupidly thought this was one Ohio problem that could magically fix itself in Maryland, but she was wrong. She recently started trolling this website: www.succeedsocially.com and is actively seeking a babysitter.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

2011 New Year Resolutions

I anticipate 2011 will be a year of  rediscovery and changing my frame of mind. Back in 2008 I reached a point where I really did not like the person I'd become and small step by small step I changed everything I hated to become someone I loved. I plan to do it again, and this is how: 

1. Be more positive.
I wish I could understand where this abundance of negativity is coming from. I've always been a "grass is always greener" kind of gal but what I've been experiencing and exuding this last year is ugly even for me. I feel like I never have anything upbeat to say and my thoughts are very, very dark. I've convinced myself it's all a conspiracy, that the whole world is out to get me and they want me to feel like shit. I've never felt so alone in my life and I'm pretty sure it's all my own doing. This year I need to promise myself that I'll stop jumping to conclusions and thinking the worst of people. I have to look in the mirror and not out the window.

2. Make time for myself.
I played with the wording on this one for a long time. I needed a resolution that encouraged me to take care of myself, to be healthy, to read books, to get a manicure, or take a bubble bath. I needed something to remind me to look after myself too, and when I stopped to think about why I haven't done these things in the last year it's because I don't have time. That's what I told myself anyway. I've put so much time and energy in trying to be Wonder Mom and Wonder Wife that I lost my own sense of self-worth in the process, subsequently destroying all attempts at being the best ME I can be for myself and my family. This year I need to make the time. I can't be Wonder Mom or Wonder Wife when I don't like myself or who I have become. I need to be proud of who I am and appreciative of what I have and I can only do that through rediscovering my confidence and slowing down just enough to look around and enjoy my life.

3. Continue to play and grow with Owen.
My son is amazing. He's taught me patience, love, understanding, and my heart grows a little bigger every time I witness him notice something new about the world. This past Christmas -- his first Christmas -- he looked at every package, took off the decorative bow, and turned around to play contentedly with his new "toy". He didn't need what was inside because he was more than happy with the free stuff on the surface. He has an appreciation for everything no matter how big or small and I want to be there every step of the way to enjoy this time and learn everything I can from this precious little boy.

4. Find a confidant.
My husband is my best friend but I've come to realize that my husband cannot handle listening to my worries and woes -- not because he isn't a good listener -- but because it tears him apart when he can't fix whatever worry or woe I've brought to him. I need to find someone I can vent to. I need someone who can nod their head while I bitch/scream/cry, tell me it will all be okay, and then we'll be on our merry way. Constructive criticism or advice are always welcome but not required. I think this blog will have to do for the time being but it's a lot easier to vent when I don't have to worry about making sense (or sounding completely sane) to the masses.

5. Cover my family in bubble wrap and place them in a padded room.
I know, I know, I'm only setting myself up to fail with this one because there is no way anyone in their right mind would let me cover them in plastic and lock them in a room all year, but given the losses we've suffered this year it's awfully tempting. What I can do is encourage everyone to make the time to take care of themselves too. I know a few family members who have made resolutions to get back in shape and I can help motivate them by providing advice and encouragement. Now that I'm a non-smoker (exactly 1.5 years smoke-free as of today!!!) I can take a stand and help motivate the last few family members and friends to stop smoking as well. I can't forcefully protect anyone but I can offer my time and experience as means to help make the most of their health.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

2010 Self-review

Hello? Is anyone there? I didn't think so. That's okay...I have no social life on or off line so I'm pretty good at talking to myself anyway. Wait...what? You're still here? Oh bless your pretty sweet soul!

It's that time of year again. The time where I go in search of my New Year's resolutions and evaluate my performance. Self reviews are the hardest, you know. And it doesn't help when last year's resolution entry makes me want to bang my head against a concrete wall. I thought 2009 was a bumpy one? I thought 2009 included some of the lowest lows of my life? Honey, it was just starting!

2010 will forever go down in the record books as the year full of love and loss. I brought LIFE into this world. I gave birth to a beautiful little boy who surprises and amazes me every second I'm around him, and yet I felt like death was following me everywhere--first when my brother died in June, again when Jon's lovely Aunt Cynthia passed away November 22 after a long, brave battle with cancer, and again on December 6 when our precious dog Macy became so horribly ill we had no choice but to have her put down. I've seen so many wonderful things this year yet I've had to watch so many wonderful lives fizzle and fade away. Every bone in my body wants to say I HATE 2010 but I can't because nearly four years of hoping and praying for a baby finally came to fruition.

I don't know what else I can say.

Fortunately I only made one resolution: "I want to be the best mommy I can be. I want to be the mother who is madly in love, attentive, interested, and active in her child's life. I can't promise to lose the baby weight, or start saving for college right away, or to keep the house immaculate at all times. All I can do is promise to do my best, and love this little miracle for all he's worth."

In my very unprofessional opinion, I only recently succeeded at this goal. I didn't write about it here because I was too embarrassed/ashamed/sad/infuriated/disgusted with myself to admit that I was suffering from a severe case of postpartum depression. I never once wanted to hurt Owen but I often thought about hurting myself. I often thought I was in over my head, that I could never love my child as much as he deserved to be loved. Only recently did I realize I can love him enough and I do love him enough and I need him just as much as he needs me. That bond I felt with the baby kicking inside of me? It's finally back and it's stronger than any bond I have ever known.

So did I succeed in being the best mommy I can be? Yes. Was I perfect? Absolutely not! I did, however, stress WAY too much about losing the baby weight (it's all still there!!), saving for college (yet there is nothing...), and keeping the house immaculate (okay, maybe I...nope, didn't pull that one off either!).