Not sure what I am thinking about today. Here’s a stab at my brain…
- I love how obedient my two year old is–most of the time.
- I do not always love what a daddy’s girl she is when he is around.
- At the same time I think her love of daddy is sweet and I want to foster it.
- Speech therapy starts back up next week.
- Tonight is parent night at Bible Club.
- I’m not thrilled to be going to the meeting. Been there, done that.
- But I’ll go. Sigh.
- And I’ll probably love seeing the kids in their class!
I’ve been trying to come out of my blogging cave, to try and share where I am.
Earlier this week I realized I feel sorry for those expecting or with a new baby.
Now don’t get me wrong, I adore my kids and I am very thankful I had each one. But I feel sorry for the new mamas and daddys who don’t know how hard the road ahead of them can be.
The sleepless nights.
The learning curve.
The baby blues.
The potential for postpartum depression and anxiety.
Watching them growing up.
Feeling sorry to see one phase end and another begin.
I truly do feel sorry.
That’s my confession.
But maybe it’s the depression talking.
Two years I have been battling for my mental health. Two years we have looked at this adorable face.
She’s saying cheese 🙂
The battle rages on. And it is worth it. But it is not always pretty.
This last week it included thoughts I thought were gone for good and new horrific thoughts I never thought I would have. There have been two medication changes and lessons in reaching out when I need help.
There have also been amazing moments of understanding and clarity.
The best thing my doctor said this week? “that’s the healty part of you fighting those thoughts.” The healthy part of me. It’s there. Others see it. That is gold I can hang on to.
Also, the doctor helped me see I am a useful part of my family, that I do contribute. I have an amazing husband who does so much; I had lost sight of what I do. I saw all he does and thought that was it. I discounted my role. But this week my doctor made me see it. He literally made me list off what I do in the house while hubby is doing so much. It was good. It was valuable.
So I soldier on. The battle might get ugly, but it is worth it! My girls and hubby are worth it.
Everybody knows you transition into babyland. Pregnancy and having a baby usher in a whole new phase and style of life.
What no one tells you is about the transition from that phase into the next. Where you are done having babies, no more nursing babies…they are becoming kids.
Now you are hard core getting them to brush their teeth and hair before school. And looking through homework folders. And letting them play outside, gasp, alone!
No one tells you how much you can miss the baby phase. How many times your heart can break thinking of baby days.
Dear God, no one tells you.
I am really struggling with this transition. I don’t want any more kids. I love our family the way it is, but at the same time, I cannot fathom life without a baby to cuddle and nurse.
This transition is really messing with me.
The doctor says it is not abnormal to have a lot of anxiety, boy do I ever, during transitions, particularly with the depression and bipolar disorder. I want to know how long it will last, he, of course, says we can’t really know that.
Have you had any major life transitions? Which one has been the hardest? How did you deal with it? Are you still dealing with it?
This week had me feeling worthless many times and in many areas. From work projects to doctor appointment, I felt worthless. I walked into my weekly therapy appointment feeling worthless.
So we began to talk about it. I listed off what had happened to make me feel worthless. Then the doctor asked me about things where I felt worthwhile. I had to think a bit.
“I used to feel worthwhile as a mom.”
“Why don’t you now?” So I told him about the weekend, how there had been a lot of stress and it never felt like we were just being, [loving, investing in] with our kids. It felt like we were just dealing with them, like they were a bother.
And you know what happened? Instead of affirming that I am bad mom, he pointed out how this made me a good mom. That being aware of and concerned about the difference of being with and dealing with my kids showed I was a good mom.
And I heard him. I believed him. I, once again, feel worthwhile as a mom.
Things have been changing a lot around here. The older girls are in school full-time, just Patrice is home. And things are even changing for her.
We recently had an evaluation recommended by our family doctor for speech delay. We were going to do it this summer, but it was expensive and not covered by insurance, so we decided to wait and see what would happen on it’s own if we left her alone.
But I was too nervouse to do that. So I contacted Early On. They came out a couple weeks later (last week) and determined their is a significant delay. Her speech level is at about 1/2 her age level.
If I’m honest, I have to admit I was shocked. I really thought they would come out and say everything was okay. That we’d laugh at me being overly concerned.
If I’m really honest I was/am sad. I know speech therapy is the most common need in little ones, but you never expect it to be your little one.
But all that aside, Patrice will start therapy next week. Twice a week for an hour each time in our home.
This could be life changing.
I love this one of Patrice. It happened every time she went down the slide.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks. My anxiety has soared. To levels unheard of to me.
There have been meltdowns–mine, as I try to cope with all that comes with regular life.
- Caitlyn starting first grade
- Sue starting kindergarten
- Patrice needing speech therapy
- Getting rid of baby clothes
- Paperwork for everybody!
Nothing real big, but all of it hitting triggers for me. My babies growing up. There won’t be anymore babies.
It has all been too much. Just too much. But I am working on hanging on. I am talking to hubby and my psychiatrist. We are adjusting medications and working to get me to okay again.
That’s where I am? Where are you?
A favorite from the recent Birthday party
Nag, nag, nag