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| September, 2017... Our first family photo |
In a 2010 Chicago Tribune article, columnist, Mary Schmich, writes
that a line from her aging mother sticks with her: “Even the horrible things
seem beautiful to me now.”
This resonates with me. When I look back over the last 10
months of my life, I do absolutely see that even the horrible things are
beautiful. This purpose of this blog is
to remind myself during challenging times that—weeks, months, or years down the
road—I will find that God has been shedding light—even in the horrible times.
November, 2016:
I am standing in my living room, clinging to my
mother-in-law, while my 8-week-old firstborn sleeps. We are both crying. We are
filled with joy.
Twenty minutes before that, I was shivering and staring blankly
over Lake Michigan, wondering how I had gotten to this lonely place. I was exhausted and defeated. I felt
embarrassed and ashamed. I was numb. I
felt so afraid, yet I had not cried in days. I barely had the energy to care
for myself, let alone care for my darling baby girl. Between nursing, pumping,
doing dishes, changing diapers, eating, doing laundry, doing PT exercises for
my anteriorly rotated sacrum (thanks, childbearing process!), taking care of my dog,
and cuddling my little love, I had not even remembered to make myself a cup of
coffee yet that morning or afternoon. That little bit of warmth may have helped
me; it may have at least given me a jolt of energy, I thought.
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| caseyalexandraphotography.com |
I had just experienced a particularly challenging night and
morning with my baby, so much so that I called my incredible mother, who offered
to immediately drive the six hours to me from Ohio. She wanted to take care of
HER baby. She suggested I also call my loving mother-in-law, who lives only 30
minutes away, to ask that she spend time with us that afternoon, so as to relieve
some of my new-mom duties before my mother arrived to Milwaukee and my husband
returned home from work. When my mother-in-law arrived, I called my husband, my
rock, and at his urging, I had walked to this nearby park from my home, feeling
frustrated with God and praying for a sign that He was actually listening to
me.
“Why is this happening to me?” I
wondered. I tried to do everything right, and still, I felt that I was failing. Things had gone so well for me during my pregnancy and in the 7 weeks following my daughter's birth, and then all of a sudden, I felt terrified in my new role as mother.
“Just go,” my sweet husband urged, “and call me when you get
back home. I bet the walk will make you feel better.”
Few people were out that cold November day, but as I stood
there at the lake, hoping to be invisible, one woman started walking toward me.
I turned away from her, wondering why she was coming nearer to me and wishing
she would walk the other way. “Excuse me, ma'am,” the stranger said. She extended
her arm toward me. “Would you like a coffee?”
She was holding a cup of coffee in her hand. The name
“Sunny” appeared on the side of her cup. There was a buy one, get one deal at
Starbucks that afternoon, she said, and she figured a stranger would appreciate
the gift more than she needed the extra caffeine and calories.
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| April, 2017... Easter weekend in Ohio |
I smiled at her, and tears immediately welled up in my eyes.
I couldn’t believe that I was actually crying!
It felt great, and I hugged her. [Not only am I a big crier, I am also a
big hugger. Hooray for the healing power of touch!] “Oh no! Are you okay?” she
inquired. I let it pour. I word-vomited to this kind stranger about my recent
battle with postpartum depression and anxiety. “Do you have kids?” I asked. I
wanted her to tell me that she had kids—that she, too, had struggled like I was
struggling, and that everything would soon be much better. I wanted to know
that I was normal and that I would get the help that I so desperately needed.
“No,” she answered cheerily, “but I hope to some day!”
Bundled in our Wisconsin winter coats, we talked for a
moment longer. It turns out that we both work in healthcare—and at neighboring
hospitals. [Dear reader, if you know of a PA, “Sunny,” at Froedtert, please let
me know!] Sunny looked me in the eye, flashed the kindest smile, told me she
hoped my day would get better, and, in an instant, this angel was gone.
I looked back out over Lake Michigan, barely able to see through
my teary eyes. I smiled. “Okay, God,” I laughed, “so you are listening. Thank you for the sign!” I sipped my delicious, warm coffee drink and
started my journey back home.
I finished the drink on my way home, and between the
caffeinated beverage and the gift of human kindness, I finally had a little pep
in my step again. At first worried at the sight of her sobbing, new-mama
daughter-in-law, my mother-in-law was then thrilled to hear of my encounter
with Sunny, my angel and sign from God.
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| June, 2017... Stealing mama's birthday cards! |
My sweet baby girl is now ten months old. After an extended
maternity leave, which gave me time to be pieced back together into a whole,
strong woman after my scary battle with postpartum depression and anxiety, I
have happily returned to work. My co-workers and boss have been incredibly
supportive. My faith is alive, and my relationships with my husband, parents,
sisters, family, and friends are thriving. Best of all, my rambunctious little lady
and I are the best of friends, and we love each other (and dada!) like crazy.
While I would not wish my experience upon anyone, in only 8
months, I am able to acknowledge how this dark time was a blessing in disguise.
It taught me how to fully rely on my husband and God. My bond with my sisters
and mother was further strengthened, as they spent several weekdays with me and
the babe in Milwaukee so that I could focus on healing myself. From new and old friends to church ladies to
my therapist, my support team has grown and has been strengthened. My village is
mighty, and I know that I am deeply cherished as a woman, as a wife, as a
daughter, as a mother, and as a friend.
Importantly, I am finding that my work with infants, children, and
parents is so much more now that I have had these experiences. I can be a light
for other women in need. Just last week at work, I was given the opportunity to assist
a young mother of pre-term multiples (and three older children) who is
beginning to recognize signs of postpartum depression in her own life. She is now getting the help that she needs
because she opened up to me, a random woman (well, and her daughter’s physical therapist!), during a
session. And how beautiful is that? I endured
a bit of suffering, and that helped me to
be a light for this remarkable young woman—and hopefully, for others I will
encounter in the future.
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| July, 2017... Windy ferry boat ride across Lake Michigan |
My take-away messages for you, dear reader…
1.
Practice random acts of kindness.
2.
GET HELP if you are struggling!! Reach out; don’t
isolate yourself!
3.
Know that God is with you.
4.
Look for the beauty, even in the horrible times.
5.
And if you are in politics or in a position
within an organization where you are able to push for longer leaves for mothers
(and fathers!) after bringing a miraculous new life into the world, DO IT, I
urge you!
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