My {Boy}

I watched him walking hand-in-hand with his daddy -- clumsily carrying a golf club twice his size in the other arm -- swinging it back and forth missing his head by an inch.

His shoes? On the wrong feet and not strapped. On the car ride there, he removed the pair of non-matching socks under his sandals.

His shirt? 2 Sizes too big and surprisingly on the right way (Usually he rocks the "inside out and backward" look)

His shorts? Also 2 sizes too big and on backward.

His underwear? Showing out the front of his shorts because his shirt is tucked into them. They're probably on backward, too.

His giant hat (also non-matching) nearly covering his eyes and flopping over his ears.

He looks at the sky and chats with his daddy about his imaginary friend "Mason James."

And the only worries in his mind? What color golf ball he was going to get!

He climbs the rocks on the course and we stay on one hole for 20 minutes while he puts each ball down the hole and watches it roll down the tube and out and onto the "golf field." Then he yells, "Let's go to the next field!"

See.. the world hasn't got him yet. Right now he's still living in a world of magnetic blocks, fire trucks that put out pretend fires, and soccer balls. His excitement of the day is saying "This many, mom?" and holding up fingers because he's figured out how to count on his fingers and it's the coolest thing since sliced bread (do people still say that?) He has pure joy in ever fiber of his little being - when he pedals that trike down the street, he believes that he is the mightiest little person that has ever existed. He's innocent. Oblivious to the evil around him - so much evil. He doesn't even know there's anything but good in the world because his world is so good. He believes that mommy and daddy can protect him and a kiss (or Ninja Turtle bandaid) is all it takes to mend a boo boo.  It won't always be this way.

Someday there will be bullies. He'll get made fun of. Someone will break his heart. He won't stop to pick up every rock in his path. He won't let ants crawl up and down his arms as he tries to rescue them and return them to their hill. He'll lose a loved one. Someone will decide not to be his friend. Someday someone will tell him he's not good enough. Someone will break his spirit. He'll want to change who he is because he'll want to fit in. And someday he'll know that there's scary in the world - That boo boos can't always be healed with a kiss from mommy.

Anyway, I'm lying awake tonight because of a tragedy near our hometown -- in the town both my babies were born in and where I used to work and where I have many friends. It has me so shaken up that I just can't even think clearly. So as I snuggled him to sleep tonight, tears streamed down my cheeks. I want to keep him here forever - in his innocent carefree world.I want to protect him from the meanies. I want him to know Jesus loves him just the way he is. I want him to trust that he can always come to me. I want him to always find joy in the littlest things. I want him to dare to be different when the world is demanding he fit the mold.

I just want nothing short of the world for my little boy. Mostly, I want him to always know that he can go anywhere he wants and be anything he wants to be - even in non-matching, backward, upside down clothes... but maybe not with his underwear sticking out.

You go get 'em, Turbo!

{PPD} and The {Other} Side

I had my 6 week appointment last week.. just getting around to posting today! 

For some reason I have been just dreading this appointment. It's like my pregnancy is completely over after the 6 week check. Obviously it was over when a baby was placed in my arms, but you know what I mean.. it's the last doctor's visit. The final "You're done. See ya next time." I  don't know - I just really love being pregnant so I like to pretend like it might last forever? I mean 40 weeks just is NOT long enough. (Feel free to kick me if you're currently 42 weeks pregnant)

But I don't even think that was the real reason I was dreading it. I think it was because it took me back to the last time I headed to my 6 week appointment in 2012. Talk about emotional. 

Two years ago I drove to that post-partum check with tears streaming down my cheeks. Then I sobbed uncontrollably to the point I had to pull over. But this wasn't really new. Those tears hadn't stopped flowing for 6 weeks. Non-stop. No matter what I did. No matter what anyone said. No matter how many hugs random strangers passed out (just kidding). And it wasn't just tears. It was overwhelming anxiety. It was constant fear. It was seeing things that weren't even there. It was living in a fog... and the fog didn't clear for 8 months. While I quit my job for other reasons, too, the PPD was the one I couldn't come to peace with because I couldn't believe it was so overwhelming that I lost a love for my dream job. However, what a blessing that has also been! God definitely opened up differnet doors for me. 

**Not many people knew because I'm really good at faking a smile. Those who did know? Well, they mostly tried to pretend like they didn't know. My co-workers all knew. I showed up looking disheveled (more than a normal new mom) every single day. I was late for work (not like me at all) and left early every day. I stopped completing paperwork on time and cancelled visits when I just couldn't do it (also, not like me at all). Yet they never said anything (even though we dealt with moms suffering from PPD all the time). God definitely opened up differnet doors for me. My husband knew and he did his best to try and help. I suppose some friends knew, but lying on Facebook is easy peasy. And it wasn't until recently that I decided to let people know about my experience.God gives us trials to bring us closer to him in our weakest moments and to show others the hope we have through Him -- so I choose to use this trial for His glory. "What if trials of this life - the rain, the storms, the hardest nights are His mercies in disguise?!"**

I got to the appointment. I sat in the waiting room and tried to hold it together - then a pregnant lady walked in and sat behind me. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. Our clinic nurse (who is also our neighbor and friend) came and said my name. I lost it. Right there in the waiting room I turned into a crazy woman. She hugged me and quickly took me back to the exam room to save me from completely humiliating myself. She was very concerned (obviously) and asked what was wrong.. I said, "I don't know." Then I just sobbed some more. 

My doctor didn't even ask. He just said, "I know you, and this isn't the Grace I know." 

I was well aware. I wasn't the Grace I knew either. Or the Grace my husband knew. Or the Grace my friends knew. or the Grace my coworkers knew. Or the Grace I wanted my baby to know. But how was I supposed to know what was "normal" after having a baby? Maybe this was normal even though no one else seemed to relate? That day I was sent home with a script for prescription anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication. I never filled the scripts. I chose to get help in other ways and I was able to fully recover several months later ... However, there is NO reason to be ashamed if you do need to take these medications. Had I decided to go that route, I may have felt better much quicker. 

Fast forward two years later.. 

 I drove to my appointment. I jammed out to my favorite radio station. I peered in the mirror a few times and smiled at that sweet little miracle in the back seat. I thought about what we might have for supper. I thought about what we could do with Trice for fun this weekend... then I missed Trice a little bit since I left him with a friend. And then I smiled great big. THIS was normal. 

The fact that our morning was rough - really, it was rough - did not knock that smile off my face. Yes, this parenting two kids is a whole new ballgame for me. It's full of joy and full of heartache, but we're getting it. We're figuring it out. Day by day. I don't cry except when Ellie decides to grow too fast or Trice has been screaming all day or I just love them both so much. I worry about them like mothers do, but the fear isn't so intense that I want to lock us all inside our house and never leave. I may be sleep deprived but not because my worrying refuses to end just because it's night time. 

When my doctor sat down, he immediately started asking me about how I was doing emotionally -- how I was handling motherhood with two kiddos. He had asked at Ellie's first check-up, too, but even when I said, "I don't have time to be sad," he reminded me that the sadness didn't REALLY hit me until later on with Trice. When I answered, "I'm great. I'm doing really well" he looked at me probably waiting for me to cry (since that's my general response to, well, everything), but I didn't. He said, "You know you don't have to just say that if you aren't. Being a mom has to be incredibly hard and you're the mother of two. And you're really good at it." I replied, "No, really, I'm doing great. I've been there and this is not there.. and I'm not going there!" 

That's all I had to say. He understood. I'm SO incredibly grateful for a doctor who cares .. I'm not just another patient. I know he remembers that visit when I walked in two years ago a mess. Today I was calm, collected, wearing real clothes and had actually showered and brushed my teeth. He remembers when I came back just a month or so after going back to work and told him I had quit my job. He knew it wasn't JUST because I wanted to stay home raising my baby. 

But more importantly, I'm SO incredibly grateful that I'm good. That I didn't have to pull over. That I could smile through my doctor's appointment and have it be genuine. That we could discuss the delivery and other things and I didn't forget 5 seconds later because I was in a complete fog. That I could walk out of that doctor's office feeling as great as when I walked in. And that I could go home and still be good. 

The truth is, post-partum depression is real - It doesn't discriminate. I have a background in early childhood, I know a lot about babies and small children and pregnancies, I used to work with new moms to help them through post partum depression. In fact, I used to hand out the PPD screening (and I knew exactly how to lie completely on it). I have a wonderful husband and a great family. My faith is strong. I love my babies more than anything else on this earth. Being a mom is the only thing I've ever wanted to be. But it got me .. and it was one heck of a ride. 

So please - ask your new mom friends how THEY are. Not how their babies are (well, you can ask that, too) but don't forget about the mom. Last night we went for a walk and before the neighbor said anything about the baby she said, "How are YOU doing, mama?" It caught me off-guard and I responded, "Pretty good!" She said, "Are you sure? Because I cried for 8 weeks straight when I had my 2nd kid." (See, why do people NOT just tell the truth? It is OKAY to feel sad .. having a baby is a MAJOR life event). Watch for signs. Don't shy away because they seem to be acting different. I can promise you they need you now more than ever. Reach out to their spouse if you are concerned. Encourage them to call their doctor. Invite them over. Get them out of the house no matter what it takes. If you can't get them out of the house, go to them. If you do nothing else, please pray for them. They are feeling lonely and lost and confused and scared. They aren't sleeping. They probably aren't eating either. And if you've been there - tell people - because it's terrifying, sad, and embarrassing. 

Most importantly, if you are suffering from PPD, know that it WILL get better. There is hope. You are no less of a mother. This is not something you chose to happen - it's not something you could prevent. You don't love your baby any less than any other mother. There are things you can do to help you cope. Do them. And remember that you might not have the same journey the next time you have a baby, and if you do - you'll remember there is hope again.

I am a much stronger person because of the whole experience. My faith is stronger, my marriage is stronger, my coping skills are greatly improved, and I have passion like none other for pregnancy, birth, babies and motherhood (more to come on where God is leading me with this.. stay tuned!) I went into my 2nd pregnancy knowing very well I could struggle with PPD again. I was a little nervous, but I was so equipped that I just knew I'd survive and a baby would be totally worth it. My son is totally worth every tear I cried! So I guess what I mostly want to say is I've been there, and now I'm thriving on the other side. 

**Baby blues and PPD are NOT the same thing. Nearly every woman experiences baby blues. Those will pass.  If you are worried that you may be suffering from PPD, please let your doctor or someone you love (or even me) know right away.**