Speechless

I have no way to possibly express my gratitude for the wonderful family and friends I have.

You see, yesterday, in a moment of weakness, I typed five words on my Facebook status: "Guys, PPD is no joke."

A screaming baby, two whiny preschoolers, and a total panic attack prompted me to reach out in the only way possible as I waited in what seemed to be the longest McDonald's drive-through line EVER.  I was attempting to make good on a rash promise to my preschoolers that we'd do something "fun," like go to McDonald's on the way to my mom's and get lunch at a time when even the idea of making peanut butter sandwiches seemed completely overwhelming. Feeling trapped, I wrote the words, pushed "post,", then put my phone away as a confused drive-through worker handed me a bag of burgers and a side of fries while I sobbed out a garbled "Thank you" and drove away, crying.

I went back to delete my whiny post after arriving at my mom's (what has been my safe haven on Steve's working days), and I was completely overwhelmed by the outreach of love people extended to me without judgment, condemnation, or the need to know more.  I had people offer to babysit, reach out to me to share their own experiences with this particular monster and even come by and drop off sweet gifts (I wasn't home all day...I felt that it would probably be a better idea to stay at my mom's, where I could count on non-hormonally-challenged people to help me with my kids, and I didn't answer the phone all day--crying over the phone is something I try to avoid whenever possible).

But guys, I just want to say:

I'm overwhelmed by your love.  

I've usually struggled with PPD/Baby blues after my kids are born.  It was the worst with Jack and the easiest with Maggie, but I knew this was coming.  This time, I thought I had enough of a support system--a plan--in place to where I wouldn't have to go totally crazy.

I even went in for my one-month post-baby appointment, and while I scored higher on the depression scale test they give you than I would've liked, my doctor complimented me on knowing my limits, having a good back-up plan for those moments that are tough, and having a good support system in place.  I patted myself on the back for having it all together, then went home.

And then my baby got sick:

And my previous routines and semi-functional household ceased to be routines.  Or functional.

I spend a lot of time right now holding a sick, sleeping baby, trying to help him breathe a little easier (I'm learning that touch is a powerful help when your baby isn't feeling well), and trying to ignore all of those unrelenting voices in my head that keep telling me that I'm doing it wrong, that I'm doing too much, that I'm not doing enough, that I'm a bad mom, that I'm a horrible housekeeper, that I'm a bad wife, that my messy house is a direct reflection of my inner worth.  But those incessant voices are hard to ignore sometimes, and sometimes, from time to time, despite my determination to fight them, I occasionally give in and actually BELIEVE those voices.

For the record, Calvin has been a GOOD sick baby, still cheerful on occasion:

BUT the constant demands of a sick baby who only wants momma, plus a sick older brother:

It's just getting to be a lot.

Believe me, I'm trying to use remedies that I KNOW work: besides my prayer and scripture routine, I try to regularly exercise, occasionally get dressed up (which rarely lasts longer than a couple of minutes, as evidenced below).

I have a goal to go outside and sit in the sun during this amazingly warm February and March on every warm day, eat at least 5 servings of fruits and vegetables a day, and get out at least once a week with only Calvin.  But,despite my best efforts, there are times when the monster strikes, and usually those moments are completely out of the blue.

For example, Monday was a good day, for the most part.  Steve was working (which I've learned means that he'll be gone for at the very least 14 hours that day), so, knowing that in advance, I went to my mom's for the day.  We made Leap Day sugar cookies, I ate my fruits and veggies, I even read to my kids, and we came home at the end of the day.  I started to feel a little stressed on the way home as I realized that I would have to put the kids to bed by myself, and encouraged them (not in an incredibly positive way) to just get home, brush teeth, put pajamas on, and get in bed, as we'd already done scriptures and prayer.  

I was in the kitchen, sighing at the totally cluttered counter and sink filled with dirty dishes, when Clark came in, gleeful: "Jack's peeing in the sink!!!"

I ran in, and Jack was looking incredibly guilty as he pulled his pants back up.  WHY my 6-year-old thought it was a good idea to pee in the bathroom sink (which, yes, had assorted toothbrushes still lying in it), I have no idea...but what would have usually been an occasion where I would have sighed but thought of a funny blog post to write about it, well, it wasn't funny at the moment.

I was furious.  I yelled, I screamed, I slammed doors.  

Steve luckily came home at that point, but I still felt about two inches tall as I went and hid in the closet for a bit, changed into some running clothes, and went on a run, regardless of the dark.  I had to get OUT of my house and AWAY from my children.

The run helped momentarily, but it didn't stop me from crying myself to sleep or waking up with anxiety all night long.  And so yesterday, when I woke up feeling the same way, I reached out, with an immediate, visible result:

(These were on my front porch when I came home from my mom's last night.  Thank you, whoever you are)

And although I'm feeling my fair share of shame for being so weak and vulnerable in such a public place as the internet, it's truly inspiring to see what kind of charity and acceptance people are capable of.

For the record, I have an appointment with my wonderful OB-GYN later this afternoon, and while it's hard on the ol' self esteem to have gotten to this point, I'm grateful to have concerned and loving people around me to help me through this darkness with their little bits of sunshine, service, and loving kindness.

Thanks.