Struggling behind closed doors

Four times I have done this.

Four times I have turned our lives upside down, changed them, rearranged them, made them new to never be what they once were and righted them upside again.

Four times I pushed my recovery too soon, answered "I'm fine" when I wasn't, and turned into a managing machine until the storm inside me calmed.

As a new mom, or a mom with a new baby you are screened for depression. But the screening is very...it never seems like it applies. See I don't struggle with depression after having my babies, its anxiety. It is a loss of control. It is the need to rely on something other than myself. Its needing help. It's figuring out a new battle rhythm of life.

It is not as easy as "not laughing as often" or "things getting on top of me". See image for a common postpartum depression screening tool used.

If the questionnaire asked things like:

• "are you burning the candle at four ends when you only have two ends to burn and even that is a lot"

or

• "Do you find the stress that once kept you together and functioning now has your heart racing and you struggle to prioritize what needs done first because it all needs done now"

then I would undoubtedly check all the yes boxes.

Things with Raelynn I knew would be different, by nature of adding not a second or third but a fourth child. During a pandemic. While homeschooling. With a 6, 4 and 2 year old, sure lets throw a newborn in there.

But, Raelynn is also a lazy eater because she's so little she tires out quickly. And so I can't just breastfeed while cooking dinner, throwing a load of laundry in the washer, reading a book to the girls, homeschooling, walking and pushing the stroller with another child in it, and so on. Over the last 6 years I have become incredibly resourceful and skilled at nursing on the go.

But with Raelynn, she is really good at pretending to eat and unless I am totally focused on her making sure its a good latch with the rhythmic suck suck swallow she is very likely to be expending calories and not actually taking any in. Or, sucking just fine and somehow still not transferring much milk. So, I have to sit, be still, focus only on her to feed and follow every feed with a bottle. Then fight mastitis as my over supply of milk questions why my child isn't taking in 15 ounces with each feed.

I go back and forth between thinking she's doing great and being incredibly encouraged, to then seeing she’s hardly transferred any milk and feeling like I’m forcing her to eat. She is gaining weight, but I miss the simplicity of hooking my baby up to the boob, letting them go until they are done and then waiting for them to cue they are hungry again.

I miss the security of knowing they were getting enough without having to track how many ounces they’ve taken from a bottle and stressing about making sure they hit a certain point for the day.

Raelynn's diva feeding schedule is just the tip of this postpartum anxiety journey.

Because it is on top of daily life. Normal tasks and stress that keeps me motivated to do things. Like the small pile of laundry that gives me just enough healthy anxiety to get off my butt and do the laundry. The dishes in the sink I refuse to wake up to so I finish before going to bed and so on.

Except, when my hands and boobs are full and requiring my complete focus for the purpose of sustaining a life, the dishes start to pile up, the laundry backs up, the dust bunnies accumulate, the cat still needs fed, who knows when the liter box was last emptied, and the older kids want my attention to play.

The thing is, none of the stuff bothering me now is new, none of it is suddenly plaguing me in a way it hasn't been doing on any given day before Raelynn arrived.

It's just the added attitudes of three girls struggling to adapt to the new baby. Three girls used to constantly being on the go with a fun mom ready to play, a mom super efficient that could play hide and seek while also meal planning. Its the fact that every two hours I am occupied for 30-45 minutes and can't just jump up and do the things I would normally be doing.

Just homeschooling with littles

It’s that my hormones are raging. I swing back and forth between feeling like I’ve got this, it’s just another day in paradise! Living the dream swaddled in varying shades of pink and loving every minute! To feeling overwhelmed by the daunting task of constant feeds and tracking transfers, diapers, homeschool progress, preK crafts, dress up days and so on.

Thursday I dropped Emmy off at preschool then took Carolynn to a friends house she hasn’t seen in months and let her play all morning. This was a much needed break from homeschool for both of us. Then we went to pick Emmy up with plans to ride scooters in the parking lot and eat a special lunch with friends. All outdoors of course, socially acceptable given Covid. We were on top of the world On our way to pick Emmy up. Raelynn ate great all morning, Madilynn had zero accidents and Carolynn had a renewed joy for homeschool flexibility.

But when Emmalynn got in the van, she angrily told me with so much hurt in her eyes that “I didn’t get my super special surprise because YOU forgot to bring my paper back”. She was on the brink of angry tears and I felt like she kicked me in the chest. Here I was thinking I was crushing it and I’d forgotten to bring the tooth brush tracking homework back to school. So even though she completed it, she didn’t get the toy all the other kids got because the darn paper was still hanging on the fridge.

I instantly checked with her teacher and was reassured she could bring it Tuesday and still get the toy. This of course did nothing for Emmys broken heart because in the moment a 4 year old just doesn’t understand the concept of later. My afternoon took a swing down after that.

The kids had a blast in the parking lot riding scooters but Raelynn resisted her bottle. The rest of the day I was stressfully watching her intake on the app I use to track it thinking surely this can’t be my life for the next however many months.

The laundry was piled up when we got home, I managed to fold it but it’s yet to find it’s home. Our entire house needs vacuumed, the dishes in the sink were waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher that was full of clean dishes, and the other side of the sink was full of pump supplies and bottles that needed washed. Toys were everywhere and for some reason the throw blankets had multiplied. Despite my two extra trips to the store that week, we were out of toilet paper and on the last little bit of whole milk. Emmy was still upset about not getting her toy and to be frank, so was I. I wanted to blame it on the school, like who does that to a little kid, punishes a 4 year old for not bringing her paper back. She can’t even reach where I hung the paper! But it was on me, I’m the one that forgot, I got so lost in life I forgot to be there for Emmy. Is it a small thing? Sure, but it didn’t feel small to her. It certainly wasn’t insignificant to her. I felt so awful, I just wanted to break down and cry with Emmy.

And the one thing that keeps me sane, I mean truly keeps me calm and centered, my time for prayer, worship and one on one with God, my RUNNING is on the back burner right now. Don't get me wrong, I have tried it. Several times. I must say my pace isn't awful for having been cut in half four weeks ago. . . That is beside the point though. There are other ways to stay centered, to find peace and calm, but the competitive nature in me, the (dare I say) vanity that runs in my human veins drives me to pick up and run long before I should in my recovery. It pushes me to try core strengthening long before the logical part of my brain knows my muscles are ready for. My anxiety is what drives my need to run. I'd love to tell you I am running toward God every time my feet hit the pavement, but often times I find I am running away from Him. From what He is trying say to me in the moments and seasons in which I am forced to be still. Like the current one I find myself in.

Running 4 weeks postpartum

It is on this postpartum journey I struggle most. Everything needs done and I am overwhelmed not because I can't do the things, but because it all takes so much longer. Because I can prioritize the tasks but I can not ignore them or I get short tempered, I snap and I am not a joy to be around. Unfortunately this comes at the expense of my kids and their memories of me. I yelled at Carolynn last night for being 6 years old and still not know how to wash her hair with out help. What is wrong with me?!? She’s only 6! Some days I don't even get all the shampoo out of my hair when I’m rinsing it! You know the feeling, when you’re drying your hair with the towel and hear bubbles, yep pop time to get back in and rinse off again.

Just last night I was pouring my heart out to Tanner about how I feel like all I do is clean up after the kids all day and when I am done there is no time left to just be with them. I fear, deeply, that I am not enjoying my kids for who they are and where they are right now. He said he understood and encouraged me to just play with them.

I went to bed determined to do that the next day. I fell asleep praying that God help me to be a better mother, focused on my children and to drown the sounds of the enemy pulling me away from what matters. I fell asleep asking God to help me be better and at the same time found myself making lists of things I could do with the kids the next day. Because in my humanness I couldn't just give it to Him, I had to also make a plan. l

And then I woke up. The day got away from me. There were meals to be made, laundry to fold, diapers to be changed, feedings to complete, all the feedings, so many feedings, errands to run, messes to be tidied and before I knew it, it was 1600 and I had yet to actually play with my kids. Tanner told me "go play with the kids, I'll do this".

I saw red.

Not because he was trying to help, not even really because of what he said. I saw red because I felt unseen every other day of our lives. Because the tasks I am struggling to find balance in, are not new tasks, they are our lives. So yeah, he helps today, in this moment, but that doesn't fix the bigger issue. Remember when I said being married is being an accountability partner and you have to be tactful? This was one of those moments for Tanner, bless is heart for being the voice I needed to hear in that moment, even if I got defensive, hormonal, emotional and angry. The bottom line is,

We are adjusting.

But more so, I am adjusting.

To be accurate, I need to adjust.

I need to find a balance and make my kids the priority. My grandmother is big on telling new moms, hold that baby the dust bunnies will be there tomorrow. In my anxiety, I can't not clean. I will hold the baby, in a carrier of some sort, and also clean.

But then you blink. And your oldest is 6 and you realize you are 1/3 of the way done raising her into adulthood. Suddenly the dust bunnies don't seem important.

EXCEPT -- This is when I refuse to be a sappy everything is great I saw the light blogger --

its just not that easy. Because in that moment you feel guilty, you swear you will do better and be better in the moment when it comes again. And it does come again but you find yourself struggling with the same anxiety. With the same struggle of wanting to plan and meet the mission need, the tasks need checked off the list, surely the children can play together.

In every opportunity to be patient,

to let my kids be kids,

to manage my expectations,

be slow to anger and quick to nurture,

to cuddle instead of rush to prepare for the next task,

I. Struggle.

I struggle with being in the moment as a loving, nurturing, patient mother or being the ever efficient machine that moves through each part of the day smoothly without hiccups. I can’t seem to find a balance between the two. But hiccups happen, kids are kids, they have emotions they are allowed to feel and work through, they have lives that don't fit perfectly into my well thought out and organized schedule that demands obedience and leaves little room for deviation.

But life goes on, with or without you.

Yes, the kids will play even if you don't, they do play even when you wont.

And then they go to bed, and start all over the next day.

I go to bed and I say the same things, I pray the same things. I worry in my determination to not cuddle my children I’ve swung to far to the opposite end of the spectrum. God has to be so tired of hearing it by this point (good news is He is never tired of us, his love is unconditional). I am tired of praying it, I am tired of falling into this cycle that always ends in the most intense mom guilt as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Don't be fooled, this mom guilt was the same mom guilt I felt when I was an active duty Army nurse, it didn't change intensity as a stay at home mom. Because the enemy will have you believing you will never be enough no matter how hard you try.

I will not lie to you, every word of this post is not just what I have struggled with in the past but what I am C U R R E N T L Y struggling with. Which, if you're doing the math, means I've been in this cycle of sorts for 6 years.

Maybe it isn't postpartum anxiety, maybe its motherhood.

Maybe I could use a little lexapro in my life, I am not above taking medication if necessary.

There are a lot of maybes but one thing I know for sure is, God is calling me to turn to Him. To lean not on my own understanding but on His. To truly give it to him and GIVE UP control. The tasks can wait, the mess means nothing in the scheme of eternity, there are little souls entrusted to me as a mother. Little gifts from God waiting to be taught, loved, and guided toward their creator. Its a marathon, not a sprint. It's time I start training like it. If only it were as easy as running a marathon.

Give yourself Grace. Remember that excellence doesn't mean perfection.

If you struggle with postpartum depression or anxiety, please reach out to someone. You are not alone. If you struggle with any form of behavioral health, you are not alone. It's okay to need help, it's okay to not be okay.

Please don't hide your struggle behind closed doors, let someone in, ask for help and let those around you cover you in love and support.