The Reason Why

I am a TV commercial.

Three months ago. That was my last post. Three months ago I could tell you that I was happy, I was having fun with my girls, and I was planning for another beautiful baby girl. It was just a couple weeks after my last post when the anxiety hit.

Abbigail's c-section delivery was hard for me. There was a problem with the spinal and I had a panic attack on the operating table. Awesome thing to do when you are totally naked, and numb from the chest down. So I lived in fear as the day drew nearer for Claire to come. Would it be the same as last? Anxiety and fear overwhelmed me, but there is good news. The spinal went great. The surgery was the best out of three... and beautiful Claire was healthy and strong. And for about two weeks so was I.

For those who know don't know I suffered Post Partum Depression with Ella. Much of that had to do with the fact that I went back to a job I hated when she was only six weeks old. I'll never forget the day I walked out on my job, and drove home as fast as I could to be with her. Another panic attack.

With Abbigail, I had three months of maternity leave. It was hard to go back to work, but I truly loved my job and the second time around I was prepared with medication.

I was prepared this time, too. I read books. Prayed. Fasted. Hoped... that my sanity would stick. It didn't. It was as if it happened overnight. Two weeks after Claire's birth my world changed.

No... I'm not Andrea Yates. I would never hurt my children, and I love this new little life as my adorable niece would say, "as big as a redwood tree and more." But for those who have experienced Post-partum Depression, or any depression... it is immobilizing.

One night Jared and I were watching TV when a commercial came on...

-A woman staring out the window, "I just don't find joy in things anymore."

-A man rubbing his eyes, "My sleep just doesn't seem right."

-A mother staring at her beautiful daughter, "I can't deal with the guilt."

..... and more and more and more.

I turned to Jared and said, "I'm a TV commercial." I wasn't sleeping. Poor little Ella took the brunt of my mood swings. I didn't want to get out of bed, get dressed, cook dinner for my family, exercise, or eat. (Me, not eating? Something is definitely wrong.) Worst of all: I didn't want to hold my new baby. The girls would ask why I was crying all day long. It could be easily hidden from the outside world because I was never outside... but my beautiful daughters knew something was wrong. Things came to a head one night, and fortunately our wonderful doctor makes house-calls. He just happens to be our bishop and a truly Godly man.

My biggest question: Why would my Heavenly Father send us this unexpected gift if he knew I was going to suffer this way? My bishop/doctor was able to counsel me, and he and Jared gave me a blessing of healing... and I got a new cocktail of medication. That night Jared called his mom, explained the situation, and the next day she was in Borger to drive me home to Colorado where I stayed for 10 days. A week after that my mom and sister come to Borger with my nephew who is just five days younger than Abbigail. (They make quite the team, sort of like me and Erica.)

Things aren't perfect, but they are better. I hold my baby... all the time. She is perfect, even if she keeps us up all night long. And I have wonderful friends here in Borger who do so much to help me... and a husband who is understanding and patient who I love with ALL my heart. He is up with me at night when that baby isn't sleeping... he takes his turns.

So bare with me as I continue to fight for hopefully only a few more months when my body and hormones go back where they belong. Some days I start feeling sorry for myself, and then I remember those who do have it much worse. And I remember Claire. God gave her to me. Me! I'm not perfect, and he still trusts me with her. Keep us all in your prayers.