I Have To Admit.

I'm so sorry (not sorry) that my posts are not as upbeat and vivacious as I'd like them to be. They're real, raw, and uncut (what show is that from?). I just feel that I have to be honest.....I don't feel like I can confide in any one person about this stuff, so I might as well confide in all of you. I deeply apologize if this upsets you or changes your opinion of me, but I physically cannot pretend to be okay any longer when I'm not. Most of the time, I feel like I'm underwater, desperately clawing my way back to air. Every time I break the surface, I get pulled back under by the riptide. Occasionally, someone at shore will see me and yell, "You're doing a great job! Keep going, you can do it!" But you know what? They're standing safely on land, warm and dry. They don't know what it feels like, and they're not even offering a rope, much less swimming out to meet me where I am. I take that back. There was someone wading in, finding perfection in my flaws and my struggle. They got close enough to grip my fingers, and then....abruptly turned away. I have multiple anxiety attacks each week. I can't sleep, and instead spend my nights worrying and trying to pray myself out of the current. Oh God, please don't get me wrong: I'm happy. My son's smile lights my whole world and I have so much to be thankful for. I just feel incredibly, earth-shakingly alone most days. I have so much going on that I'm surprised I remember to shower. I need someone to hold my hand, give me a hug, and let me be me....but it's so hard to let them in. I can't help but to feel that no one should have to bear this burden. To compound this, Sawyer's daycare director told me that she doesn't feel that I'm as involved as I should be. She doesn't see me except when I drop him off before school and she's "concerned." As if I don't already feel inadequate enough (I had to stop breastfeeding, I go to school in the morning and come home from work to a sleeping boy at night, etc.), today one of my worst fears as a mother came true: I slipped on wet tile while carrying my baby, and we both hit the floor. I managed to hang on to him until the very last second, but he still got scared and a puffy eye. I cried for hours. I am the one person in the world he's supposed to depend on and trust, and I let him down. I had been free of anxiety and loneliness for THREE DAYS, and slid my way right back in. I feel like I need to say it again: I'm happy and grateful for life, and I still manage to find the humor in everything. I only want for a hand to hold and someone to stand firm at my side, come what may. Someone nearby has the key to all my locked doors, I can feel it. Where are you? I'm sure I know you already; your spirit seems familiar. When?

I'm sorry I'm such a rambly mess. Lots of weird stuff accumulates in your brain when you can't sleep and have anxiety. It will get better soon, pinky promise.

Postpartum What?

In the hospital after you deliver your baby, they will tell you the warning signs of Postpartum Depression. They will tell you to tell someone if you experience them, because you could be a danger to your child. They will tell you that you will experience the "baby blues" sometime in the first six weeks and if they last longer than two weeks, GET HELP. What they will not tell you is this: it takes a very, very long time for some women's hormones to adjust back to normal (whatever that is, am I right? Ha.). Little things can make you cry for hours on end and maybe even make you question your decision to go through with this whole parenting thing. What I am going to tell you is this: it's alright. IT'S OKAY TO CRY. LET. IT. OUT. Even with all the support in the world, you will be overwhelmed. Your emotions will hit you like a speeding train out of nowhere. You cannot keep this inside, and you should not keep your tears to yourself. Let someone see you break down, and when they ask what they can do to help, do not try to be strong and independent. Tell them what you need, and let them do it for you. Do not feel guilty for allowing someone to help you in this brand-new-scary-as-crap journey. Let me say it again for y'all in the back. Do not feel guilty for allowing someone to help you! You are not a bad mother for accepting help. I, of course, don't follow any of this advice I'm dishing out. I cry by myself, at least once a week. I try not to ask any favors, because since I'm in school and work, I already get a lot of help. Every time something minimally negative happens, my anxiety goes through the roof and I can feel my insides melting. All I've wanted for the past 6 months is for someone to hug me and listen to what I have to say. But that's not the point here, I'm rambling. The point here is that postpartum hormonal issues are normal and WILL happen to you sometimes more than a year after bringing your miracle into the world. What is not normal, and you need to contact your doctor (not a friend/spouse/whatever) for, feeling like you want to hurt yourself or your baby, fear that you will go through with harming yourself or your baby, and depressions symptoms lasting more than two weeks.  Depression symptoms include: lack of energy, loss of interest in your favorite things, general aches and heaviness, and severe feelings of inadequacy. Do not be ashamed to get help. Do not let anyone make you feel like less of a mother if this happens to you. Do not let anyone tell you that Postpartum Depression doesn't exist. Tomorrow's post will be postpartum joys! It was supposed to be today's post, but I've had a hormone-heavy couple of days and I felt like someone out there needed my honesty. In summation: it's hard to keep your s**t together as a new mommy, and it's cool to cry it out.

Love y'all! ❤

Well, Well, Well

SO it's been a while! As some of you may know, I became a Mom to the sweetest, most perfect little boy on October 23, 2015...and as of January 11, 2016, I also became a Vet Tech student! Now I've got three full-time jobs: work, school, and motherhood. AND I love every minute of it. Alright, alright, now we've got to get down to the hard stuff. Having my son gave me a huge push to pursue my passion and make a better life for both of us, and I'm impressed that I took the leap. But, God, I've been so stressed the past couple weeks. It's hard living with the guilt of only seeing my son awake for an hour every day. It's hard dealing with feelings of inadequacy as a mother and as a woman every day. It's hard waking up at 6, getting myself and my son ready to leave by 7:45 so I can get to school by 8:30, rushing to eat lunch after school, working til 9, eating dinner at 10, going to sleep around 12, getting up at 2 and 4:30 to breastfeed, and doing it all again. It's hard wondering if I'm doing the right things. And it's especially hard wondering if someone will love me again the way Noah loved Allie, and feeling guilty that I wonder that so soon after becoming a mother. With that said, I wouldn't trade that one hour of awake cuddles for all the free time in the world. I'm working so hard every day and I just want someone to be proud of me. It's impossible to know what I've been though to get here...hell, it's a miracle I'm here to tell my story...but honestly I'm ashamed at how often I've screamed in frustration on the way home from school because I just want someone (other than my parents; they're like required to be proud) to be proud of what I'm doing. Mostly it's my fault. When I look in the mirror, I see an exhausted woman riddled with worry lines and eye bags, and with her insecurities written all over her face. What if I miss Sawyer's first laugh because I decided to go back to school? What if he calls my Mom 'Momma' instead of me? Why is my milk supply STILL decreasing? That's the only bonding time we have right now! Ugh. Despite all of this, I know deep down that I'm doing exactly what needs to be done. I'M proud of me. I aim every day to put more into the world than I take from it, and my ultimate goal is to shine light and love to everyone who comes across my path. I want to ease the pain of those who can't verbalize what's wrong. My son will grow up knowing what respect and compassion are, and that his mother loves him so much that she didn't take the easy way in life. I'm struggling, I'm happy, and I will be successful. I'm stronger than anything that tries to get in my way.

I promise not every post will be as heavy as this one...I guess I just needed to get that weight off my chest. Until next time, be kind to everyone around you, especially the furry ones who can't speak English! :)