mommy visions

Acceptance: Postpartum Anxiety and Me
ParenthoodPostpartum Anxiety & DepressionStuffThe Story

Acceptance: Postpartum Anxiety and Me

by Jill
written by Jill

This is normal…

I told myself.

All mothers worry…

I convinced myself.

I’ll get through this…

I thought.

I’m totally fine…

I hoped.

Nearly 2 weeks ago, after many months of anxiety and irritability, peaking with a full-on anxiety attack at the end of October, I was diagnosed with postpartum anxiety.

I have so much to share with you all about how I got here, what the symptoms were, how I’m coping, what my plan is, but I’m not sure I can get through all of that right now.

I’ll just start with this:

I never knew how on edge I was until I wasn’t.

I started meds nearly 2 weeks ago. While I’m obviously still working through all of this, for the first time in a really long time I finally feel like ME again.

I didn’t even realize *I* was gone until I came back.

I met Katherine Stone at Blogher this year. I’d known of her and the work she does through Postpartum Progress for a while now, but I never paid much attention to the resources on her website because I didn’t think they applied to me. 

I wasn’t depressed.

I never cried. I’m actually quite happy with my life right now… when I’m not completely stressed out, overwhelmed, worried and angry.

At the beginning of October, Katherine reached out to me to help spread the word about Strong Start Day. I was happy to help her out, and, for the first time, I spent a good amount of time on her website in an effort to make myself more familiar with her cause.

As I read through The Symptoms Of Postpartum Depression & Anxiety (in plain mama English) I started shaking my head.

No way. No. This wasn’t me. No. Was it??

Racing thoughts- check
Constantly worried- check
Disturbing thoughts- check
Can’t eat- check
Sense of dread- check
Can’t sleep- no freaking idea since I never have the opportunity to try for more than 3-4 hours at a time
Irritated and angry- CHECK (at EVERYTHING and EVERYONE all. the. time.)
Afraid of things that could potentially harm my baby- CHECK

(I can not go up or down a flight of stairs with my baby without my heart racing. I can’t dream of buying a house with any sort of loft because I’m terrified my children will somehow fall over the railing and die. I can’t even look at a picture of a house with a loft without visualizing this happening.)

Still, knowing all of this fit and that all of this seemed to make my life make a little more sense, I ignored it.

There was nothing really wrong with me. I was just stressed out, I thought.

I quit freelancing projects, backed out of social obligations, and tried to cut myself some more slack.

It didn’t help. Things got worse, and within a few weeks of writing that post about Strong Start Day, I was in a doctor’s office, explaining what lead to an anxiety attack that I thought was a stroke.

When I left the hospital after both of my kids were born with those pamphlets on postpartum depression, I don’t remember seeing anything about anxiety. At my 6 week appointment, my midwife asked if I was suicidal, if I cried a lot, if I felt depressed. I didn’t. I still don’t.

It never occurred to me that what I’m experiencing was anything other than me really sucking at motherhood.

That’s honestly what I thought was wrong- that I’m just a terrible mother.

I’m not.

Sometimes it’s more than just a funk. Sometimes they’re more than just “mommy visions.” Sometimes that worry you can’t shake, the what-ifs and the fears are more than normal motherhood stress. Sometimes not being able to get through the day without yelling at anyone doesn’t just mean you need to work on your temper.

If this is what you’re feeling, know that you’re not a terrible mother, either. Please, make an appointment with your doctor.

You’re not failing at motherhood.

You might actually be sick.

You can get help. You can get better.

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ParenthoodPregnancyThe Story

Night 1 of Our Child Free Staycation- I Admit I’m Panicking A Bit

by Jill
written by Jill

My mother raised three children to adulthood, my mother kept all three of us alive, my mother is a more than capable caregiver…. *deep breath.*

I just handed Kendall off to my mom, gave her complete responsibility for him for the next week. I am CHILD FREE (with the exception of the one that takes up the space in my uterus and keeps kicking me in the bladder) for the next WEEK.

I should be rejoicing, cartwheeling, partying it up, watching a Teen Mom marathon and eating junkfood without having to hide.

I should not be fighting off mommy visions of my 2 year old running off into streets, climbing under cars, getting into trouble, harming himself. I should not be fighting off this anxiety. This is completely unfounded. My mother is going to be just fine taking care of him… right?

It’s just, he’s SO active, and he has a tendency to not listen, and he wears *me* out, and I’m used to him. I’ve been gearing up for the marathon that is toddlerhood for the last 2 years. I have the endurance built up.

AND I’m a paranoid, first-time parent who might have a bit of a control issue. There’s that, too. My helicopter tendencies might be making me twitch just a little, I will admit.

She’s watched him before overnight. Once when we planned to run the marathon in San Antonio last year but wound up with a killer case of food poisoning instead, and once when we went to Sonoma for 4 nights. Each of those times, though, we were doing something, going places, pre-occupied… or vomiting our neurosystems out. We weren’t at home without him. We weren’t just here... living life… like we did before he was born.

So we have a week to spend with each other, to give a little more attention to the dogs. to work on getting some house projects done, and to maybe just go out a few times. We don’t have to worry about bathtime or bedtime tonight. I can sleep in tomorrow as long as I want. I can just pick up and go to the store whenever I feel like it.

I know it’s going to be an awesome “staycation,” and I know Kendall is going to have a BLAST on his vacation away from us out in the country. And my mom? She’s going to be great… but I have a feeling she’s going to be the one in need of a little relaxation come next Sunday night.

Have you ever sent your kid(s) away just so you could spend some time doing nothing (or a lot) around the house? What did you do with your time?

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ParenthoodStuffThe Story

Prioritizing my worry list

by Jill
written by Jill

I don’t think I understood how important it is to “pick your battles” until I became a mom. There are SO MANY small and large battles you could fight, an overwhelming, unending list of things you could worry about.  I learned the hard way in the beginning, but that’s sort of a new mom rite of passage, I think.

I began motherhood knowing that I wouldn’t ever be perfect at it, but dammit, I was going to freaking try! And so I fought all those unending battles – finding all the *best* gear, keeping clothes stain free, always having more than enough diapers in the diaper bag (and a backup stash in the car), doing everything in my power to make sure that my screaming baby never disturbed anyone other than myself while out in public (leading me to have no choice but to lock myself and my infant in our house for three months), keeping every spec of dust and debris out of reach of my precious child and his curious hands. Then, well, I was tired. I was SO TIRED. And so I started prioritizing… or maybe I just got lazy. Regardless, it made life easier. It lowered my stress level, and now I don’t feel so pressured to try so hard.

Kodak, the sponsor of this week’s lovely JuiceBoxJungle ad >>>, wants to know what three things are at the top and what three are at the bottom of my mom worry list, so here they are.

TOP

1. My kid’s safety – I’ve blogged about my Mommy Visions on here before, and how I can look at nearly anything that’s seemingly innocent and innocuous and vividly imagine how it might hurt or kill my child. I obsess about things like when to turn his car seat around, and what I’m going to do with him at the grocery store when he’s over 35 lbs because those grocery carts say it’s only safe to put them in the front up to 35 lbs.

2. What he eats- I’ve also recently started writing a lot about our efforts to eat more local, responsibly raised, sustainable. and organic food. However, from day one I’ve always been pretty consumed with what he’s consuming. I spent hours researching what fruits and vegetables I should introduce to him first and how to prepare them. I strive to offer a rainbow of whole foods at every meal. I truly think that my efforts are being rewarded by seeing how much my toddler loves nearly every fruit and vegetable he tries. I will say, though, that I don’t think of myself as a food Nazi. He’s had plenty of “bad” stuff from time to time, mainly because I don’t believe banning anything is going to do him any good.

3. His manners – It really stresses me out when he acts out in public. It truly does. Fortunately, I have to say it’s pretty rare. He seems to save most of his outbursts for when we’re home…. or stuck on a plane (which absolutely had me sweating bullets, but thankfully we don’t fly often). From 12 months to 18 months I was at a loss. He was a tiny little terrorist and I had no idea how to control him. He didn’t understand discipline, and I felt like everything I did to correct his behavior was only making it worse. I’m happy to report that the last few months have been much better. He at least understands the concept of timeout now. If I could just get him to stop laughing and running from me every time I tell him to do anything, I would be pretty happy with where we are in terms of his behavior.

BOTTOM

1. Falls – Okay, oddly enough, I don’t even flinch when the kid falls anymore. Crazy coming from a mom whose number one worry is her child’s safety, I know. I think I’ve just come to terms with the fact that my little boy is a rowdy ball of energy, and he must have a pretty thick noggin. Also, it’s possible he’s part rubber. He falls all. the. time. The majority of the falls actually make him laugh. He also walks into things, like walls and windows, because he’s never looking where he’s going. He’s normally running away from me, looking over one shoulder and cackling like a little evil warlock. Then SMACK. I feel bad because when we’re around other moms and he falls they audibly gasp, run to him, soothe him, and ask if he’s okay all before I’ve taken a step. “Oh, he’s fine,” I always holler at them from across the room. And he almost always is.

2. TV-  I know this is a heated topic, but it’s one I just don’t feel that passionately about. I’m not killing myself trying to make sure my child isn’t exposed to TV until college, or even the first few years, BUT THE STUDIES!! some of you are shouting at your computer screen. Listen, I didn’t plug my kid in front of Baby Einstein for hours on end as an infant hoping he’d know his colors and shapes by his 1st birthday, and it’s not like he’s sitting in front of a TV, zoning out all his waking hours. I’d be lying, though, if I said I don’t rely on a little help from PBS, Nick Jr. and Sprout to get me through my day. As much as I want him to go play with his “open ended” toys that inspire creativity and imagination, many times it’s just not happening, and I need to get the dishwasher loaded without him trying to inspire himself by running off with a steak knife. Also, sometimes he just really wants to watch “Go-go” (Diego), and I just really want to drink some coffee and check Facebook.

3. Messes- This one extends a little bit further beyond mom into the Stay At Home Mom category, for me. When we made the decision that I would stay at home, I remember telling my husband how our house would be SO clean because I would have “so much time” to do things like mop the floors and organize the pantry. Really, I *actually* thought that… until I had my outside baby. I was drowning in guilt the first 6 or 8 months of Kendall’s life, trying so hard to stay on top of everything, including all the household chores that I HATED while living off of next to no sleep. Then I had a lightbulb moment one day when I finally accepted that my “job” is a stay at home MOM, not a stay at home mom/housekeeper/organizer, and I was actually doing quite well at the MOM part. Our house is clean most of the time to a certain degree, but don’t go looking at my baseboards or my tile grout. There are splatters of dog slobber crusted to the wall here and there that will probably only disappear after we paint over them. There is food permanently stuck inside a ridge lining the perimeter of my kitchen table. I don’t care. I tell myself all the time, “A toddler lives here, 2 dogs and a cat live here, a maid does NOT live here.”

So what about you? What are your top and bottom 3? I’m sure everyone’s answers will vary, but it will be interesting to see which ones end up being the most popular.

Kendall is 21 months old, and right now I’m not worried he’s been napping for nearly 3 and a half hours

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Stuff

Worst Parents of the Millennium

by Jill
written by Jill

The story caught my attention first when I saw a random tweet, something along the lines of “A 6 year old flying away in a craft project??” Minutes later I read the story out of Fort Collins. I turned CNN on and couldn’t avert my eyes the rest of my son’s 2 hour nap. I sat on the couch, fists clenched, breath held, and watched in terror as this homemade flying saucer tore through the sky, and at the time it was believed a 6 year old boy was in it.

OMG. I could NOT imagine. That poor kid. THOSE POOR PARENTS. It looked so fragile and so high. What if it popped? What if it crashed? What if there was a plane? What if the bottom fell out? You want to talk about Mommy Visions, well I had a serious case of them. I wanted to hurl. I wanted to puke all over the place just thinking of that poor boy, so scared, crying, helpless, maybe deprived of oxygen, maybe passed out. I CRIED.  What a freak accident! What were the chances?!

Then they reported that he might have fallen out. WHAT? NO!! OMG. The visions, the visions were terrible, and the puking… it was in my throat… and I BAWLED. I did. I sobbed and I weeped and I cried my eyes out at the mere *thought* of that poor baby falling out. I prayed, which is something I, admittedly, do not do very often. I prayed the whole time I was watching it. I prayed out loud.

Then it landed. Oh, the landing was so nerve wracking, but I was so glad to see it come down so softly… but he wasn’t there. Then I cried some more. I cried off and on until I heard and interview with the Larimer County Sherriff’s department saying they were pretty sure he’s just hiding somewhere, afraid of getting in trouble.

I wanted to believe that, so I did, and I felt better… just a little bit. I hoped with all I had that he was just so afraid of setting free daddy’s toy that he hid, oblivious that the world stopped for him.

Then I saw this video where he and his two little brothers rap about “pussification”, and it made me really question his parent’s sanity. Who in their right mind encourages their sons to behave this way and say these things, especially so much as to go and produce and star in a video for them on YouTube? But whatever… I just wanted him to be found… and he was… and I was SO HAPPY. So happy.

Then I saw this clip from CNN, and I heard the words come out of Falcon’s (Balloon Boy) mouth in response to his dad relaying Wolf’s question, “Falcon, did you hear us calling your name at any time? … Why didn’t you come out?” to which he replied, “Uh… you guys said…. that we did this for the show.” WHAT THE HELL?? NO, really, WHAT? I watched it over and over, and it’s so apparent to me by the way he says it and the way the parents try to cover it up that he just busted his parents on live TV.

And now I’m PISSED. I’m so pissed. I PRAYED for your son today. I CRIED for you and your family today. I almost PUKED. Screw you Richard and Mayumi Heene… no… take that back… FUCK YOU.

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BabiesParenthoodPopular PostsPostpartum Anxiety & DepressionStuff

“Mommy Visions” – this is not a funny post

by Jill
written by Jill

Ugh. Just heard a report on the news that a 2 month old was found dead in Ft. Worth, stuck in a crack between the bed and the wall. WHY do I now, since having a baby, have the freakish, super human ability to vividly envision this and any other scenario that involves babies/children, death, blood, bodily harm? And I can’t stop it. I can’t. It’s like as soon as I hear about anything like this, it’s there, the vision. It’s there, it’s real, and all I can do is shudder and will it away.  But will it go away? No, it will be there all night. I will think about it all week. It will play itself out in my mind like a horror movie that I can’t stop.

I’ve struggled with what I’ve called “mommy visions” since Kendall was born. Perhaps the strongest, most frightening, most suffocating, most gut wrenching one I ever had to shake from the depths of my inner being was the vision of accidentally dropping Kendall over the top of the railing on the 4th floor of Embassy suites when he was nearly 5 months old. I am not exaggerating when I say that I was shaking in bed that night, wanting to puke, tossing and turning, the scene playing over and over in my head. It is probably the closest I’ve ever felt to a panic attack. I could not take Kendall beyond the threshold of the room door without securely strapping him into his lower than the railing stroller seat the entire time we were there.

I chalked it up to new mom nerves, a newborn that rarely slept and hormones, thinking for sure these visions would back off. While I can say that I haven’t had such a guttural reaction to one since, I tend to think it’s only because I’ve learned how to deal with them better and not because they’ve decreased in frequency and intensity.

I was incredibly relieved to talk to a friend today who happens to have a little girl around Kendall’s age and hear that she, too, suffers the same, vivid, horrible, disgusting visions.  So I guess this is all just part of motherhood? It doesn’t ever go away?  I would really like it if it did. I didn’t ask for this super power, and it didn’t come with a cool cape or anything. I don’t even get to be invisible.

Kendall is 17 months and three days old… and now I’m off to go check on him, watch him sleep and make sure he’s breathing

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The StoryToddlers

A Sneaky Toddler Tale

by Jill
written by Jill

Kendall is a little obsessed with elevators ever since our stay at the Embassy Suites with the glass ones that he could look out. He loves to push the buttons and go in and out of them and up and down.  Last week we took my dad to some doctor’s appointments and had to wait an hour for him to get out, so I entertained Kendall part of the time by riding the elevators.

Then, between my dad’s appointments, we were hanging out in the hall, my dad chasing Kendall (who happened to have commandeered my phone and appeared to be texting someone), while I was checking out something of minimal importance on my dad’s Iphone.  The second doctor emerged and called for my dad who then turned around and headed back to the office, about 50 feet away.  Clearly, it’s been a while since my dad has dealt with a sly toddler, and I have obviously underestimated how fast and sneaky toddlers can be.

They happened to be standing right by the elevators when all this happened and at the very moment my dad turned around and headed back, the elevator opened, Kendall toddled in (still texting, looking very businesslike in his polo shirt and plaid pants) and I nearly shit my pants as I screamed, “Sco…DAD…ELEVATOR!!!” Then I started hauling ass across the hall, freaking out the doctor, figuring in my head that I’d get there faster than I could get my thoughts from my brain out of my mouth.

My dad managed to reach inside the elevator and grab Kendall just as the doors were shutting.  

Oh….My…GOD.  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  I have no idea what we would have done if the doors had shut!  The elevator didn’t say if it went up or down.  There were 7 floors and we were on the 4th. The mommy visions started the minute he was successfully rescued from the elevator.  What if…what if…what if? Ugh. I hate to think of it all.

Despite the mommy visions and the what ifs, it’s definitely one of those experiences that’s funny to look back on, you know, since it ended well, and all.  I feel bad, but all I can do now is laugh at how funny it would have been for a doctor on another floor to see Kendall standing there, as the elevator opened, still “texting” in his little man outfit, just like a tiny little business professional. My own little Doogie Howser.

Kendall is exactly 14 months old

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