Wednesday, May 29, 2013
My Perfect* Son
Tonight I went and laid next to my oldest son while he slept. I snuggled up next to him and listened to him breathe. Were there times I was short with him today? Maybe...but he knows I love him and I always will...no matter what. This time though, was completely perfect. Rain falling outside, I let my breathing get in sync with his. I pretended this means our hearts are beating in sync too, which means he will always be my baby, and I will always be his momma. I love him more with each new thing I learn about him or watch him learn about the world. I had to capture this moment of mommy elation, because Lord knows when I step on a Lego tomorrow, I'm going to need it. But for now I'm off to bed, thankful for my perfect [while he is sleeping] angel. XO, BC.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
The Darkness Before the Light
Almost exactly a year ago, I remember sitting with a dear friend at the park and confiding in her something that I was really afraid to verbalize up until then. While watching the kids play and sipping on our chocolate shakes, I said, "I'm afraid that I will never have a strong connection with Gavin."
There were several reasons for me to say this. He always had gravitated toward Ryan, we are so much alike that we often butt heads, but mostly I was afraid that I had lost that critical bonding time with him when he was so small. I went into a deep, dark postpartum depression that scared me to the core. The truth of the matter is, I don't remember a lot of those earlier days with Gavin. I think the memories are fuzzy as a way of protecting me, because as most of my friends and family know, my memory is like a steel trap (except for things I need at the store or errands I should run). I remember the first few weeks when my mom stayed with us, but after that it kind of becomes a haze of colicky nights and mastering the art of avoiding other people. There were also a lot of other stressful things happening in our lives at that time with my work, family health, etc...that certainly didn't add to the situation. I have a few memories that were bright moments of perfection that pierced the darkness that surrounded my soul. I remember things like going to the kiddie park, trips to Kansas City and visiting family, but the day-to-day stuff, the place where life really happens, is kind of a blur. Not everything was bad, I mean, how can it be with a baby as precious as Gavin (once the colicky part was done). There were days that were better than others, I have pictures where I can see real and genuine smiles, but there's a lot where you can also see a smile that isn't really there.
I have started praying in the last year or so that God would give me back the memories without showing me the darkness that I was living in during that time. It's the kind of darkness that if light was shined on it, the light wouldn't make the darkness disappear, it would just illuminate all of the ugliness that the darkness had caused. Thank God that I had a friend who cared about me enough to resist the way I was pushing her [everyone] away, and suggest that I consider my options as far as medication*. I couldn't go back though, and by the time that cracks of light began to shine through, I had missed a lot. I pray that I am a natural enough mother that I was as good to him during that time as I should have been.
When Gavin was 10 months old, I was rocking him and I remember I started singing to him. It was such a breakthrough and I was crying because I felt like I really wanted to sing. It wasn't a halfhearted rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle anymore. I wanted to sing to my boy in a way that he would know that his momma loved him. We picked up from there. I couldn't think about everything I had missed.
My husband was amazing with Gavin. He must have just known exactly what he needed and gave it to him. They were a natural fit. My little boy who shared my looks had a heart that belonged to his one and only, his daddy. I am so glad they have that bond, and it's hardly fair for me to be jealous of it, because the connection I have always had with Brennon (Ryan's mini-me) has been strong. At this time, Ryan was also staying home with the boys during the day while I worked. (And then he worked at night....go, husband! I mean, I can't imagine working and then working some more. He's a champion!) So it seemed natural that Gavin would be close with him, but it still hurt my feelings that every time he got hurt or scared, he never wanted me. He wanted his daddy. But that day in the park, I said what I was really afraid of, and it just made me more scared.
Although I'm going to stop here, please don't be sad for me. I want you to understand my story, my journey, where and how far I've come. Because the story is far from over, and I think you needed to see this part, because this part has shaped me, so that when I talk to you about what happens next, you will smile along with me too.
*I am in no way suggesting that medication is the necessary treatment for everyone who experiences postpartum depression. I am simply stating that it is a very real medical condition and ignoring it or pretending it is not there will not make it go away.
There were several reasons for me to say this. He always had gravitated toward Ryan, we are so much alike that we often butt heads, but mostly I was afraid that I had lost that critical bonding time with him when he was so small. I went into a deep, dark postpartum depression that scared me to the core. The truth of the matter is, I don't remember a lot of those earlier days with Gavin. I think the memories are fuzzy as a way of protecting me, because as most of my friends and family know, my memory is like a steel trap (except for things I need at the store or errands I should run). I remember the first few weeks when my mom stayed with us, but after that it kind of becomes a haze of colicky nights and mastering the art of avoiding other people. There were also a lot of other stressful things happening in our lives at that time with my work, family health, etc...that certainly didn't add to the situation. I have a few memories that were bright moments of perfection that pierced the darkness that surrounded my soul. I remember things like going to the kiddie park, trips to Kansas City and visiting family, but the day-to-day stuff, the place where life really happens, is kind of a blur. Not everything was bad, I mean, how can it be with a baby as precious as Gavin (once the colicky part was done). There were days that were better than others, I have pictures where I can see real and genuine smiles, but there's a lot where you can also see a smile that isn't really there.
 |
| Gavin's first laugh. This I remember. |
 |
| Thank God I was with it enough to plan this. I mean, how cute are they? |
 |
| Gavin's first Christmas. More real smiles from both of us. |
 |
| This picture made me sad. This is an example of the blur of this time. I cannot remember Brennon's room ever being arranged this way. I just kept staring at it and wondering if I had a hand in it. |
When Gavin was 10 months old, I was rocking him and I remember I started singing to him. It was such a breakthrough and I was crying because I felt like I really wanted to sing. It wasn't a halfhearted rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle anymore. I wanted to sing to my boy in a way that he would know that his momma loved him. We picked up from there. I couldn't think about everything I had missed.
My husband was amazing with Gavin. He must have just known exactly what he needed and gave it to him. They were a natural fit. My little boy who shared my looks had a heart that belonged to his one and only, his daddy. I am so glad they have that bond, and it's hardly fair for me to be jealous of it, because the connection I have always had with Brennon (Ryan's mini-me) has been strong. At this time, Ryan was also staying home with the boys during the day while I worked. (And then he worked at night....go, husband! I mean, I can't imagine working and then working some more. He's a champion!) So it seemed natural that Gavin would be close with him, but it still hurt my feelings that every time he got hurt or scared, he never wanted me. He wanted his daddy. But that day in the park, I said what I was really afraid of, and it just made me more scared.
Although I'm going to stop here, please don't be sad for me. I want you to understand my story, my journey, where and how far I've come. Because the story is far from over, and I think you needed to see this part, because this part has shaped me, so that when I talk to you about what happens next, you will smile along with me too.
*I am in no way suggesting that medication is the necessary treatment for everyone who experiences postpartum depression. I am simply stating that it is a very real medical condition and ignoring it or pretending it is not there will not make it go away.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
The Fight that Gets Us Fired Up, Conclusion
It's been three weeks since I told you to come back tomorrow. For three weeks I've been sitting on that lovely stump called writer's block, but the truth of the matter is that sometimes the best way to get past it is just to write anyway. It's not always pretty and polished, and sometimes it's just downright ugly, but I have to forge ahead. (Also, I'm going on nine months without a good night's sleep, so if you think it's terrible, I'll allow you to say, "Bless her heart, she must be tired.") When I started the series about stay-at-home vs. working moms, I had a million thoughts swimming through my brain, but I just can't quite seem to really get a grip on a single one. So, I'm going to be a truth-teller, and I can't worry any more about who I'm going to offend or who is going to look at me differently. For me, it all boils down to this....I'm scared.
I did them both, and I did the best I could at it. Well, most of the time I did. For me, the choice is clear that I would love to be at home for as long as I could, but the fact of the matter is that it's just not feasible for our family. I wish it was, but it's not. I'm not resentful of the fact that I'll be going back to work, but that doesn't mean that I won't cry sometimes. I know that so much is going to change as I do return to the world of working moms. I'd like to say that I will cherish each moment with them and make every moment count, but I won't. I'll do my best, but sometimes I'll be tired. Sometimes the best that I'll be able to do is sit on the couch at the end of the day and watch four episodes of Peppa Pig. I don't judge other moms for doing it, so I'll try to forgive myself as well. I'll look for those Kairos moments when time stands still and things are perfect, and I will cherish that moment and hold it in my heart with a death grip while I go through my work days until the next time one presents itself.
More than anything I am scared because I don't want my friendships to change. I have been on the mountains and in the trenches of stay-at-home mommyhood this year, and I know that sometimes moms need an outlet, and soon I'll have work for that while my friends who stay-at-home will be desperately seeking time with other adults and conversations that do not include words like potty or boo-boo. And although I love teaching and I'm thankful for my career, my heart will ache to be at home, so I'm afraid. I'm afraid, because I know that sometimes I hear SAHMS complaining about how they feel like they are going to go crazy being home. Believe me, I've had my days, but I try so hard to keep my complaints to those few friends who have seen me at my best and worst, because I know that broadcasting my "poor me, I have to spend all my time with my children" rants on the Internet is only going to twist the knife of jealousy into the wound of those who desire with everything in them to be at home.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to try to make my life seem perfect....it's not. Being a mom is HARD, and being a wife is HARD, and sometimes being a friend is HARD, but pretending to be a perfect mom, wife, or friend is harder. And the hard work of being any and all of those is what makes life so beautiful. So, whether you love it or hate it, remember that your words effect those in your circle. Don't judge others for whatever motherhood choices they are making, because you never know their reasons, their stories, or their journeys unless you're willing to really listen.
I did them both, and I did the best I could at it. Well, most of the time I did. For me, the choice is clear that I would love to be at home for as long as I could, but the fact of the matter is that it's just not feasible for our family. I wish it was, but it's not. I'm not resentful of the fact that I'll be going back to work, but that doesn't mean that I won't cry sometimes. I know that so much is going to change as I do return to the world of working moms. I'd like to say that I will cherish each moment with them and make every moment count, but I won't. I'll do my best, but sometimes I'll be tired. Sometimes the best that I'll be able to do is sit on the couch at the end of the day and watch four episodes of Peppa Pig. I don't judge other moms for doing it, so I'll try to forgive myself as well. I'll look for those Kairos moments when time stands still and things are perfect, and I will cherish that moment and hold it in my heart with a death grip while I go through my work days until the next time one presents itself.
More than anything I am scared because I don't want my friendships to change. I have been on the mountains and in the trenches of stay-at-home mommyhood this year, and I know that sometimes moms need an outlet, and soon I'll have work for that while my friends who stay-at-home will be desperately seeking time with other adults and conversations that do not include words like potty or boo-boo. And although I love teaching and I'm thankful for my career, my heart will ache to be at home, so I'm afraid. I'm afraid, because I know that sometimes I hear SAHMS complaining about how they feel like they are going to go crazy being home. Believe me, I've had my days, but I try so hard to keep my complaints to those few friends who have seen me at my best and worst, because I know that broadcasting my "poor me, I have to spend all my time with my children" rants on the Internet is only going to twist the knife of jealousy into the wound of those who desire with everything in them to be at home.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to try to make my life seem perfect....it's not. Being a mom is HARD, and being a wife is HARD, and sometimes being a friend is HARD, but pretending to be a perfect mom, wife, or friend is harder. And the hard work of being any and all of those is what makes life so beautiful. So, whether you love it or hate it, remember that your words effect those in your circle. Don't judge others for whatever motherhood choices they are making, because you never know their reasons, their stories, or their journeys unless you're willing to really listen.
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