#realtalk

PNDA

Post.Natal.Depression.&.Anxiety.

Let’s talk about this for a minute.

Today is my birthday. I woke up this morning recalling that a year ago I was on my 8^th day of parenting and had already breastfed my son several times that day. Little did I know the whirlwind of emotions, challenges and darkness I would face within myself in the first year of parenthood.

Pre motherhood I was coated in a perception that I was a tough, capable and independent person who could put my hand to literally just about anything. In this I had my identity, and in childbirth and rearing I lost it all. I felt everything in my life had flipped upside down and this was foreign to me. I started to have anxiety attacks, which stemmed from a traumatic birth, but continued months into my sons life. Because I didn’t want to acknowledge my lack of control I buried my feelings. But as the months went on and I didn’t acknowledge my struggle for what it was, it turned into a deep despair, a darkness that I hadn’t felt before. I experienced an exhaustion that ate away at who I was and my ability to function. It caused me to believe that my son and husband would be better without me, as I felt the weight of my sadness impact my whole family.

I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t want to share my vulnerabilities, my struggle and my perception of failure as a parent and as a person. And the more I hid this reality from myself, the more exhausted and stuck I got.

Someone very near and dear to me visited our family for a few days, which exposed them (unwillingly) to my mental struggle. They convinced me to seek help. Anxiety and depression is a complete battle of the mind and one I never really had faced before. I felt guilty for disliking being a mother; I felt shame for not being able to control my thoughts and emotions. In this guilt and shame I allowed the lie of internalising to eat me up. A light bulb moment for me was when my friend said to me “would you feel guilt or shame if you had a broken leg or were battling a cold or cancer? It’s the same with mental illnesses. They are sicknesses that need treating and you can’t help it. If you could just choose not too, you would, wouldn’t you?” This helped me accept that what was happening was not my fault and let go some of the guilt. It could have been a result of many origins. Hormones, loss of identity, the social isolation or pre conceived expectations. But ultimately it’s not my fault and its ‘OK’ to seek support and help.

I was very blessed that when I sought help it only took a few months to feel like I was coming out of the dark cloud.

How did I overcome it? This is the crux of this story I tell. Now I am on the ‘other side’ of this season, I don’t want the lessons I learned to die in vain. I want others to gain from them too. And I hope for other parents out there struggling with PNDA. Firstly, it’s ok to admit you’re not doing ok. Secondly, that I may be able to point you in the direction of the true healer.

I bit the bullet and went to a therapist. I did not want to take antidepressants for SO many reasons, so went against the doctors orders there and just decided to try therapy first. I underestimated the power of being in a space where you can be totally honest with yourself and get to the root of issues. Despite my Social Work background and knowledge, I so desperately wanted a quick fix, a magic wand. I didn’t necessarily enjoy the process of going through and dealing with the issues in my mind. Although it did help to be challenged where problematic thinking lay, and have a more empowering narrative found within me.

My husband changed lots of patterns in our parenting and within our family that empowered me to feel less drained, and in turn be able to be a more present mother. This included more sleep training for my son ‘to sleep longer’; weaning him from breast milk, and also one day a week my husband takes the reins for my sons care and Mama gets a sleep in. This was all super crucial in being able to get back to myself again, I trust will be different for every woman’s journey.

From the moment I accepted that I had PNAD and sought support, I had an incredibly quick turn around to feeling like that season is behind me. Everything I mentioned, the therapy, my husbands’ support and talking about it with friends helped my recovery. BUT in all truth what helped the most was my personal journey in getting back to the root of who I am. I knew in my head that I am a child of God, created in His perfect image, but I hadn’t immersed myself in it for my heart to realise this. I began a day-by-day journey of submerging myself in the Word of God, listening to preaching, teaching and prayer. This sped up the healing process extraordinarily, as He healed my heart quicker than any therapy could. I found I had an overwhelming sense of not needing to be in control because He is! And I found that when I perused a relationship with my maker, the emptiness faded away. I am so grateful for being well.

Last night someone said to me “imagine if all you had today was what you were grateful for yesterday”. This really got me thinking about the power of gratitude, relationship and surrendering control. Its been a wild journey but one that I was allowed to go through to gain more intimacy in my spiritual life and to grow as a person.

Dear Valentine.

I have to pinch myself that it has been a year with you. Since you made your grand entrance into the world our life has been nothing short of exciting and full. You have grown beyond what I thought was possible in the one year earthside you’ve shared with us. Each day I see you step out in more confidence wanting to explore your world. I love watching you grow in curiosity.

You bright up my days with both challenges and joys. Like peeing in your own mouth as a newborn, or putting a bee in your mouth and it stinging your tongue, or how you kamikaze off just about anything because you are overly confident, daring and willing to try anything. And the joys, like sleeping through the night for the past 7 months, giggling every time you see an animal, having wrestles, saying Mum first and just your overall all cheeky personality which absorbs my heart.

I love when your Daddy and I fight for who is going to lift you from the cot as we both missed you so much while you were sleeping.

I love that you clap your hands in church and sing loudly every time the preacher prays.

I love that you wave to the man for stopping his car for us at the zebra crossing.

I love that you already have a knack for charming people and that you bring out smiles from everyone wherever we go.

I love you my son.

You’re a delight and a joy and I am so privileged and grateful to be your Mama and share life with you. And it is my absolute prayer that you will grow year by year in the revelation of the Holy Spirit, in His mighty power to impact this world in a incredible change making way. I pray that all your characteristics from your non-stop daring nature, to your easy going, friendly, socialite smile will be used for Jesus as He made you with every gift you bestow. My son my greatest prayer is that you will always know what Jesus did for you and want to share your life with Him forever.

I always want you to know how precious you are. With all the love in my heart, your Mama. xxx

This morning marks 6 years waking as a wife.

They say that the most common issue a couple can face is related to M O N E Y. Thank goodness Robin and I totally are on the same page and ‘speak the same language’ when it comes to money. Though, there were two occasions in our six beautiful years of marriage that we did disagree and in hindsight they both cause me to giggle as they were so ridiculous.

The first was when we were in Bali for our three year anniversary. Our budget was tight as we both were University students so we embarked upon three weeks of backpacking in $10 accommodation per night. For that we were able to get gorgeous beach front rooms. We were quite content. I’ve never really holidayed in luxury and overall am a rather down to earth chick BUT when I came across a private villa in the forest with its own swimming pool, outdoor garden shower, stone round bath tub, king size bed, room service and meal included all for $50 per night, it got me all giddy. After all, it was our anniversary. Despite our small wage, I thought we could indulge a little and treat ourselves to two nights there. After all, something like this would cost more than $500 a night back home. So in my excitement I asked my husband who to my surprise protested firmly as it was farrrrr to expensive! He had gotten used to making our small budget stretch and was quite comfortable doing so. He didn’t want to see us indulge unrealistically. Especially considering my proposal was five times the amount we had been paying… safe to say it’s only now that I laugh out loud. At the time I just broke down and an emotional mess and after a few hours of begging and sobbing he finally came around. It turned out to be everything I was hoping for and he rather enjoyed himself too.

Ok. So now I’ve taken the micky out of my Mountain Man for a moment, it’s time to reveal my own ridiculousness. On our tight studying income, as a couple we made a commitment to discuss any purchases over $50. We built and moved into a shed on a farm and in our busyness it took two months to build our compost toilet. So after two months of driving to my mother’s, going in the bush or using public facilities as our bathroom we were thrilled to finish our very own composting toilet. It was working beautifully for about… um… about two weeks. But then residue came, flies were attracted to it and it just wasn’t comfortable. Even so we persisted with it. The final straw with the toilet came when one day I went and there were about a million baby ticks nesting under the lid. Oh my goodness, this was the worst! What followed this wasn’t really a discussion; I simply told Robin that as much as I am a bush girl and can tolerate and even love a lot about the outdoors, I could not deal with this. To his dismay after many hours and weeks of researching and building me the compost toilet, he reluctantly went and bought me a porter potty. I came home that afternoon as he waited for me with this surprise new edition to our home and instead, he caught more grief from me because we hadn’t formally discussed or agreed upon making such a big purchase, well and truly beyond our $50 agreement. Oh my poor darling, all he was trying to do was please his wife.

And in six years of marriage, if they’re the worst blows, I think we’re doing all right. Each day I think to myself, again and again…

I love this man.