Archives for May 2011

Love Letter to My Middle Sister

May 12, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Dear M.,

When we got married you gave Rich and I a gift. An intangible gift, but one you managed to capture in words.

“On this day, I can think of only one thing to offer.”

It wasn’t a present. It was a gift. A extraordinarily beautiful gift.

“You have given it to me. Others have received it as well. In fact it is given all over this great Earth. No one should go without it.”

I knew this, but not the way you knew it. You knew this, and among your many strengths this is one of your most powerful.

“It is something that, if properly maintained, respected and contributed to, will never wilt or disappear.”

You gave us this gift nearly seven years ago, and during the time since I have often felt I didn’t nurture this gift enough. I was never afraid it would disappear, but I’m not sure I contributed equally to its upkeep.

“Its value cannot be measured and is rarely appreciated enough.”

You’re right, it can’t be measured, though I’ve always appreciated this gift you so freely offer to those around you. But I’ve never, never appreciated the value of this gift more than in the last couple of weeks. I’m overwhelmed by it, and the fact that you have given it to us.

When you came over Easter weekend I was happy to see you. No, not happy. Really, really glad. Relieved. My whole family was here that weekend and it felt like a buffer. It felt like you were all standing around the three of us holding hands and blocking everything else out. When you all left, I knew that support was still there, but I felt a little bit more alone.

Last Tuesday, when I came downstairs in the morning and Connor said, “Auntie ‘Shell is coming over today,” I just smiled.

“I don’t think so, honey,” I said. “She went back on the plane. She’s back at home.”

I didn’t believe him when he revealed that secret, so when you walked into the living room I didn’t know what to think. How could you be back so soon? Why were you back?

But I knew why. And I was glad.

“It is not a one-way gift. It is hard to give and not get back.”

Over the last week and a half, you have given me so much more than you will ever know. I can never repay you for distracting Connor when I couldn’t do it. I want to package up time and sleep and give it to you when you need it in exchange for those mornings you got up with him so we could sleep. I want to give you everything I have – every nourishing thing, every comforting thing, every beautiful thing – for coming, without being asked, when I needed you to come. For knowing when I needed to talk and when I needed to be silent. For seeing in my son what I sometimes don’t. For seeing in me what I felt was lost. For just being here and bringing the most precious gift I have ever received.

“FRIENDSHIP. My friends are my family and my family are my friends.”

I couldn’t ask for a better family but I will never forget your gift of friendship when I needed it most.

Filed Under: Happy things · Tagged With: family, gratitude, love

Wants vs. Needs

May 10, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I was late for the appointment because I couldn’t find the right building. Turns out I had driven by hundreds of time before – with a movie rental place and liquor store on the ground level, it just wasn’t the sort of place I expected to find a counsellor’s office.

I went inside, where the interior was equally nondescript. Upstairs, I knocked tentatively on her office door. She invited me to sit while she finished some paperwork, which gave me a chance to look around.

Dowdy is the word that came to mind. I don’t remember anything on the walls, though there must have been something. She seemed the type who might decorate with paintings of kittens. The window looked out over the parking lot, and the busy road beyond hummed with traffic. I’d driven by so many times and yet never knew what went on up here. What heartbreaks and secrets and struggles were poured out on the top floor of this white building with a technical-sounding name that always seemed to me as though it had no personality.

The counsellor fit right in with the unremarkable environment. She appeared to be in her late 50s, with nothing to suggest she might be younger. Small, but not petite. Frumpy clothes. And her name – the “doctor” title and male first name, which I’d never heard for a woman – made her seem more academic than therapist.

As we talked, my impression that we wouldn’t click was reinforced, but she was clearly a very caring person. She didn’t specialize in – nor, apparently, know much about – postpartum depression, and I allowed that to be a disadvantage for her.

We talked about the usual things – taking time for myself, strategies for when I’m struggling, assumptions we’ve made about what our “working mom” and “stay-at-home dad” roles must be. “Trigger” was not a word I knew then, but it wasn’t something I expect she’d have uttered. Her commentary was all stuff I’d heard before, so I mostly dismissed it. Either I wasn’t open to it or it didn’t address my most pressing issue. Absolutely losing my cool when dealing with my child, with no sense in the moment of how to regain it, seemed to be buried unacknowledged under the typical advice about motherhood. But, for me, it was so much more complicated than that.

“He screams for milk,” I’d explained, “and if we give it to him late in the afternoon he won’t eat dinner. It’s become a battle I don’t see an end to, and I’m not coping.”

“I’m not getting enough time to myself,” I’d complained, imagining the desperation physically dripping from my lips. “Sometimes I just need five minutes so I don’t feel like I’m going to lose my mind, but my husband has been home with him all day and I feel like I have to be on when I walk through the door.”

And then, as we neared the end and I prepared for the inevitable awkward wrap-up, she said something.

“Wants and needs are different things.”

He’s two, she noted, so sometimes he just wants milk. But sometimes, especially at hard times of the day, he needs milk.

The same was true for my “needs”. Sometimes I want more time to myself – more time than is realistic for any mother regardless of her situation. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to go home. Sometimes I end up at work late and am secretly glad it will reduce the minutes I have to endure until bedtime.

I’m not always going to get that time. Sometimes I want it, and other things come first. But sometimes I need it. At the time of that session – months ago now – I needed it when I walked through the door at the end of the day. I had a toddler running at me, screaming with excitement, and a dog jumping and barking. Both greetings I appreciate for their non-verbal I-love-and-missed-you message, but absolutely overwhelming.

So I took her observation to heart and allowed myself to need that five minutes. I told my precious son he was not allowed to come upstairs with me while I got changed, and my husband helped distract him if necessary. Sometimes after changing out of work clothes I sat on the bed and took deep breaths. Sometimes it was 10 minutes instead of five, but when I came back downstairs I was ready. Ready to play, ready to tumble, ready to do whatever was required of me when I put that mama hat back on.

Wants vs. needs. I’m learning to understand the difference.

Filed Under: Motherhood, Postpartum depression · Tagged With: perspective

Hello Inspiration – Signs of Support

May 9, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Since yesterday was Mother’s Day, I’m moving Hello, Inspiration to Monday this week. Hopefully that won’t throw you all off, since I’ve been doing this a whole two weeks now.

I had a variety of sources of inspiration this week, some more easy to describe than others.

It Gets Better

One of them was a video. Most people have probably heard of the It Gets Better Project, which I think is a great thing, but I saw this ad on TV and I think it’s amazing. It’s well done, but it’s a message that can apply in so many situations. Maybe that’s why it stuck with me.

[Update: Damn, sorry, they removed the video.]

Dreaming Big

I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer, and there are a lot of things I want to accomplish in my life. There are some things that are not on my life list but now may need to be. Or maybe it’s more than that. I think I have a new Definite Chief Aim – my most important goals in life. As part of exploring what that might be – or perhaps how it might come to be – I’ve signed up for Mondo Beyondo’s Dreaming Big online class.

I gave my mom one of their courses for Mother’s Day last year, and she really liked it. Here’s the description for this one:

This five week online class complete with inspiring lessons, real life stories, secret missions, audio interviews and hands-on activities will help you take your dreams from the realm of wishing into everyday motion.

I’m not generally shy about going after what I want to do, but a little inspiration and insight from others along the way can’t hurt.

The course starts May 16 and costs $99 US and right now they’re offering a 2 for 1 deal. If you want to learn more, click the image below. (Full disclosure: that’s an affiliate link so if you happen to register I get a little something. And you get a cool class and some good karma.)

Signs and the Rock of Friendship

My last source of inspiration is harder to describe. It’s a you-had-to-be-there sort of thing, but it’s worth adding to this list because it’s connected to the concepts behind both of the above and to this roller coaster of a journey I’m on.

On Friday night, two very good friends and I went to stay at a beach resort a couple of hours from here. It started as a casual, girls’ getaway suggestion and turned into something we realized we needed to do because we all needed to talk about some stuff.

“Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’ve seen this quote before, but it keeps coming across my path. I’m more aware of this after the last four months than I ever have been before, and I’m so grateful for being able to sit down with friends and talk about our hard battles, even the parts we haven’t told many – or any – people before.

On our way home, we were looking for a group of shops we’d heard about and wanted to check out. We found them, went in, and at first it was overwhelming. The first was a house – an actual house that hadn’t really been modified – and things were displayed on every surface, every wall, every floor. Normally those sorts of places are way too stimulating for me, but the things were so beautiful so I started to walk around. And then a funny thing happened.

I have two symbols that are meaningful to me – one that goes back to when I was pregnant that I’ve since associated with becoming a mother, and one that has come to represent what I hope to do with what I’ve learned from this PPD journey – and as I walked around these shops I saw these symbols everywhere. They were on jewelry, mugs, stickers, tea towels, bags and more. It was as though I was being told I’m on the right path.

While I was tempted to buy every item in the store, I managed to select a few things that will remind me of the power of that weekend, the power of believing things will get better, and the power of dreaming big.

Filed Under: Better world, Hello, Inspiration · Tagged With: gratitude, hope, living life, perspective, we're not alone

To Celebrate or Not to Celebrate: Reflecting

May 8, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Last week I asked my husband if we could skip Mother’s Day for me this year as I’m not feeling like a very successful mother at the moment. He told me that wasn’t allowed. Another friend pointed out it’s also about them having an opportunity to tell me they love and appreciate me.

Fine.

I understand that, but I still woke up today wishing I could stay in bed. I’m not sure I can read the cards today, but I will want them when this time has passed. So maybe I won’t read them today but I will accept them with love and read them when I’m ready.

I always understood Mother’s Day was hard for some people – those who have lost their mothers, those who have lost children, those for whom, for whatever reason, Mother’s Day is not what greeting card companies would have you believe. I just never expected it to be hard for me this year.

I had lots of things I wanted to say about motherhood today, but this page has remained blank for days. I can’t explain why I want to fast forward through this day – I believe mothers deserve to be celebrated and I know I’m caring for my child in my own way right now, even if it’s not the way I will one day be able to. For many reasons, some of which I don’t understand, the whole day just makes me teary.

So this morning I looked through some of our photos from Connor’s first year, and a few from beyond. These photos say a lot about who my child is, and in them I began to see who I am as his mother in a new way.

Typical photo of a baby right after birth? Yes. Typical Connor? YES. At the time I didn’t know how typical (thank goodness).

We became a family, and in that family my role is mama:

I had no idea how fleeting this would be – both his ability to sleep and this feeling that I was his mother and nothing else in the whole world mattered:

Throughout his babyhood, when he did this…

…I did this, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world:

But as I fell under the shadow of postpartum depression, I experienced some moments that right now live in me only as a tiny light that reflects my son’s amazing spirit; my memory of them is mostly through pictures:

This phase I do remember, and it lights me up. The fun and stimulation of that Jumperoo was a Wonder of the World to him and his unbridled joy was one to me:

I didn’t mourn his first birthday, but rejoiced in how far we’d come:

I did feel a piece of my heart crack when he had his first haircut though:

I have learned that discovering new traditions can be a beautiful thing. (Also, “Do, or do not, there is no try.”)

We’ve had a lot of these moments and sometimes I feel that my experience
as a mother has been defined by them:

But then we make it through another year:

And I remember that this is what matters:

Because regardless of how I feel a lot of the time, this is how he feels:

And that tells me most of what I need to know.

The best conversations with mothers always take place in silence,
when only the heart speaks. — Carrie Latet

Filed Under: Motherhood, Postpartum depression · Tagged With: family, living life, moments

Some Kind of Psycho

May 7, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

One morning in November 2009 I stepped out of the shower, flipped my hair over to wrap a towel around my head and felt a little tweak in my back. By the end of the day I could barely walk.

I did a number of things to try to sort it out:

I saw my RMT for a massage, which made my back spasm so much I had to get my husband to help me back into the house.
I saw a chiropractor for the first time and in addition to an adjustment she gave me pills that contained some weird ingredient that I think was pig pancreas. They did precisely squat for the pain. So much for the pig.
I went to a walk-in clinic and asked for pain killers so I could at least try to cope. I got them and a muscle relaxant, both of which also did precisely squat.

By the end of the day I was desperate, so we went to the ER. We had to wait for four hours to see a doctor, and I honestly thought I was going to die. That’s the most pain I’ve ever been in, c-section included. I finally saw a doctor who gave me super-ER-strength pain meds, which helped enough that I was able to move without crying.

Eventually my back was all right…until June 2010.

I had three weeks’ vacation and we were driving to my sister’s wedding before road tripping for a bit. About 23 minutes into the 12-hour drive I had to ask my husband to pull over so I could stand up for a bit. The super-ER- strength medication, which I had so wisely packed, wasn’t helping. A double dose of Tylenol and Advil did though and I crashed and slept for most of the drive.

Then about two months ago the tweak came back, and I finally noticed the pattern.

November 2009 was the worst-of-the-worst of my postpartum depression before I started to get help. It was an awful time for me, and I almost lost my family over it.

June 2010 was another low period and when I left on vacation I actually thought I might not be back at work after that three weeks.

Two months ago, major PPD panic was starting to set in and when I felt that familiar tweak in my back, I decided that something that was coming back at awfully coincidental times related to my mental health wasn’t going to get through this time so I told it to bugger off. It did, but not for long.

Now I’m at the point in my PPD battle where I’m off work to finally deal with it, and the back pain has returned. It’s just bad enough that it’s hard to bend over. Spitting out toothpaste is a challenge. My usual methods of exercise are not really an option so I’m compromising but feeling the lack of happy endorphins. When Connor asks me to pick him up I can do it by squatting way down and using only my legs and arms, but I wonder if that might be the final straw that breaks the mama’s back.

Now I’m seeing a different (better) chiropractor and trying to both physically and mentally let it go, back pain is really not what I need right now. Especially because, by my math, the timing is totally not a coincidence.

A + B + C + D = psychosomatic back pain. If only Freud weren’t dead.

*Disclaimer for Kim: In linking up with you on this, I’m in no way suggesting that my back issues are as bad as yours or that yours aren’t “real”. You deserve better support for a legitimate injury. I just wanted to rant 😉

Filed Under: Postpartum depression · Tagged With: rants