Archives for June 2011

Naked On the Side of the Road: A Story of Postpartum Psychosis

Earlier this year I sat down at my computer and read a story that left me in awe. It’s stuck with me ever since.

On a late Friday afternoon in October 2008, I was standing stark naked on the side of a DC highway, nearly facing death because of a mental illness I didn’t know I had.

It left me in awe because it was shocking. I had never actually heard the term “postpartum psychosis” even after news stories of mothers killing their children.

The delusions worsened.  I believed that my husband was the devil and that I was God.  I thought he was trying to trick me.  While talking with him on the phone, I answered his questions with questions, to avoid giving away where I was on the highway.  When helicopters flew overhead, I was convinced the world was going to end and that presidential nominees Barack Obama and John McCain were headed to DC to join forces and save the world.  I thought of a few ways I could help save the world: My husband and I could kill each other.  Or we could kill our children.  Or my parents.  Or I could get baptized by a friend.

But it also left me in awe because it was so brave. The above excerpts are just part of the story Heather Coleman shared on Postpartum Progress, and at the time I told her it was the bravest story I have ever read. She shared that experience to help others and so others could understand more about postpartum psychosis. She also told her story at Ignite DC. I encourage you to read the whole story or watch the video (or both) – I guarantee it will do something to change your perspective on life.

Heather is now trying to find the people who helped her that day so she can say thank you. Can you imagine what could have happened? I would want to say thank you as well, and I hope she’s successful in doing that.

As part of her effort, she has started a Facebook page to try to find those people. If you think you can help her, click that “like” button, would you? I did, and when her updates appear in my Facebook feed it’s another dose of inspiration from someone who went through something horrible and is using that experience to make the world a better place.

Things the Books Don’t Tell You

Just like most mamas-to-be, I had the pregnancy books. I read them. A lot. I also had the parenting books but I didn’t read those as much. I flipped through the sections on early milestones and advice on breastfeeding and how to stop being a maniac and checking 65 times a night to see if your baby is still breathing (kidding – sadly, none of the books I read offered advice on that).

I know there are books out there on toddlers – I probably even have some that address this stage, but I guarantee they don’t include stuff like this:

  1. One day your toddler will eat something normal for breakfast, like eggs or yogurt. The next day he will empty the whole cupboard looking for just the right thing, rejecting many options in the process, and then choose plain coarse bread crumbs. The day after he will insist on eating a tortilla. Just the tortilla – nothing in it or on it.
  2. Telling parents-to-be “what to expect” should really include the fact that offering the wrong bowl or spoon can lead to an epic meltdown.
  3. Kids like to lick their mother’s face. At least mine does. (Why is this?!)
  4. A child who is always hot and generally opts for no pants will sometimes insist on wearing fleece pants. In the summer.
  5. Sleep books should all include this line: “Some kids just don’t sleep much. If you get one of those, sorry about that, but you should probably just accept it.” (This might have prevented Go the F*ck to Sleep from becoming a bestseller, but that book is too late for me anyway.) This one little line might, just possibly, have saved my sanity.
  6. Toddlers can form attachments to weird things. Like a dog crate that’s been in storage and then brought out to be sold, the idea of which prompts floods of tears.
  7. This same toddler might reject anything and everything you suggest that might offer comfort – including things that are much softer and generally more comfortable than a dog crate – and insist on rubbing his mother’s wrist all.the.time. (Speaking of my sanity…)
  8. Sometimes it’s not the mother who will feel sentimental about wee baby clothes when putting them away, but the toddler who insists we can’t possibly pack these things up.
  9. A kid who hates getting his hands dirty while eating – and will whine as if his hands are crawling with spiders until you wipe them off – will then jump down from the table and immediately make a gigantic mess somewhere else. With his hands.
  10. In some cases, small boys will go from being totally fascinated by bugs to completely freaking out when there’s a fly in the house. And then he will go outside and find a caterpillar and make it a home with leaves and insist that it needs to live inside.

Come to think of it, all of this could be summed up in one line (which would make for much shorter books): Toddlers are weird- just go with it.

With a good pair of boots you can do pretty much anything.

Hello, Inspiration – Father’s Day

I haven’t posted in a couple of days. Confession: I feel like I’m slipping. A rough few days and I feel like the swirl is coming back, so I’m just trying to hold it off.

I’m going to save my planned inspiration post until I can feel it again and express it properly. In the meantime, some thoughts on Father’s Day.

I know some people don’t have dads – my parents have both lost theirs. I know some dads aren’t perfect. I know some moms out there are doing it on their own for one reason or another.

It sounds silly, but this blogospheric community has made me really realize how hard Father’s Day can be for some people.

I’m blessed in the dad department – both with my own dad and the wonderful dad my husband is.

This might seem like a downer, but I’m actually inspired by those of you who don’t or can’t rejoice in Father’s Day. You’ve shared stories of bad relationships with your fathers. You’ve commented that you don’t have a relationship with your father at all.

Some of you have lost your fathers. Some fathers have lost their children.

Some of you have amazing and wonderful dads but just don’t get to see them as often as you’d like.

Whatever your situation, your strength and honesty inspire me.

I feel lucky to know others who do whatever you need to do on Father’s Day – celebrate it, ignore it, rail against it, or take the time to remember your dad and hold him in your heart.

So to all of you who have lived with the hard stuff, and to all the fathers and father figures out there who spread love and joy and caring, I wish you a Happy Father’s Day, whatever that looks like to you.

fathers-day-tags

Why I Run

At first all I hear is silence. Then birdsong. The crunch of my feet on gravel. The rhythmic sound of my breath.

I am running.

***

I started in running in January 2005. I hated going to the gym, so I figured I’d try something with a goal in mind and registered for a 10k clinic.

At first one minute of running made me feel like I was going to DIE.

I went to the run clinic every Wednesday night and dutifully did my solo runs two other days a week. I progressed, increasing intervals until I got to the point where I thought I might actually be able to do it.

And I did. That year at the end of April I ran my first 10K.

But I didn’t stop running.

Why do I run?

I run because it’s hard. Every run, good or bad, feels like an accomplishment.

I run because it gets me outside into the fresh air.

I run because a sunlit trail often seems like the place on Earth to be.

I run because when it rains everything feels refreshed, even me.

I run because, as I wrote before, it’s a battle between mind and body and it’s good for both.

I run because I have friends who run and I run with them.

I run because I’ve made new friends through running.

I run because often when running I’m also writing – drafting things in my head and thinking about the right turn of phrase as my feet pound the path.

I run because the trails are there.

Because I run, I get alone time I might not otherwise take time for.

Because I run, I’ve seen my expression reflected on other runners’ faces – a grimace signalling determination through pain.

Because I run, I also know what an expression of joy looks like on the face of someone out in the fresh air and sunshine doing something that’s good for them.

Because I run I see more dragonflies.

Because I run, I get to see my dog in his happy place, skipping along, sniffing, falling behind, catching up, surging ahead, pushing me farther.

Because I run I have learned to push myself – to not quit when I want to because I remember my dad’s advice and I’ve learned it’s true: “If you stop when it’s hard you never improve.”

Because I run I know what it’s like to cross the finish line of a half-marathon and receive a medal for finishing something I once thought I would never, ever be able to do.

***

I see sparks of sunlight glinting off the lake. Shadows bounce and twirl, reflecting the dance of the trees above them.

Today I ran.

Because I am a runner.

Yes, my face always gets this red when I run.

Fledgling Friday – June 17 edition

I think summer is finally here, and you know what that means? Vacation. Yep, Fledgling Fridays is going to take a bit of a vacation for a while. I love finding new people to connect with and enjoy all your posts, but I don’t have as much time as I’d like to fit this in – I want to read them all and promote them all and every week just goes by so fast I don’t get to everything.

So new bloggers, please link up one more time. And don’t worry – we can still hang out over the summer.