This I Believe – Guest Post By Yael Saar

I am absolutely, joyfully, dancing-ly happy to have Yael here today sharing this amazing post. She added this as a page on her blog, PPD to Joy, not long ago and I just ate it up. I’m excited to share it here today because I think you’ll be able to relate.

This post is about postpartum depression, and about motherhood. But it’s also about relationships and hard days and things that suck. So it doesn’t matter if you’re not a mom or haven’t suffered through PPD – I still think this will speak to you. My suggestion: find a quiet spot, wherever and however you can, and read this. Really read it. Allow it to sink into your brain. I bet your breathing will be deeper and your shoulders lower when you finish.

***

Love is a renewable resource, a self-fulfilling prophecy.
The more you love, the more you love.

This can be hard to feel, and even harder to believe.
Love is magic.
It works regardless of whether you can feel it.
Regardless of whether you believe in it or not.

Being kind is underrated.
Being right is overrated.
When in doubt, choose kindness.
Especially to yourself.

(Go slow and you’ll get there faster. Baby steps will take you farthest.)

About Motherhood

Motherhood is the hardest job on the planet.
Even if you’ve climbed Mt. Everest, you know kids can challenge you more than the tallest peaks.
Miraculously, unbelievably, (thankfully) this is, somehow, all worth it.
But why does this have to be so hard?

My kids are the best kids ever. And so are yours.
The fact that they can drive us crazy is beside the point.

Kids, especially toddlers, are physicists and social scientists.
They test the limits of gravity, safety, and patience.
They yank our chains for a living.
This ain’t easy on the mom.

Yelling at children is unavoidable.
Striving to yell less is important, learning grump-management is helpful, but let’s not kid ourselves, raising our voices at our loved ones is not about to go extinct.
Giving ourselves permission to yell when we are at the end of our rope just might keep yelling from turning into screaming.

Hugs are more important than food.
If we hug our kids more often than we yell at them, all of us will turn out all right.

(Baby steps will take you farthest.)

About Postpartum Mood Disorders

You are not broken.
You are not damaged.
You are struggling.
Every struggle is an opportunity for growth.

You don’t have to like this to survive this.
You don’t have to like this to learn and grow from this.
This sucks, so of course you don’t like this.
You have a right to be angry. How could you not be?
You have a right to be scared.

When you allow your anger and fear to be heard, they cannot rule you.
Interacting with them gives you power in situations you don’t have power over. Running away from your emotions means you can never rest.

If you fight your anger tooth and nail, it will turn into rage and guilt.
If you fear your fear, it will turn into anxiety and panic.
Fighting your emotions only feeds your demons.

Healing cannot happen in a war zone.
Permission-Based Healing is far more effective.

You are not lazy.
You are exhausted.
So is your partner.

Until you get enough sleep, try to respect your capacity, or lack thereof.
Accepting that being grumpy is unavoidable helps.
It is possible to be grumpy without being mean.
Yes, this is hard.

Trust turns caves into tunnels.
When you can’t find the light at the end of your tunnel, dare to ask someone to light a candle and hold your hand.

Asking for help is hard. Very hard. And scary.
And it is the first step to recovery.
If you only learn one thing from having to deal with this darn mood disorder, let it be how to ask for help effectively.
No, you will not be good at this right away. And that’s OK.

(Baby steps will take you farthest.)

About the Role of Community in Recovery:

Community is my favorite word.
I wouldn’t be alive without my family and my community.

Every single person has skeletons in their closet.
Well, these things only look like skeletons, because it’s so dark in there.
When we dare to bring them out into the light, we discover that the skeletons are simply our very human, very scared selves.
Inviting our scared selves out to play can be petrifying.
Sharing our scary stories with others creates community while connecting all of us on the deepest level.
In my experience such trust is always rewarded handsomely.

This is how we trust in the healing power of community.
When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and human, we allow others to do the same. And we all get stronger together.

Words build community.
When fighting doesn’t bring peace, writing does.
I believe every one of us is capable of writing for healing.
Not ready to write yet?
Read. Speak. Cry. Sing…

(Baby steps will take you farthest.)

***

See? Is that not one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever read? In one post she manages to address all kinds of things that have lurked in the shadows for me.

One of the links above, to Yael’s Permission-Based Healing page, is another new resource on her site. I’ve talked to a lot of people about accepting whatever threatens to overwhelm you – anxiety, rage, grief, whatever it is – and letting it in. Most say I can’t. I’m scared to. I’m afraid if I do I will sink. I know. I was too. I did too. But this approach is the thing that finally allowed me to get better, and one of the people I have to thank for that is Yael. She knows, because she’s been there too. Have a look at that page and let Yael know what you think. (But be gentle with her, she asks – it’s a subject close to her heart.)

Yael is also the one behind the PPD SpeakEasy support calls. When I first heard about these I told Yael (before I really knew her) that I couldn’t really imagine talking to strangers on the phone about my struggle with PPD. I got over it and joined in (I’ve even hosted) and in an upcoming post I’ll tell you about the last call, because it really was a very cool experience. (And if you have a site where you share PPD resources, consider posting Yael’s badge? Pretty please?)

Thank you, Yael, for all you do for our community. We love you for it.

xo


On the Move: Being a Theta Mom

Yes, I’m elsewhere again today, trying on a different hat. Yesterday I was scary, which was really fun, and I appreciate all the kudos for writing honestly about how hard it is to have a newborn.

If you’ve been around here before, you’ll know I’m all about telling it like it is.

If you’re new here, well, I’ll just send you right to the really hard stuff as an example of just how honest I’m willing to be. (And also, hi! Welcome.)

Yes, being a mom is great. But sometimes it also sucks. I figure we should be able to talk about that.

Heather created her site to be about the real deal when it comes to talking about motherhood, and my reaction when I first found her was, “Sign me up!”

Today I’m really happy to be guest posting over there about – what else? – blogging and the benefits of brutal honesty.

Come and visit!

The Me I Am Today

Today I start back at work after a 4 1/2 month leave of absence. People keep asking me how I feel about this.

“Anxious,” was my answer two weeks ago.

Last week, after coming home from San Diego and still on my BlogHer ’11 high, my answer was a straightforward “ambivalent.”

Now I am neither.

I met with my boss last week and got caught up on things. A few things have changed but even I’m amazed at how much hasn’t.

The problem is, my whole world has changed. I don’t feel at all like the same person I was when I left and if you’ve been reading this blog at all since April you’ll understand why.

So how do I feel about going back to work tomorrow? I feel…lots of things.

I feel ready to get back to “normal” though normal to me is different than it was before.

I feel grateful I’ve had all this extra time with my son and therefore a little sad that I’m losing that.

I feel… Well, honestly, I feel that my job is less central to who I am now.

I work in communications, which is a field I love. I used to come home and spend the evening on Twitter (my other account), chatting to people and following links and devouring information about the latest communications-everything.

I haven’t done that for months, since well before I went on leave.Change Priorities

My last tweet on that account was 59 days ago. Each of the mere handful of tweets I’ve posted in the last few months were either in reply to someone, directed at people I know (family or co-workers), or because my team won an award and, hey, awards must be celebrated. Oh, and one that said, “Yes, I am MIA from Twitter. No, I’m not dead.” (To which I got several “whew” and “I wondered where you were!” responses. Yeah, I used to be fairly active.)

A year ago I couldn’t imagine not throwing my whole self into my job. I loved it, so it wasn’t a chore. But in some ways I think I did it because I felt I needed to. I wanted to keep up with what was happening. I wanted to feel like I was a legitimate member of the communications community. I also had grand ambitions and when I want something I tend to pursue it relentlessly (see also: this whole blogging thing).

So I’m going back to work a different person and a different professional. My days will be spent continuing to work hard at a job that affords me lots of opportunity to learn and be creative. But my nights will be spent here, because that’s the me I want to be.

Every MONDAY join us…
Write, post, link-up, share your story and your voice.
Be part of carrying the weight of confidence, empowerment and share our mission to empower, inspire, and remind women, parents and children that the time has come to celebrate ourselves!

How you have lived the Be Enough Me feeling this week?

***

On another note: While I’m away today, I’m also guest posting for Zoie at TouchstoneZ. In response to her request to write about recovery, I’ve shared a bit more about my experience with postpartum rage and how I had to let it in before I could let it out. Come and visit me there, won’t you?

I Held Her Hand

I’ve only met her a handful of times, but she is someone I know.

I hadn’t seen her in over two years, but I remember her face from when we were both new mothers.

We met at a baby group and chatted a few times. We were Facebook friends for a while, until I trimmed my friends list when I was going through my own struggle and felt vulnerable.

Other friends had kept in touch and told me the news.

She has Stage 3 breast cancer.

She is a single mom.

My son is one day older than her daughter.

I friended her again and asked what I could do to help.

Today I drove her to her appointment with the surgeon for a follow-up and her pathology results. I asked her how she was doing and listened as she told me about things no one should have to deal with all at the same time, especially a beautiful person who is a single parent to a little girl.

I can’t fix this one. I can’t say “I know” because I don’t. I can’t say “I’ve been there and you are not the only one who feels that way and I know it will be all right” because I haven’t and I don’t.

All I can do is something she couldn’t do herself.

I took her to her appointment.

I went into the room with her when the doctor told her what they’d discovered.

I held her hand.

***

She’s going into this battle armed with knowledge and strength, and I do have faith that she will be all right, but anything you’ve got is warmly welcomed – prayers, good thoughts, cancer-killing vibes, whatever. Send it out to her, will you?

Things I Like About Me

The lists are appearing everywhere – in one friend’s blog, then another, then another. “Things I Like About Me.”

It’s a link-up hosted by Elena at Ciao Mom, who I first met when I told my Reclaiming Me story.

I think this is a great idea. We need to acknowledge the good things about ourselves – the things we like, and that make us who we are. And doing it out loud is even better.

I’ll admit when I first saw this I thought it would be a pretty easy list for me to make. Despite a blog full of evidence to the contrary, I’m okay with who I am (and here’s where I give credit to my parents). I have my faults and things I would change, just like everyone does, and I’m not perfect 😉 but I do generally like me.

So I’ve been thinking for a couple of days about what I would include on this list. Some things come easily to mind, but I want to include the things that have made my particular struggle so hard and that I’ve learned to embrace about myself. So with that introduction here is my list of things I like about me:

  1.  Damn, this is harder than I thought. That’s what I get for being cocky.

Take 2:

  1. I like that I’ve found the strength to be open about my experience with postpartum depression. That has been really empowering.
  2. I like that even though this whole journey has been a gigantic pile of crap, to put it mildly, I am finding meaning and purpose in it.
  3. I like that I have big dreams and I’m brave enough and confident enough to pursue them, even if that’s not the usual path and what I “should” do.
  4. I like that in my professional career I have never taken a job and just done what’s expected. I’ve always aimed to do more and do better and I think it’s something that’s just in me – I never realized it until I looked back on years of this pattern.
  5. I like my writing style. After 7 months of an onslaught of other voices in the blog world, I have stayed true to who I am and to my own voice. And I kept writing, even when some of the stuff was so personal I worried what people would think when they read it.
  6. I like that I’m a fatalist – I believe what’s meant to be will be. But I don’t just accept what happens (see: last 3 years of denial and stubbornness), I look for meaning in things because I believe it’s there and my life will be better if I keep learning.
  7. I like that I don’t hold grudges.
  8. I like that I am really, really good at being diplomatic when it’s necessary. Seriously, I rock at this.
  9. I like my eyes.
  10. I like that I can get totally into something and let it inspire me (see: horrible vlog about my obsession with birds).
  11. I like that one of the things I spend a lot of time thinking about is how to support others. I don’t always know how, and sometimes I can’t do it, but it’s hugely important to me. If I can find a way to do that and make money, I’ll be set and happy for life.
  12. I like that I’ve kept running, even though it was brutally hard in the beginning and I thought I was going to die when I ran my first 10k. And two months after I had a really bad training stint where I could have given up I decided not to and instead trained for (and ran) a half marathon. And then two more back to back.
  13. I like that in many circles I’m known for my love of chocolate.
  14. I like that I can say “I love you” to people I’ve never met and mean it.