Three years ago I gave birth to my second beautiful son. I was so looking forward to his arrival, I day dreamed about having him, giving Brock a brother, and completing our family.
After giving birth to Brock I dealt with the baby blues, but nothing major, life was great. Being a mommy was great, I loved every minute of it.
Having Jude rocked my world in every way. About a week after he was born I started feeling very overwhelmed. Everything was big to me, nothing was small or easy. I started to sink into myself and cut everyone, including my husband out. If you know me, you know Jude was a really, really hard baby. The word hard doesn't even come close to describing his first 18 months-2 years of life. The more he'd cry the darker I became. I saw life in tunnel vision, my whole world was closing in on me. I couldn't sleep because I was so anxious, my muscles twitched every time I would lay down to rest. I dreaded my child waking up in the mornings. The depression and anxiety consumed me. I wanted to pack up Brock and run away. I went as far as to get a bag out a handful of times. I could not handle my new reality, everything was collapsing around me, I couldn't breathe I was so overwhelmed.
Then came the time I thought I had reached the end of my rope. For several months I seriously considered ending it all, I had it all planned out. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of someone having to discover my body. I was sane enough to know that would destroy my husband or boys. Thank God I had that tiny sliver of sanity left, without it I am sure I would no longer be here.
I would lay in bed and cry every night. I heard the saying all the time, "God won't give you anything you can't handle." The saying pissed me off. Surely God was wrong, I was not strong enough, I could not physically crawl out of the dark despair I was in on my own. I was a shell of the person I once knew, I would look in the mirror trying to recognize myself.
I got on medication and I became determined to get better, and I became to determined to make something of this. It could not have all been for nothing. There had to be a reason I went through 18 months of extreme darkness. As the fog began to clear I began talking about my struggles and I found a 50/50 mix of moms astonished I'd say anything negative about motherhood, and moms who were so thankful someone was being honest about the struggles. It became clear to me then to not glorify motherhood, but to tell the nitty gritty details from the struggles to the joys. Motherhood isn't bad for everyone, but for some, it is.
Looking back on that time in my life is still very painful for me. I missed a lot. There are gaps in my boys lives I simply do not remember, I have blocked out so many things. What remains fresh for me though, is how fragile a new mom can be. How one judgmental remark can make a mom feel like she is worthless and failing at being a mom. How being a mom is NOT easy, it is rewarding, but sometimes the reward is on the horizon, not right in front of us. I feel like my life's purpose is to not only be a wife and mom, but to be a voice for the moms too afraid to speak. To be an ear to the moms that are willing to share their struggles, and to be a voice of strength as someone who knows there is light at the end of the tunnel. To tell moms it won't be hard forever, there will come a time that you can laugh again, smile again, and enjoy the simple things in life again. To tell moms it won't always be so overwhelming, you won't always feel swallowed whole by this new life. That it will, without question, get better, and they without question are not alone in what they are going through.