Monday, July 23, 2012

PPD: I like where I'm headed

An entry from my journal, while going through postpartum depression:

written on march 6, 2011:

It's been too long since I've written last and it frustrates me that I haven't had time. I want to be able to write down all my thoughts everyday, but I haven't gotten a chance. Between Emmalyn and all the [marriage] celebration commotion, I've had a lot going on. Oh, and let's not forget trying to find a house to rent. This would be a lot for anyone to handle, but throw in Postpartum Depression--sheesh!

I was in such a funk today. I'm just so frustrated with planning the celebration. It's in two weeks! I really just want to cry about it, but my medicine is preventing me from doing so. (I guess it's doing it's job then, huh?!) I want to be able to enjoy and cherish this moment in my life, especially since my grandma is coming down and has yet to meet Emmalyn. I don't want to let everything else get to me.

I'm super appreciative of my mom, who has gone above and beyond. On top of working full-time, she's helping me with Emmy and the party plans. I am so grateful for her. A part of me wants to freeze time and soak up all the moments--all the way to its marrow; but the other part of me can't wait until it's all over and I can move on with life.

Today was sort of a waste of a day. I felt sorry for myself all day and I allowed myself to do so. I knew I shouldn't, but I desperately wanted someone to hold me and tell me it was all going to work out and be all right. I wanted someone to validate my feelings. But that didn't happen--at least not at that particular moment. I kept waiting for someone to hold me, and when no one did... I just fell more into a funk.

On the bright side, Emmy keeps me going. And I appreciate that. Once Em woke up from her morning nap (ehem... 1pm), I finally rolled out of bed. I fed Emmy, ate lunch, and then went for a drive through a prospective rental neighborhood. When I cam back home my mom and I went up to the mall. After the funky day I had, I was craving a mile-run.

I miss B so much, but I don't regret what has happened. I'm a much different person--and while I'm still recovering, I like where I'm headed.


To read more about my postpartum depression experience, click here.


Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Just Breathe.

Count to ten, Katie. Breathe. Repeat.

This little ritual pretty much sums up my entire day. A certain short person with dark blonde wisps of curls and big brown eyes has been testing my patience all day. ALL. DAY. Today consisted of lots of mini-chats with The Big Man upstairs, begging asking to refill my pot of patience. 

Up and down my legs have gone, numerous times over--jumping up to stop a testy toddler from throwing picture frames across the floor. Stern looks followed by "Stop. That hurts Mommy!" was the motto of the day, due to that certain short person slapping a decreasingly patient momma across the face.


Count to ten, Katie. Breathe. Repeat.

I stuck to my guns when I refused to be a short-order chef at lunch. I'll be sure to let you know when "NOOO!! PIIIIZZZZZAAAAAA!!" stops ringing in my ears. Apparently quesadillas were not good enough today and throwing food on the floor was the next best thing. That doesn't fly with this momma.

A much needed nap on both ends helped a little, and don't get me wrong--between the excessive frustrating moments, there were bursts of giggles and kisses--all appreciated, of course. But by 6pm, yoga was calling--no make that--screaming my name: "Katie, you need me! Come to me!" Fortunately for me, a very loving grandpa (thanks, Dad!) was willing to take care of Little Miss while I got my yoga on.

How humbling it was. I feel re-centered and aligned.

I'm ready for a new day.




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