Confessions of a Postpartum Mommy.

    It's Broadway calling. We used to joke about this when we were starting out in NYC. The phone would ring and we would joke, with 100% wishfulness it were true, that Broadway was calling. Fast forward 10 years and here they were...calling. At the exact same time, our second child, Miles, was calling. The labor pains were hard and fast and once they started there was no slowing down. Miles was about to be born.
     In the delivery room, about an hour before birth, Eric got a call that Andrew Lloyd Webber wanted to see him for a final callback for School of Rock in NYC (which would be opening on Broadway that year) in 2 days and Mr. Webber would only be there for that day.  When it rains it pours and it was pouring...Babies and Broadway. Eric was torn about leaving me, so I booked his flight between contractions with Amex Points and resolve. In this moment, I was excited.  When I saw they were doing School of Rock on Broadway, I was convinced in the depths of me that he would play the lead. It was heading to Broadway for the first time and I just knew it was Eric's for the taking.
     The doctor came in to give the epidural and had to stick the yardstick sized needle in twice because they missed the first time. I realized that the IV was in my right hand and so every time I moved it gently tugged that vein out of the top of my hand.  It was uncomfortable but it was fine. It was fine. It was fine. Nothing major was wrong so how could I complain?
     Miles came into the world happy and healthy, kicking and screaming just like he is supposed to. Eric even got to catch him coming out like a little football and cut the cord. I sang to him and my body shook as I came down off of the drugs they had given me.  Kyle and Megan (Eric's brother and his now wife) brought Sophie to meet Miles and it couldn't have been a sweeter moment. Sophia wore her Big Sister T-Shirt and Miles "gave" her a gift.  It was just as it should be.
    In the recovery room, it was dark, and even with the lights on it seemed dim. I remember crying as I felt overwhelmed by all that was happening at the time. It was okay to feel that way because it was, in fact, a lot. The next day, Eric picked up my mom form the airport and brought her to meet Miles. We all headed home and Eric went to NYC to get that job. I was so glad my mom was there because with a four year old at home and bringing in a new baby, you need an extra set of hands and someone who loves you around.
   Eric got stuck in a snowstorm and couldn't return home right away so 5 days later he was able to get  back to us. Sadly, School of Rock (the original cast) went to the other guy.  It wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time something like that happens. Hey, that's showbiz!  I'm not gonna lie though, this one hurt. (Although, we all know now that he got the 1st replacement job and did eventually play the lead in School of Rock on Broadway, it was tough to see that first one slip away).
   Mastitis (infected breast) took over my chest and my temp sky rocketed to 104.5 soon after Eric got home and my mom left. We were really in the weeds. Thank God for Sophie, because she had been bringing me water from the bathroom sink during the time between when my mom left and Eric arrived. It was scary. Eric thought clearly enough to call my doctor and she immediately called in antibiotics for me.
   What was more clear to Eric than to me was that I was NOT myself. Tears streamed down my face as I walked through the day. I couldn't get out of the funk. If you've ever seen Stranger Things and know "the upside down", that is what life was like. Everything was in it's place, all the people were there and I was going about my day, but it was as if someone turned out the lights. It was dark and had an indescribable sadness that laid heavily on it.  Something was wrong, but it was so hard for me to see it. I had Postpartum Depression and it was robbing me of life.
    Thank God, I knew enough to know this wasn't how it was supposed to be. As if I had an out-of-body experience, I watched Eric take the phone and go to the other room, talking in hushed tones to my doctor. When he came back to hand over the phone so I could talk with her, I thanked my lucky stars that we didn't live in the 50's where I might have been locked up for feeling this way. I was able to be honest with my doctor and myself about how I constantly cried and I hurt in a way that was soul crushing. I felt that no one cared about me and that because I couldn't manage my sadness that maybe it would be easier for everyone if I wasn't there. The thing is...I couldn't find the reason for the sadness. Rationalizing your emptiness is something that prevents people from getting the help they need for depression, but once I realized that this was beyond the scope of rational, I knew I needed to try to get help.
    She prescribed the highest dose of Lexipro and I battled the depression until the anti-depressant got into my system, which took abut 4 wks. I stuck with it because I desperately wanted to enjoy my baby, my child, and our life again.
    Soon, I was able to see glimpses of the old self I knew and my response to life was what I expected. In other words, it didn't take me by surprise.
    Over the next year, I continued to take the anti-depressant and I know that many people stay on them for life once they start them. For me, I knew that the hormones were leveling and I was starting to regulate at about the one year mark. I slowly tapered off of the medicine and began to cope with my normal feelings with my old standbys of tears, wine, and prayer.
    And here is what surfaced for me as true as I came around the bend and saw light at the end of the tunnel...
1.) It's okay to be sad or feel overwhelmed. Sometimes those are the cards and you have to deal with them and all the feelings that go along with it.
2.) Know when to get help. If you can't manage the feelings that are happening and don't recognize yourself, it's time to call your doctor.
3.) It gets better. I know this was a popular campaign in the last year, but it's because it's true.  The dark times sharpen and shine us. Darkness always gives way to light.

Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."

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Everyday Storytelling in Families to Empower the Child.

Everyday Storytelling in Families to Empower the Child.

       Every parent tells the story of their child's birth through their perspective and that story is our evidence of the first impression we make on the world. My  mom's story for me was that she went to the hospital for a stress test and before she left to go home, she was in labor.  It was as if I said, "Welp, as long as your here...let's do this."  Thus me and , as my mother puts it, my cooperative nature were born.  I love this story and everyone's story of their children coming into the world.  It's  no accident that we start out the way we do.  Whether we remember it directly or not, surely the story has been told.  And whether it is the story in all it's gloriously simple reality or a broadened heightened version which serves as food for entertainment...the STORY itself surely shapes us.  Perspective has long been a potter of personality.  Being told we are something or did something has a lasting affect.  As adults, we discover that while it shapes us, it doesn't need to define us.  Interesting and complex, just when we have defined ourselves, along comes a new story, a new happening, a new experience that forces us to redefine ourselves.  

     With my own child, it becomes evident to me that she takes on stories we tell her and embodies traits defined by her past self in these stories.  We tell stories of her "great joke-telling abilities" to people and guess what?  This begets more jokes and increasing confidence as she tells them and tries new ones.  "A dinosaur rides in a car" is a Sophie original of her humorous imagery jokes followed by a slew of "Knock, knock" jokes.  Realizing the power we have in storytelling and the opportunity to encourage our children through positive reinforcement makes me absolutely tingle with gratefulness.  Knowing that power exists, we must use it wisely.  Telling certain stories around our children that we find particularly entertaining might not ALWAYS be the healthiest thing for their ego or growth as an interactive and social being.   It's important to weigh whether your humorous translation of "meltdown on isle 5" to an empathetic fellow mom is worth the laugh or if you child's radar on what's being said is going to make them feel embarrassment or a possible relegation to that behavior in the future because...after all,"This is just who she is or the way she acts."

     One of my daughter's favorite shows is "Super Why" on PBS.  The formula of each show has a character that "has the power to change the story."  She pretends to have this power as she makes up her own stories on the stage of our living room floor.  What a fantastic message to relay to our kids!

     Storytelling keeps traditions alive, families close, encourages positive experiences, provides tools for guidance, and broadens our experience by getting to know others by listening to stories.  So here's to encouraging friends and family to share their stories.  Give your child a culture through the storytelling experience...a culture and background to be proud of and to fill out in a positive way.   

      My family, like many of yours, is known for telling the same stories over and again.  This is a great tool to build character and relationships.   I love hearing stories about my grandfather picking cotton or running Morse code on a Navy ship, my dad training whales or serving as a small-town city councilman, my mom standing up for people and acting out compassion on a daily basis.  These stories weren't always told directly to me ,but were always floating around me.  They most definitely shaped how I viewed these family members.  Our little ones are all ears and very impressionable, so while storytelling might seem like it ends when you close the bedtime fairytale about "Jack and the Beanstalk", think again.  Stories are interwoven into our everyday life and become the fabric which defines us and holds us together.