Let go and Let God

The doubting thoughts of a Mother are probably among the very first instincts she gets.

From the moment the little person enters her world, all she does from the point on focuses around their direct needs. She becomes a mother above all else; their mother.

From the moment Tyler's eyes welled-up and he told me that Max was finally here, my world changed. Nothing but Max mattered. I didn't care about myself or my needs, I didn't care what anyone else was doing or what they wanted. All I cared about was Max. I made people wheel me from my room to the NICU multiple times a day. I stood or sat by his bedside for too long, sometimes until I almost passed out from the pain. I obsessively pumped every 2-3 hours, even through the night. When I wasn't at the hospital, I called the hospital. When I wasn't in the NICU, I called the NICU- yes, sometimes, I even called from the pump room across the hall. I stepped outside the NICU occasionally to take bites of snacks, only sometimes leaving to actually go sit in the cafeteria to eat a meal. I was his mother. I could do nothing else.

So, as the time passed after he died I spent many sleepless nights staring at my ceiling wondering what I had done wrong. Deciding what I could change if I had known better. Thinking about what I would've done differently if I could've know we'd have him for 5 weeks.

I would go down my checklist of "I should haves,"

I should have stopped pumping.

I should have stayed later each night.

I should have gotten there early each morning.

I should have read to him more.

I should have taken more videos.

I should have taken more pictures of his nurses.

I should have let more people come to see him.

I should never have gone home once a week.

I should have gone, even in that blizzard.

I should have talked to other parents more.

I should have talked to him more.

I should have been braver.

I should have been more alert.

And the list would go on...

Eventually all my motherly guilt and doubts started to weigh on me. One afternoon in counseling, my therapist asked me about it. She shook her head as I lamented over all the things I wished I would've done or all the things I felt I should've done. She gave me a piece of paper and told me to write them down. After I had, she told me to cross out my list. Then, beside where I had marked it out, she told me to write, "I did the best I could."

With time, I learned that this is not just a problem a mother has if she loses her baby. Its a problem ALL mothers have. We beat ourselves up with time for not doing things we know now that we didn't know then. We take on all the blame and responsibility when things go wrong, and always defer the honor when things go right. The only solace I found in this was to learn that, even though my baby was gone, I was still just like every other mother. 

So, here's the deal. We all do the best we can. The best we know how. Moms or not. It applies to all of us. And ya know, tough situations, like we were in, makes it SO hard to know what the right thing to do is! We all have to make tough calls in life, and you cannot blame your past self for things you feel now are a mistake. Hindsight is 20/20, but there is nothing we can do about the past. We can learn from it and we can move on. Living in the past and living in guilt and doubt only leads to pain and suffering. We have to let it go. Let go and let God. 

Our Savior is the ONLY being who can understand our pains, our mistakes, our tribulations. He is the one who suffered them for us. He suffered for our sins and our grief. He took care of it! With faith in His holy name, we can let it go. We can give it to Him and be done with it. 

Trust me, I know how hard it is. I know the pain of wishing you could erase parts of your past. Max is just part of my history, and while I certainly don't ever wish to erase him there are plenty of things that I had wished I had done different. I know that it hurts to keep reliving the things we wish we could change. Friends, it is time to let it go. Let go of the past that haunts you. Write it all down, cross it out and say, "I did the best I could!" Shred the paper up. Forgive yourself and move on. I promise the burden can be lifted and you can feel so free.

Let go and let God.

XO.

There's Nothing Weak About Struggling with Mental Illness

I have had depression and anxiety since my adolescence. I battled with an eating disorder as a young adult. Endured infertility for 4 years before finally having a son, and lost him 5 weeks later. I'm 6 months postpartum and my mental health is far from stable. At this point, I don't even know what is my normal, what is grief or what is postpartum depression. It's probably all of the above! All I know is that it is awful. 

And before all you naysayers start listing off how you think I can turn my frown upside down -let me fill you in. I work out 60-90 minutes 4 to 5 days a week. I eat healthy, most of the time (Hey there, National Donut Day). I say my prayers and I read my scriptures. And guess what? I still have a rough time pulling myself out of the abyss to get out of bed every morning. Some days I can do it. Some days I can summon the strength to get up early and get my crap done. But some days, too many days, I don't get out of bed until afternoon because I just cannot fake it anymore. 

And ya know why? It is because I have a disease. A mental disease. And it is just as real as if I had a physical one. I am sick of people thinking that depression is just "feeling sad." Believe me, there is a big difference between feeling sad for a day or two and feeling so hopeless you don't know how to keep living every single day. And, no, anxiety isn't just worrying about random things. No, anxiety is suddenly being overcome by irrational, heart-stopping panic in the middle of the grocery store, having to leave your cart and run home to take a Xanax and crawl in bed. 

This is a disease. I can't exercise my way out of it. I can't pray my way out of it. Do those things help? Of course! My physical and spiritual health are both major parts of my personal treatment. But those alone cannot fix it. I have to see doctors and take medicine, which means a lot of trial and error to find the right medicine. And I'll probably always need medication because there is NO cure for my disease. No one bats an eye at someone who needs to see a doctor or take medicine for physical ailments. But when it comes to mental illness, the general population suddenly thinks you need to buck up and "just be happy." Trust me, if I could "just be happy" I would!

If you haven't seen it, yet, go read Kristen Bell's essay on her struggle with depression. She's so awesome. I love her! Anyway, she wrote this powerful article about her personal experience and opened up conversation about mental illness all over the internet. She said, 

"Mental health check-ins should be as routine as going to the doctor or the dentist. After all, I’ll see the doctor if I have the sniffles. If you tell a friend that you are sick, his first response is likely, 'You should get that checked out by a doctor.' Yet if you tell a friend you’re feeling depressed, he will be scared or reluctant to give you that same advice. You know what? I’m over it."

I'm over it, too, Kristen! Let's encourage each other. Let's be there for each other. Let's stop making others feel weak for their struggles. Let's stop tearing each other down and start building each other up. Let's stop judging each other and, for that matter, stop judging ourselves. Let's stop apologizing for who we are!

"Here’s the thing: For me, depression is not sadness. It’s not having a bad day and needing a hug. It gave me a complete and utter sense of isolation and loneliness. Its debilitation was all-consuming, and it shut down my mental circuit board. I felt worthless, like I had nothing to offer, like I was a failure. Now, after seeking help, I can see that those thoughts, of course, couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s important for me to be candid about this so people in a similar situation can realize that they are not worthless and that they do have something to offer... It’s a knee-jerk reaction to judge people when they’re vulnerable. But there’s nothing weak about struggling with mental illness." 

 The older I get, the less I begin to care about telling people about my problems. I'm starting to feel less apologetic about it. It is still really embarrassing if I have a panic attack in front of anyone besides Tyler- its just so awkward when your crying and hyperventilating and you can't say why. But, really, would you blame a diabetic for having to take an insulin shot when they need it? No. So, why is it so uncomfortable for me to say, "I have to go home and take a Xanax." It shouldn't be embarrassing. I'm sick. I need medicine. Plain and simple.

I'm tired of being embarrassed of who I am and feeling less because of my mental illness. Aren't you tired of it? Maybe if we all get on board and start advocating we can erase the stigma. Love each other, no matter what. Love yourself, no matter what. If someone you know if struggling with a mental illness, encourage them to seek help. If you have a mental illness, do not be ashamed! While depression can make you feel so hopeless, there really is hope out there. Seek help. Find a good psychiatrist, talk with a counselor, discover a higher power. Use all means possible to get help. There is no shame in needing help.

XO.