Depression

"We must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, that would diminish our usefulness to others."   -Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition

Last night I attended an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting as part of my coursework for group therapy.  I sat quietly in the back as members read from the AA book and shared their experiences with addiction and recovery.  "We must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, that would diminish our usefulness to others," was read aloud and instantly I knew why God had orchestrated my being there.  This sentence was what I needed to hear.  This one sentence is what God had been pounding into my head for months.

I was only recently diagnosed with depression, though looking back over my like I can very clearly pinpoint several times I was in the midst of a depressive state.  I never saw a counselor as a child and when I was in college I began dating and eventually marrying someone who was unsupportive of the counseling process.  I was 25 the first time I sought help in this area and did so again over the next few years with divorce, remarriage and the birth of my son.  

About a year ago I went to see a counselor.  I was 10 pounds below my pre-pregnancy weight and extremely anxious.  I was working full time, a new mommy, newly wed and living with my in-laws.  It was the perfect storm of catastrophe for this introvert.  My head constantly throbbed and I knew I was going to have aneurism or a stroke.  Honestly, I hoped I would because I wanted to die.  I envisioned myself driving off an overpass on the way home nearly everyday.  

I had longed to be a mommy for ten years and two marriages.  I felt called to mother children.  I read pregnancy websites, scouted Babies R Us and volunteered in the church nursery.  My heart's deepest desire was to be a mommy.  God heard my petition and granted me grace.  I was a mommy.  I had a beautiful baby boy.  

Long ago I decided that I was going to work on my master's degree when I had my children.  I had been planning this since the first month of my teaching career and had started this process while still married to my ex-husband.  When my son was six months old I was living with my current in-laws when my husband asked if I would teach one more year to help financially.  In my heart I knew this was a bad idea, but I agreed.

I was away from my baby for 10 hours a day and when I was home all my time with him was shared.  The only time I had alone with my baby was breast feeding him late at night.  Because of this I would hold him late into the evening and he became so accustomed he would not sleep unless he was held.  On top of that, my mother-in-law offered suggestions or advice about everything; even the littlest, most insignificant details of daily life.  Anytime I put Luke down for a second, he was scooped up by someone else.  I felt insignificant in my newborn's life.  I voiced my concerns to my husband who sided with his parents with the rationale that he and I would not be living with them forever and therefore they should get to spend as much time with Luke as they wanted.  Holy crap!  I felt so unimportant.

Clearly I felt as if it was me against them, so I sought help from a counselor.  Since I had moved to a new area since my previous counseling sessions, I sought help from a different counselor.  During the first session I vented about the situation with the counselor sharing about her experiences with her in-laws.  During the next session the counselor did the same thing.  I was not receiving any help; all I was getting was someone who was feeding into the drama.  I did not need that.  I needed someone to help me see the positives in my life, someone to see how I was struggling in relating to my husband, someone to see that I did not hate my in-laws, all I wanted was some time alone with my baby.  I stopped seeing her after two sessions.

I then went to a medical doctor and had blood work done.  There was nothing out of the ordinary.  So why would someone who gained 50 pounds during pregnancy have lost 60?  I was not overweight beforehand.  The explanation was given that I was just one of the lucky women who lost more weight than they gained during pregnancy.

A few months later, my husband reluctantly moved with me to the area of my youth.  Once here I was a stay at home mommy and attending graduate school.  It was exactly what I wanted, but I was still struggling.  There were days when I would not get dressed or shower.  There were days when I would burst into tears over minor things.  There were days when I would hear my mother-in-law's voice offering outdated advice when Luke was fussy.  I read every self help book and website, but when suicidal ideation crept back into my thoughts it was time for serious help.  

During my first visit with my new counselor it was suggested that I see a doctor for medication.  The doctor agreed and I given a prescription for antidepressants and anxiety pills.  I am now on the road to recovery, but I am still plagued with guilt, remorse for time lost and morbid reflection of what-ifs.  That is why attending the AA meeting was such a blessing.  I now have words to explain what has been causing my depression.    

"We must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, that would diminish our usefulness to others."   -Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition

Manna

"Our fathers ate the manna in the desert; as it is written, "He gave them bread for heaven to eat."  -John 16:31

As the Israelites escaped Egypt, God provided manna each morning to sustain them.  It appeared each day with the morning dew and was gathered and formed into cakes.  The Israelites had to faithfully depend on God to provide for their needs.

I have suffered from anxiety since Luke's birth.  I worry about the typical first time parent stuff, but to a degree that it interferes with every day life. I know where this anxiety comes from; his pregnancy and delivery.

I longed to be a mother for ten years and two marriages before God blessed me with a pregnancy.  I had attended so many baby showers that I lost count.  The movie 27 Dresses could have been adapted to my life as 27 Baby Showers.  I had read books, websites and browsed Motherhood Maternity while knowing I was not pregnant.  I had a theme for a nursery and several items already purchased.

God had given me a do-over in life and I wanted my do-over to be perfect.  Knowing that I emotionally could not handle waiting to have children, my new husband I quickly became expectant parents.  I read all the new books and became up to date with all new items, warnings and trends.

During my third trimester of pregnancy my son settled to one side of my stomach and became almost immobile.  This is not uncommon according to popular literature and my doctor.  My intuition kept telling me something was wrong.  My stomach was completely lopsided and the only way I new Baby Luke was okay was that he often had the hiccups.

I wanted to have a natural birth.  I am afraid of needles and have had fainting spells at the thought of giving blood.  During my 8 month check-up we learned that Luke was breech and not in position.  His ultrasound looked normal and there were no signs of stress.  Two weeks later, my doctor said he could feel Luke which I took as a sign that Luke was getting ready to be born, even though I did not think that Luke had moved since the last appointment.  We scheduled my next appointment for a week later.

On February 14, 2011, after a Valentine's Day party and telling my coworker to discuss a project with my long-term sub "in case I don't make it in tomorrow," I got in my car to drive home.  On the way home I heard a snap and my water broke.  My first thought was that I had wet my pants since I was 38 weeks along.

Josh and I arrived at the hospital at 5:15 p.m.  The nurses began assessing us and quickly determined that Luke was in fact still breech and on my right side in my ribcage.  Since my water had broken and Luke was not even close to being in position for birth it was determined that a c-section was the best course of action.  Josh and I did not argue about this since we have thanked God every morning for a healthy pregnancy and prayed for a successful birth.  At 5:30 the nurses began prepping me for surgery and at 7:02 p.m. Luke was born.  His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck and had he moved he would have hung himself.  This is why he had waited so patiently in the same position for three months.  I knew something was wrong.  I knew it.

The following day Luke was having difficulty eating and had dry diapers.  I had not labored with him so he had fluid in his lungs which caused troubled breathing.  I continually asked my nurse for assistance with breast feeding and to check his breathing.  I was assured that these things would clear up within day and all would be fine.  When Luke was 36 hours old he was admitted to NICU due to breathing difficulties and low blood sugar.  I knew it.  I knew something was wrong and no one was listening to me.

Luke had a stiff neck and preferred to sleep and eat on one side.  This is common among newborns.  I could feel stiffness and knots on one side of his neck.  I asked his pediatrician about this and was again assured that all was well.  Luke later developed several ear infections that antibiotics were unable to help.  This led me to believe that he was not the victim of several ear infections, but something else.  When Luke was 18 months old I began taking him to a chiropractor.  Luke needed to be realigned as his neck was tight and knotted going back to his position in the womb.  After one adjustment Luke was able to turn his head from side to side, open his mouth wide and sleep on both sides of his head.  Again, I knew something was wrong.

My anxiety not only makes me hyper-focused on Luke's health, but about providing for him and hopefully a sibling one day.  Luke would very much like to have a sibling and asks for one when we see a new baby.  I have stored every item of Luke's in carefully labeled bins.  I have given away and sold nothing thinking it was only practical that if, one day God blessed us with another perfect child everything would be set.  There would be no financial worries about clothing, shoes, or other necessities, just some new diapers and a hospital bill.

Then I realized that hanging on to Luke's things were an attempt to control my anxiety.  Our road with Luke has not been as rocky as many others.  Luke was never in danger for his life.  We did not have to mourn the loss of a child.  We have been more than provided for.  God has given us manna to sustain our every need so why then do I need to hang on to all of Luke's baby items?

Both Josh and I feel that God will be faithful in giving us another child.  Both Josh and I feel that we are not called to be parents again just yet and we are both completely content with that.  As a way of acknowledging how God provided for Luke's every need, we will be selling and giving away several of Luke's things that he has outgrown with complete confidence that when God decides to add to our family, he will once again give us manna.

The Green Bike

How I acquired the green and its significance in my life is an interesting story.  When I moved to Boise in 2004 I desperately wanted a bicycle to ride on the Greenbelt and I wanted a one that fit my personality; feminine, practical, easygoing and a little retro.  I had visions of myself riding a retro bicycle with a straw basket in both the front and the back to carry groceries from the farmer's market, ride on the paved bicycle path and eventually pull a trailer carrying toddlers.

Instead I ended up with a bike that could be used for both mountain biking and street riding.  I rode it often and was content with my purchase, but it did not fit with my personality and I constantly longed for something else. This was a manifestation of the marriage I was in.  I constantly denied my true identity as a way to please someone else struggling with who I truly was and who I thought my partner wanted.

After my marriage ended I was free to find my true self.  I loved to pedal my bike up and down the Boise River so a few coworkers and I got together once a week for a leisurely ride.  One coworker asked to store her bicycle at my apartment.  Oh, how I secretly wished this bike was mine.  I stored it for three years before selling my bike and using the money to buy the green bike from her.  It is nothing fancy; cute comfortable and a little retro, like me.

 I still need to get a straw basked and a trailer for Luke.