2under2 – Matriarchs and Maids

My Mental Illness

I fear my mental illness, and often that fear makes it hard for me to cope with it.

On Sunday, I woke up feeling a little off. I brushed it off and got dressed and ready to go to church with my family. We were scheduled to serve in the kid’s area that morning. I signed my kids into their classes and headed up the stairs to find a seat in the auditorium. As I was walking to the stairs, I felt the shift. I sat in my chair and tried to brush the feeling of panic away. This is where I needed and wanted to be. I had commitments, and I needed to be okay. Heat flooded my body; my legs became weak; the beautiful music became a noise that felt so overwhelming. I decided to escape and find a quiet space to calm my nerves and pull myself together.

Once I was alone, I started working on controlling my breathing and calming my mind. It began to work, but in an instant, panic overcame my mind, and I could not control the fear. My heart began to race, my arms and legs started shaking uncontrollably, and I had to lay on the floor in the bathroom because every time I tried to stand, I would lose my vision. The instant adrenaline that rushes through your body, telling you to run, flee, find safety feels overwhelmingly powerful when there is nothing to escape from. I realized that I left my phone with my husband, which only made me feel trapped. The feeling of being trapped and unable to escape only fuels the panic.

The fear is indescribable and makes no sense to a person who has not experienced it. It’s lonely, it’s terrifying, it’s isolating. It feels as though your body has been set on fire; invisible arms are around your neck choking you that you are unable to break free from all while you are in chains and unable to escape. Your enemy can sneak up on you and debilitate you in moments. There is no warning; there is no time to prepare. You have been placed on the frontlines of a war with no weapons and no army to protect you. That is a panic attack.

This battle usually takes time for me to recover from. It isn’t a come and go type of deal. I have to put a lot of work in to improve and get back to normal. Commitments don’t always get honored; leftovers are usually for dinner, and I am out of service. Shame and guilt are waiting at my doorstep for me to open the door. Sometimes I pretend not to be home, but I usually end up inviting them in. They quickly become un-welcomed guests that I don’t ask to leave. So, they stay, and I become a prisoner in my own home until I take control and show them to the door.

Mental illness is like the best-kept secret. It lives inside of you and is unknown to the ones around you. It cannot be seen or heard. It’s a secret that no one knows you are carrying. Mental illness has no description, no specific face, no labels. It can be the wealthy, the successful, the hippie, the planner, or the one that appears to be just fine.

I am learning to not fear this disease; I am learning that I don’t have to hide it, I am learning how to cope with it, I am learning when to push ahead and when to take a break, and I am learning that it is nothing to be ashamed of.

My mental illness does not define me.

My mental illness does not control me.

My mental illness does not make me less of a person.

If anything, it has taught me how to fight, how to persevere, to endure, and to overcome. It has humbled me and given me more compassion for the ones around me that struggle with their demons that I do not understand.

My mental illness how taught me that it really is okay to be different.

7 Ways to Support a New Mother

Welcoming a new baby into the world is an exciting and thrilling moment for many. The Grandparents are ready to get their hands on their newest grandchild, friends are dying to hear every moment of your birth story, and almost everyone you know is asking to stop by the hospital or your home to pay you a visit. They promise it will be short, sometimes they come with gifts, but honestly you sometimes wish that you could just lock your door and hide away with your new addition for a while. Becoming a new mother is one of the best moments of your life, but it can also come with a flood of emotions, lots of tears, and little sleep.

When I became a mother for the first time I felt all of those exciting emotions. After 10 long months of growing this baby, it was finally time to meet him and hold him close to my heart. However, I also felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the amount of people inside of my hospital room, overwhelmed by the amounts of advice I was given, and tired…so very, very tired.

Everyone wants to be helpful to a new mother right after she has given birth and has joined the new motherhood club. Here are a few ways that you can show support to your friend, daughter, or co-worker after she has welcomed her new bundle of joy.

1. Congratulate her! I absolutely loved receiving all of the Facebook messages/text messages from friends. I was unable to check my phone for a while, but once I got the hang of breastfeeding and both my husband and baby were sleeping quietly beside me – I loved scrolling through my phone and reading the messages of congratulations. I was so proud of my baby and I was honored that so many other people were just as happy and excited as I was. But I was very glad that I received those congratulations over text rather than had several people lined up at my door while I was recovering.

2. Prepare her home for her return. My mother and mother-in-law cleaned my house while I was in the hospital. They put clean sheets on the bed and filled the house with flowers. I was so relieved to come home to a clean house and laundry put away. I felt like I could rest and just enjoy spending time with my baby while I recovered.

3. Seasoned Mother’s – don’t be afraid to drop of a few items on the doorstep that you know that a new mother will need, but she doesn’t know yet that she will need. Numbing sprays, sitz baths, doughnut pillows, nipple creams. When I was a new mother I had no idea that I needed to stock up on these items before giving birth. Who knew that numbing spray would be such a gift from God after giving birth?

4. Keep your visits short and sweet. A new mother is often still trying to figure out a schedule for herself and new baby. Breastfeeding can be stressful in the beginning – I never stick around when it is time for baby to eat. I want my friend to feel as relaxed as possible during that time. I also want to give her the freedom and time to connect with her baby. A new mother is sleep deprived and it can be hard entertaining guests for very long. See her, love on her and that precious baby, and then let her take a nap!

5. It is hard for some mothers to ask for exactly what they need or want. Don’t be afraid to offer your services. Excuse her from the room to take a nap, hold the baby while she takes a shower, run a few errands for new mom. Let her know that it takes a village and during this time of recovery and healing – you are at her service!

6. Be her shoulder to cry on. Baby blues are real and very hard for a new mother to share with the people around her. She has waited so long for this baby and may feel guilty for crying tears of sadness and overwhelmed that she doesn’t fully understand. Make her feel comfortable, share your own experiences with baby blues. Validate her and let her know that she is not alone.

7. Be the gate keeper of your own tongue. During this time a new mother is often given a lot of tips, advice, and stories. Ask yourself if what you are sharing is positive and relevant advice to the situation. Maybe don’t tell her that she is never going to sleep again or that your baby was a perfect sleeper and never cried. Just encourage new momma and remind her that she is doing great.

It is important to acknowledge that everyone is different and what will work for one person will not always work for the next. I loved having friends bring me and meal and stop by to eat with me and hold my baby. I enjoyed the close friends who came to the hospital to visit me – but what I needed during that time may not be what another momma will need. Don’t be afraid to ask! Love on that new momma and just be available to her.

Today, somewhat is enough

Today the house work somewhat got done and, for today, that was good enough.

After making a fun Saturday morning breakfast of waffles and fruit, the dishes are rinsed but still in the sink. Today, instead of prioritizing the breakfast dishes, we played outside as a family. The kitchen is clean after a long day, somewhat, but that’s good enough.

It’s the beginning of the weekend and work is on pause, but the life of a parent continues.The yard work is first on the To-Do list with two in tow. The leaves are raked but the grass is being put on hold for the rest of the day. Instead, I will be joining my two toddlers as they play with the water hose. Today, the yard work is finished, somewhat, but that’s good enough.

Tonight, we were supposed to do the grocery shopping and take the car to be cleaned. Somehow, too many things ended up on the To-Do list. Instead of cramming in just one more thing I am accepting that what needed to get done got done, and the rest can wait. Because my sanity means more to me than a gourmet meal, chicken fingers are on the menu for tonight, but that’s good enough.

The laundry is folded but remains on top of the dresser waiting to be put away. The laundry got done today, somewhat, but that’s good enough.

The previously clean bathroom is now… not. Covered in today’s activities—the wet clothes from our water games piled in the floor, the muddy foot prints made by tiny toes—a room that was done is now undone. But my kids tiny sun-kissed faces are covered all smiles. Today they made a memory and that is worth the extended To-Do list. The bathroom may now be undone, but it’s good enough.

Our household floors are covered in what tracked in from the outside along with today’s lunch. It could use a good mopping but instead it will just be swept. Instead, mommy and daddy are going to prioritize each other and get in a little quality time under the covers with a movie and a glass of wine. Today, the floors are clean, somewhat, but that is just fine. Today, it’ll be good enough.

It is almost the end to my husbands weekend and he is ready to spend a evening kicking his feet up and getting some much needed rest but he understands my inability to relax when things go undone. So, instead of resting he puts my needs above his own. My husband is rested, somewhat, but to him that’s good enough.

It is Monday morning and we are feeling the rush of the new week. My husband is up at 5:30 getting ready for work and giving babies their bottles, putting them back to bed so I can get a few hours extra sleep. When the children and I get up and start breakfast I notice a note on the side of the counter with the word Bride written on the front. Before my husband rushed out for work he took a few moments to say good morning and that he loves me in a letter. It wasn’t a date night, but to me it was enough.

As parents sometimes we do just enough but, sometimes, that’s enough!

PCOS and Hemorrhagic Cysts

Yesterday morning as we were packing to head home from our vacation a felt I sudden pain in my lower stomach. It came on so quickly and the pain continued to get worse. After blacking out several times we decided to go to the ER
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I have a hemorrhagic cyst on my ovary and one cyst ruptured-which was the reason for the sudden pain. I have had several cysts burst but nothing that ever felt that painful. On Monday I will speak to my doctor about hopefully removing the cyst when I have my laparoscopic surgery in May to remove the endometriosis.
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To say I am feeling a little defeated is a understatement. PCOS and endometriosis is a hard disease to live with. It effects your fertility, you are often having to manage pain, and not much can be done about it. .
The past six months have triggered my anxiety. I feel like something bad is always right around the corner. But I am resting in the promise that God is bigger. I am being tested, I am being challenged, I am being stretched to thin-But not even this is bigger than God.
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Thankful for my family who love and support me, thankful for my team of amazing doctors, thankful for my friends and family who continue to walk with me.
This journey has continued to show me the miracles that my two babies really are. Nothing is impossible for the Lord, nothing is bigger than Him. In this life we will have troubles-but what amazing gifts he gives us along the way.

Check On Your Friends

Check on your friends who just had a new baby
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Check on your friends who are entering into college
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Check on your friends who struggle with mental illness
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Check on your friends who are working longer hours at work
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Check on your friends who smile
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Check on your friends who have a lot on their plate
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Check on your friends who you haven’t spoken to in a while
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Check on your friends going through a break-up
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Check on your friends who lost a loved on
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Check on your friends-period.
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Send a meal over, send a quick text, lend a helping hand, offer a word of encouragement, give your time and attention-But check on each other. We need each other.

Moms Don’t Get a Break

Moms don’t get a break.

It’s nap time and my baby should be sleeping. I walk into her room to calm her and give her the pacis that she has thrown across the room and, of course. She’s pooped.

Moms don’t get a break.

It is a beautiful day and we’re playing at the park. I breathe in the fresh air and enjoy the scenery, welcoming the sunshine. But my son has fallen off something and scraped his knee, so I’m off to kiss boo boos.

Moms don’t get a break.

My one year old is cutting four teeth at the same time. We’re out of gripe water, essential oils, and teething toys… not that they worked anyway.

Moms don’t get a break.

After a long day the babies are fed, bathed, and safely tucked into bed. I enter the living room with my glass of wine and I see toys—all of them—still scattered throughout the house. I have options though: leave them where they lie (but my OCD will simply not allow that… next!), get daddy to do it, or pick them up myself. I sigh as I set down the glass of wine.

Moms don’t get a break.

It’s 8am and the babies are ready to start the day. I roll over to a 100 degree headache and body aches. The cold that I tried so hard to avoid with my Lysol wipes and constant thieves essential oils has finally caught up to me.

Moms don’t get a break.

It is day five for this unwashed hair. I try for a quick shower, military style, but after only a moment of peace I see tiny toes interrupting my solitude. I forgot to lock the door.

Moms don’t get a break.

Why does the majority of every meal end up under the table?

Moms don’t get a break.

I am bleeding and just found out we are having a miscarriage-our third one in three months. I still have two toddlers who need me to be mentally and physically present.

Moms don’t get a break.

It’s date night in. The roast is perfect, the movie has started—I hear a stir and a scream. The oldest has had a nightmare and insists on joining in on mommy-daddy time.

Parents don’t get a break.

I didn’t know this was what I was signing up for. No matter how many parenting books you read, google searches you make, or people you seek advice from, nothing can ever fully prepare you for the journey, responsibility, and commitment of being a parent. It’s very much a day to day learning process. I am tired, I am dirty, I am never untouched.

Yet, this is the most out-of-body, exhilarating, amazing life to live. I choose this daily. I commit to this responsibility daily. This is parenting. It is a daily choice to evolve, improve, and sacrifice of one’s own desires for what is best for my off spring.

I could choose to give up, I could choose to let this rip away the woman I once was. Instead I grow as a person, my heart has grown ten-fold. I would not be who I am without my babies.

I do not get a break, but that is my choice. A choice that I am happily committed to making for the rest of my life.

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Sickness and Motherhood

Embrace the dirty fingernails

My new life as a mother required me to evolve with it. At first I tried to hang on to my old self. I always said I wouldn’t allow certain things with kids, but I was wrong. In order to truly enjoy them I had to let them enjoy life. Embrace the mess, the chaos, the unpredictability.
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I have to remind myself to let them be little and let them be dirty

A letter to my friends having babies-you are not my trigger

A letter to my friends having babies—you are not my trigger.

The past six months have been challenging for my family. We live in beautiful, but sometimes overwhelming, chaos. Our two year old is strong willed and, when left unattended for a moment, he has figured out how to scale the walls and swing from the ceiling fan. Okay, so maybe that was a bit dramatic. More like shoving plastic Christmas berries up his nose, but you get the picture. Close behind him is our beautiful yet sassy one year old redhead. And let me tell you, redheads do indeed have an attitude to be feared.

Along with our two children we have three babies who we have lost. Two miscarriages and one ectopic pregnancy within six months. Grieving is a process, but as a mother that process must often be put on hold, shelved for a later time. Thankfully I have an amazing support system who has been on this journey with me.

This is baby season for many in my group of friends. A lot of them are welcoming their first child while others are adding to their tribe. One of my good friends is having her first baby the same month that I would have welcomed Haven, the first baby that I lost. Maybe this should be hard and I should be retreating. Maybe I should be putting blinders on and just not participating in this celebration of babies.

But I am here to say to you, dear friends—you are not my trigger.

We all grieve differently and we all have different needs through painful seasons, but I have found my safe Haven celebrating in this season with you.

I absolutely love attending your baby showers.

I enjoy purchasing those tiny little newborn clothes for your newest addition.

I feel blessed to be able to sit on the couch with you and cry as you begin your journey with your newborn while also navigating postpartum.

I am overjoyed to bring your family a meal.

I am honored to celebrate with you.

Dear friends, let me reassure you once again, you are not my trigger.

I am in the trenches of motherhood with you. When I welcomed my babies into this world you were on my doorstep with a meal, encouraging me with a sweet texts as I struggled through sleep deprivation.

Holding my baby so I could eat a quick meal.

Allowing me to cry tears of frustration during breastfeeding days (and long nights).

You reminded me that I was a good mother even when my toddler was throwing yet another major tantrum.

Through each season you were there for me. Through infancy, toddler tantrums, and pregnancy loss, you were there.

I am honored and comforted to be walking with you into your new season of life. I am here with the numbing spray, bottle of wine, and open arms to help you along the way.

Dear friends having children—you are not my trigger. You are a source of joy and celebration, of blessings. Of hope.

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Just Pick The Red Shopping Cart

I’m thankful for my non-judgmental mommy friends.

The sun is finally shining… goodbye frostbite, and hello itchy, puffy eyes! Spring is here!

Pack the diapers, fill the sippy cups, and everyone grab a toy… we’re venturing outside of this prison we call home. We’re going on a play date!

We’ve colored on all of the walls, torn apart every book, and used every possible inch of this house as a new time-out spot. Winter is hard for mommas. I’m just praying that my toddlers know how to act in civilization. I think I’ve managed to teach them proper manners, despite the chaos of our hibernation period, but can one ever be confident with a toddler?

We arrived at the park and, so far, things were going pretty well. My son was playing sweetly with his friend, my daughter was tolerating life, no one was crying. Okay, this is going well. I have the good kids today. Phew! I could have sworn that once my child started saying “you stop it mommy. Obey me” that embarrassing public temper tantrums would be in my future. After all-we’ve already had a few.

One time—yes, only one time—I decided to venture out of my household with two under two to the grocery store. I had a little chat with my children in the car (who were both too young to really understand or care about my bribes and begging to behave and not embarrass mommy) and firmly instilled in them who was in charge. I am mommy. You are little person. You obey me. I am their leader and they are my followers. Now let’s go to the store.

I walk in with my head held high. This momming thing wasn’t so bad. I got this. Maybe it’s even time to add another addition to this tribe.

That all ended the minute we started loading into the shopping cart. You know, barely a minute into our adventure. I idiotically chose the wrong color shopping cart car and my son was LOSING. HIS. MIND. He wanted the red one and not the black one. Tears were flowing and arms were flailing. I should have just switched to the red shopping cart but I didn’t. I was mommy. They obey me. I’m the leader after all. I stood my ground. We were riding in the black shopping cart. I walked shamelessly through the store with my screaming children. The network of mom shamers seemed to know I was coming and they were lined up with their judgmental eyes darting my way. Within five minutes I raised my white flag and ran out of the store with my screaming babies. Moms, choose your battles. Take the red shopping cart.

The husband got a text message with the grocery list later that day.

I digress. So here we are, again. I am out in public with my two children without backup. They start to get cranky so I call for lunch. I’m sure that will distract my son from losing his cool for at least another 45 minutes. My friend neatly takes out her picnic lunch and had a beautiful little spread for her daughter. Her meal is nutritious and she even remembered to bring a little place mat so her daughters food doesn’t get covered in dirt. I didn’t even know that was a thing.

I pull out our peanut butter sandwiches and gold fish and shamelessly(ish) set them on the dirty picnic table. My son starts throwing his sandwich on the ground in protest and my daughter begins to chew on the plastic wrapper. My son decides he wants his friend’s lunch so he puts his in the dirt, and now I’m having flash backs from the last time we ventured out without daddy.

In a desperate attempt to regain control I whisper in my son’s ear to behave. Listen and obey mommy. He loudly tried to take his place as leader and yelled “no mommy. You obey me!”

and ran off. Well… crap. My friend and her sweet, well behaved daughter begin quietly cleaning up their lunch while my children are finishing off their last few bites. You know, the ones my son threw in the dirt? Yea… those.

Later on at the swings I admitted to my friend that I was still learning how to parent my strong willed child and sometimes I just felt like I was failing. She quickly encouraged and reminded me that we are all figuring out this life as a parent. She never made me feel embarrassed, or looked at my son like he was the devil even though he was acting like one at the time.

I was finally able to relax and enjoy our time together. My son started feeding off my less-stressful demeanor and started playing sweetly with his oldest friend. They began swinging and sliding together and I was able to have good conversation with a human my own age. This scary task of adventuring out alone with two in tow became a little less scary.

Thank you to my mom friend who didn’t judge me or my toddler when we had a moment… or four. Thank you for offering sweet encouragement instead of the infamous “If you would do it this way they wouldn’t be acting like that” followed by the mom glare that we have all seen in a weak moment standing in the never ending grocery line.

These are the friends that I keep close in my circle. They make me a better mom and better person. They give me the strength to continue venturing out and trying new things. They give me the confidence I need to raise my children the best way I know how. I hope we can all become more like that mommy friend.

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