I've been feeling older. With 7 kids in tow, I don't care how young I was when I got married or how fast my babies came along, I'm not 16 anymore...or 26. I'm pushing mid 30's, and I've got over a decade of marriage under my belt. So, while I feel pretty silly giving advice, I'm doing it. I'm going to channel my thoughts of "ooh, lookin' rough" as I glance at new wrinkles and remind myself that I really need to start taking better care of my skin, to thoughts of wisdom that I can share.
I'm going to start with the nastiest piece of wisdom that I haven't learned yet, but I'm fighting for it mightily. I have insights into this little corner of motherhood that I'm going to share for what it's worth to those who resonate. If this isn't your problem, just skip on to another blog. Have you noticed I've delayed saying what it is? Post-partum depression. Ugh.
I'm breathing through this because it is so. flipping. hard. to talk about...especially when you're in it. My PPD hits late, like clockwork, 6 months after my babies are born. Sometimes it manifests itself as anxiety (read, attacks: the type that hits when my husband leaves me alone with the kids or I'm trying to rush at a store and either can't make a decision or am stuck with a s-l-o-w cashier). Sometimes it's just good old-fashioned "I hate myself, but I reject that thought because I know it's a sin, but I still feel miserable". I'll stop there. If you've had this, you don't need me to enumerate what it's like. I had a friend ask me about anxiety once, wondering what it was like. Sweetly, she suggested "is it like biting your nails?" I probably shouldn't have, but I said the first thing that came to my mind, "Well, in my case it's more like gnawing off your own hand".
Ok, so now the wisdom and grace part. Grace. Grace and mercy. Oh good Jesus! We draw near to the font of Thy goodness and mercy. You love us. Even if ... all that. You love us. Even though ... and ... You await our love in return. You sprinkle us with grace in our baby's eyes, and smile. The glorious fall colors, warm sunshine. And here's the Titus 2 woman wisdom I'm passing on today: your job is to notice His love, and to bask in it. Heal your weary heart. He loves you and wants to make you happy. I don't care if you feel worthy: no one is. Count those blessings and number them to 1,000. Do it. Write them in a journal or store them up in your heart. Do what Ann Voscamp tells us to do in her gift 1,000 Gifts. That book helped me a lot with my depression. It's not depressing, though. She tells us to be a beauty hunter. Do it. Hunt Him. Hunt his love. Seek Him out in the fresh cool morning air. Drink Him in with hot chocolate (or a Pumpkin Spice Latte. I'm just saying). Hug him in your children, and in your husband. In your husband. Have you had a hard time giving yourself to him lately? Because when you're hurting so bad inside, do you really want to give any more? We give all day. We're tired. So sleep. Nap. Do it. It's so good for you. Then find a moment to paint your nails, freshen your make up, buy a few new clothes. Honestly, have you done that since the baby came? It really really helps. Drink more water. (I'm throwing my advice out there fast and furiously now, so take notes). And exercise. Don't start crying on me now. Do something, anything!, to get yourself sweating every so often. Once a week is a good start, but add more! If two weeks slide by with nothing but housework wearing you out that's NOT GONNA HELP you, but don't let that get your down! Just get going again. Start over again. Confession. (my next advice). Do it. Go. Get clean. The "starting over again" of exercise reminded me of this sacrament. Make use of it. Then if you come crashing down hours after being absolved, make an Act of Contrition. Jesus will forgive you again. And again. You know this, but do it.
Then go get Him. Get Him for real, in the Flesh and Blood. Go to the Eucharist. Eat Him. He will heal and strengthen you.
And then? Walk that path to Calvary with Him. Walk as you go back to your home, your family, your world. Keep Him with you. Easter Sunday will come. Many Easters. Count them. Thank Him for each resurrection. It takes tremendous courage and tremendous trust to go on as a mother. See? You're a hero. God loves you. And all of that PPD stuff? Phooey on it!
<a href="http://www.elizabethfoss.com/reallearning/2012/09/31-days-to-remind-myself-of-the-mission.html" _mce_href="http://www.elizabethfoss.com/reallearning/2012/09/31-days-to-remind-myself-of-the-mission.html"><img src="http://www.elizabethfoss.com/.a/6a00d8341c543553ef017c323f2b90970b-pi" _mce_src="http://www.elizabethfoss.com/.a/6a00d8341c543553ef017c323f2b90970b-pi"width="125"height="125"border="0" alt="31 days Misson"/></a>
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