The other day, while doing my usual bedtime Facebook scrolling, I came across this
post. Looking at the pictures, I could not help but feel a sense of recognition. I am the mother in that picture. While you may see my pictures/posts and assume the very best, life is not all smiles and happiness. I do not do this intentionally, and I try my best to be very transparent when talking about my life. However, in a world consumed by social media, it is hard to see beyond the perfect pictures.
I have a love hate relationship with social media. I love to share my adventures, and my handsome little man with the people I loved scattered around the world. But at the same time, I feel that it is destroying our society, and our relationships. We see these perfect pictures, and start to compare our lives to those of the perfect people we follow. We do not understand why we cannot measure up, why we cannot obtain this "perfect" status. We forget that life is not always going to be perfect, and that there is always a story behind the smiles. One of the most interesting concepts to me, have been the social media "support" groups. I have been involved in several mom groups, and realize that they may only make things harder. Being a mom is hard enough, and comes with it's own pressures to be perfect. Then, there are the "mom groups" that you are supposed to be able to go to for support, and when you share something raw, you are met with judgement and arguments.
In my quest to shine more light on postpartum mood disorders, and share a teeny part of the story behind my Facebook/Instagram smile, I give you this...
I have dealt with anxiety and obsessive thoughts for a very long time. When I share this with people, they are usually shocked. Many people perceive me as a pretty mellow person. When in all reality, I am almost exactly the opposite. Calm, cool, and collected is just the cover of the book. When you open it, it is more like a tornado of craziness. I have gotten so good at talking myself out of my crazy thoughts, and rationalizing why things that I worry about do not make sense, that people do not realize what is happening under the surface. When I make a tiny mistake, I obsess over it for a lengthy period of time. Then, when I forget it, and it somehow comes back up down the road, the guilt and obsession pops up all over again. You may think that makes no sense at all, but it is a tiny view into how my brain works. I once cried almost an entire drive home from Detroit (to Chicago), because I hit a bird on the expressway, and it may have had a family that it was caring for, and now I have ruined their lives too. Does that seem like the silliest thing in the world to you?! Probably. But, I will tell you that was 2 years ago, and I still think about it more than I would like to. Do not try to make sense of it, because it does not exist.
Now, let us jump into what happened when I got pregnant with LB. My oh my was I a complete mess of a person!! My pregnancy was amazing. It was completely uncomplicated, I felt amazing (physically), LB was perfect, and I was finally getting something that I wanted so badly (to be a Mommy). However, with that beauty came a lot of pain. I spent my entire pregnancy waiting for something bad to happen. I though obsessively about LB dying inside of me, or during childbirth. When I say obsessively, I do not mean it crossed my mind everyday. It was on my mind even when I was asleep. Luckily, I had an amazing group of people around me that listened to every crazy concern, and supported me through it all. I am not even sure that they know the full extent of how I felt, and how much they truly saved me from myself. In my mind, everything would be fixed when he was born. I could not wait to hold him in my arms, because once he was in my arms, I could see him. If I could see him, then I could fix anything that was thrown my way. I thought having him in my arms would ease my mind. WRONG!!
After the most amazing birthing experience, my little bear was in my arms. He was perfect, healthy, and doing everything the way he should. But, that is when the real struggle began. My anxiety heightened, and my obsessive thoughts were at an all time ridiculous level. I did not sleep for a solid month in fear that LB would die in his sleep. So, in my mind, the rational thing to do was to watch him and make sure that did not happen. Sleep was finally an acceptable action after my friend Kari shared some research that a doctor in Seattle (?) was doing about a link between inner ear trauma and SIDS. In the brief reading that I did, he mentioned babies failing their hearing tests, which may be from inner ear trauma, which he was linking to SIDS. Well, and I do not know if Kari knows this, but this article is the reason I allowed myself to sleep. LB had passed his hearing test with no issues, and in my mind that made things okay. Does that make sense!? No, of course not. But it is what got my body the rest it needed.
Next, the only person that I trusted to watch LB, if I was not there, was my sister. I did not even trust his safety to his own father. If something bad was to happen, my sister was the only one that could handle things (again this was in my mind). Needless to say, that, among other things, placed a massive strain on our relationship. It nearly broke us apart (luckily SOMEONE is a little crazier than I am). Now looking back, I feel bad because what was happening with me, made his first time dad experience a little more complicated than the norm. I am lucky to have a guy that wanted to do all the parenting things. I was even luckier to have a guy that dealt with all the madness, and stuck with me through it all. We are by no means perfect, but we manage to stick together even when we want to pull each other apart.
Unfortunately, I lived in the world of "everything has been perfect, now something bad has to happen". These are just small examples of what I dealt with on a daily basis. These are thoughts that I could not rationalize my way out of. No one could guarantee that these things would not happen. I know what it is like to suddenly lose someone, and because of that, I cannot talk myself out of bad things happening. I have experienced the rug being ripped out from under me, and now I live in a world of constant worry that it will happen again.
If you are reading this and wondering, "Why didn't she just go to her doctor!?". That is a great question, and the answer is simple. When I was in the depths of it, I could not see that I was in it. When I finally started to climb out of the hole, I looked back and realized how far down I really was. I know now, that I needed help. I know for the future, that I will get that help before any of the issues even pop up. If I did not have the family and friends that I have, I would not have made it out the other side. As much as I would love another child, and boy am I asked that question enough, I cannot wrap my head around going through that struggle again. Plus, the crazy part of me thinks about how great LB's pregnancy and delivery was, and says there is no way that can happen twice. I deal with the anxiety everyday. I am not fixed. Hell, I still poke at him when he sleeps too soundly!!! This is an everyday struggle. So, when you see the smiles, just remember there is always a story. Life is not perfect, even if it looks that way on Instagram.
Until next time, huge kisses and lots of love to you guys!!
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| "Before Alice got to Wonderland she had to fall pretty hard down a deep hole." |
