It seems like there is a lot of trouble in many people's lives at the moment. Have you noticed that? It's to the point where I kind of just want to hide from the world so as not to disrupt the balance that I actually do have in my life. Things are just really good right now. Solid and happy and just plain ol' good. But sometimes I feel like I'm the only one in the whole wide world who can say that. I'll get caught up in wondering why, and then think, "Uh oh, are we next?" But I stop myself and remember, no, we already had our turn. Harlee gave us the gift of pain, of turmoil, of rough waters. And when I say "gift" I really do mean that, because once we worked through it, the pain and heartache really did turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to us.
This is something I've been wanting to write about for quite some time now. There have been a few things holding me back though: not being able to get all my thoughts organized and my point across, fear of people thinking I'm weird, and fear of people not understanding me. I've decided to quit caring what people think of me and just try my best to write this, because it's bound to help someone, even if it's just one person, and that's all that matters.
I've learned so much on my journey of healing after
Harlee's birth. If you don't know my back story, keep reading. If you do, you can skip down to the next section. Basically, I was desperately hoping for a homebirth, basically because of my natural outlook on life and desire to live that way, and also because of my fear of hospitals, and I got the exact polar opposite of that - late decels in his heartrate during labor, a trip to the hospital, and an emergency c-section. I'll never forget the day I sat in the living room with my tiny newborn, watching my husband and midwife deflate the unused birthing pool, realizing all my hopes and dreams and everything I believed in deflated with it.
That's where everything started. Hopes and dreams deflated and lost; questioning God and the Universe (things I once felt so confident and comfortable with); sleep deprivation with a colicky baby; PTSD from a scary, unwanted major surgery; and depression. Cold, raw, ugly depression. Complete with nightmares, intrusive visions, loss of motivation, loss of desire to keep moving forward, anger at loved ones, anger and disgust with myself, uncontrollable outbursts, and loss of all hope in a brighter future. Not to mention a complete uncertainty of how to get out of this mess.
So, I started going to ICAN meetings - a support group of the
International Cesarean Awareness Network which is "a nonprofit organization whose mission is to improve maternal-child health by preventing unnecessary cesareans through education, providing support for cesarean recovery, and promoting Vaginal Birth After Cesarean (VBAC)." I met some awesome people who had been through what I'd been through and knew the defeat and loss I was feeling. They guided me toward looking into counseling for further healing. I began seeing a counselor who specializes in postpartum depression. I brought Justin with me a few times because our marriage was crumbling under my intense mood swings and his inability to understand what I was going through. I will, to this day, say that decision saved our marriage and is the reason it is as strong as it is today. Unfortunately that counselor wasn't exactly who I needed in my life to further my personal healing, but I will say she did catapult me into taking matters into my own hands. She said my PTSD and postpartum depression were pretty bad, and recommended that maybe I should try getting on a pharmaceutical antidepressant. I guess she hadn't caught on that I prefer to avoid drugs, and it was medical interventions that got me in this mess in the first place, therefore getting on an antidepressant would kind of defeat the purpose for me. So I stopped seeing her, and fortunately realized, wow, if I'm in that bad of shape, I really need to do something. The best things for depression are diet and exercise, and a great supplement to support healthy moods is St. John's Wort. I wrote a post about depression,
click here if you'd like to read more about it as a condition and how to treat it naturally. So I got on St. John's Wort, started watching what I was eating, and started jogging around the neighborhood with Harlee in the jogging stroller (ok so I started out walking, then kind of awkwardly trotting because I was overweight and sucked at running, then slowly worked my way into what you might consider a jog). One thing led to another and I discovered
the Paleo diet, cut out grains and bad carbs, signed up for personal training, discovered
CrossFit, lost weight, felt great, and finally got my life back. But in the midst of all that, something was still a bit off. I didn't feel quite balanced yet, or healed from what happened with Harlee's birth.
I believe everything happens for a reason. I believe in Divine Intervention. I strongly questioned all of those beliefs after the turn of events with Harlee's birth, but all my questions are gone now. In the moment I was thinking about going back to counseling because I didn't feel quite right yet, but I wasn't sure if there was a point to it or who I'd even go to, I came across a brochure for a counselor in Kirkwood and I felt a kind of pull when I read it. I called her up, scheduled an appointment, and, let's just say my healing journey just got real.
She encouraged me to keep a journal and start writing down all of my thoughts and feelings. That was one of the best things I did for my mental and emotional healing. I processed my questions, and in my stillness in pondering my questions on paper, I found answers in my heart. I started piecing things together, not just from Harlee's birth but from my whole life. Seriously, if you need a good way to process your feelings and thoughts but can't afford or don't have time for a counselor, write it all out in a journal. Give it a try, it's hugely cathartic.
This went on for about two years. And then, I felt brave enough to tackle one of my biggest fears - getting pregnant again and facing the unknown of birth. So I did, and then we
miscarried. And interestingly enough, the healing process after that was pretty smooth. I knew it happened for a reason, and I accepted that even though I may not understand it now, I'd understand it later, and find gratitude in it. Then we got pregnant again, and, after a very awesome and empowering pregnancy,
I gave birth to Elliot at home (after a long, grueling labor).
Where I'm at Now
Now here I am, nearly 14 months after that event, and I've been happily floating through life without having to dig deeply into my soul or answer existential questions about my presence here like I had been for the past two to three years.
Instead, I've been observing. I've seen my friends and clients and community go through traumas and losses - death of parents, of children, of friends, of colleagues. Heart attacks, strokes, cancer, car accidents. Separations and divorces for an array of different causes. Losses of jobs and financial security. Miscarriages, stillbirths. Rapes, suicides. Near-death experiences with long roads of recovery. So much trauma and pain. And more and more people are opening up about depression. Asking me for advice on how to heal, where to go from here.
And all I can think for you, if you fit in one of the aforementioned categories, is, Wow, you are actually really lucky. Like, you have no idea.
You are so, so lucky. You don't see it now. You feel the exact opposite of lucky. The exact opposite of blessed, of fortunate, of all these things I think of you right now. You do not see a light at the end of your long, dark, tunnel. But I do. I've been down that tunnel. I've been down in that hole. And let me tell you the light on the other side is brilliant. It's beautiful. And that light is exactly where life is trying to send you.
But it takes work to get to that light. Probably the hardest work you will ever do in your life. So much soul searching, so many questions. But don't give up. Keep asking questions. Ask for help. Be open to answers, to guidance. You're on a journey - take it one step at a time, one day at a time.
Surrender. You've hit rock bottom. There's only one direction to go: up. Surrender yourself to the Higher Power and let the answers come to you.
Maybe you'll find the perfect book or article with answers. Maybe you'll meet someone who's got a perfect solution, maybe a new exercise buddy or someone with insight to healthy eating to help you make a lifestyle change. Maybe you'll come across the perfect counselor or therapist. Maybe you'll wallow in grief and self-pity until you get so sick of your own self you slap yourself out of it and get in gear to make changes. Even if the change is something as simple as seeing your doctor to get on a medication. I know medication isn't for me, but I see no shame in it - if you're taking action to better yourself and your situation, then that's commendable, no matter what you choose.
Stay open and aware. Be receptive to signs guiding your way. Think things through before making decisions. Weigh your options and the consequences that come with your decisions on where to go next. Be open to the love and support that comes from the people around you, but don't abuse it. Be humble. Be gentle. Be aware.
If you work at this, and find your way up out of that hole, the person you are about to become is someone you never dreamed you'd be. Someone you never knew you had in you. The strength inside you is immense, the awareness profound. Just wait til you get there. It's amazing. You're going to learn so much from this. And if you get there, then you'll understand why I say you're lucky to have hit bottom.
But you can only get there if you are willing to work for it.
Just don't give up.
Someday this will all make sense. Someday you will be able to look back on these hard times with forgiveness, and perhaps even gratitude. Because it made you a better and stronger person. A happier person, living a more fulfilling life. And you earned it!
Today I look back on all that I went through and I can honestly say I feel grateful for the experience. I feel like I gained so much insight from it, so much perspective on life, that I never had before. And I feel stronger and braver, too - if something bad happens, I know that it's for a reason, and I'll get through it and be a better person because of it. And knowing that makes the bad things seem not as bad. I still struggle. I still have fears. I still have bad days. But in the grand scheme of things, life is pretty awesome, and it's all because at one point life really really sucked, and I made the decision to heal and grow from it.
And you can do that too.