Postpartum

"I can throw this away for you if you like," said the Walgreen's pharmacy tech. He was holding my empty bottle of Motrin in his hand. I'd taken one a day from that bottle since Danny was born. He was done using the label on the old bottle to fill my new prescription.

Little did he know the battle that was waging inside of me.

"Yes, that'll be great," I said, confidently. I had won again. I tried not to look too triumphant as I heard the bottle clunk in the trash underneath the counter.

When my babies are born, I have a borderline obsession with objects that were part of those first few days and weeks of life with them. Not just the first outfit they wore home from the hospital, but the plastic from their first package of diapers, or the mug they send home with me from my hospital stay. I don't know what my reasoning is. Something along the lines of being able to preserve their tenderness and innocence through clutter. I know I struggled with this when Grace was born and that if left unchecked it could hinder my progress in getting to and keeping a healthy state of mind as a new mom, so when we got home from the hospital this time, I took a garbage sack through the house at least once daily and threw away stuff. If it hurt to throw something away, I tried to step out of my emotions and look at it objectively. How happy are you going to be in three years that you saved the styrofoam cup you chewed ice chips from as you waited for labor to progress? If I couldn't provide a rational answer, it went in the garbage. I will admit, I hung on to the disposable cover to Danny's bilirubin bed for three days before it went in the trash. He'd punched out that cute hole with his arm! Some things must be allowed a little more time. :)

This is one facet of my personal experience with postpartum depression. I wondered to what extent I would experience it after Danny was born. I am thankful that it has been fairly mild this go round. It's interesting though, this experience at Walgreen's happened 45 minutes ago. I have step back and laugh a little that I really do have to think that hard about throwing away an empty prescription bottle. The fact that it's a decision at all tells me it's still lingering a little, but the way I win a little "battle" each day makes me so thankful that I am doing so well.

Here are some other facets to my whole postpartum experience.

I love my hospital experience. I am especially emotional after giving birth, and it makes me especially appreciative of the care that is shown to me by the nurses. It actually makes it really hard for me to go home. Not that I don't think I will be taken care of at home, but I become attached to my nurses. This time one of the nurses slid an envelope into the paperwork I was bringing home the evening we checked out. When I got home I opened it to find a card signed by all the nurses that had cared for me. It made me cry. Now it makes me smile. It did not go in the garbage.

For several days after giving birth, I have a heightened sense of how fragile mortality is. Danilo turned on Tarzan one night at home shortly after Grace was born, and I didn't tell him, but I got so upset inside and couldn't enjoy the rest movie when Tarzan's parents were killed by the cheetah in the beginning. I can (kind of) laugh at it now (having just experienced becoming a mother again), but I was truly, truly angry. 

The hardest part of the postpartum experience for me is an intense fear or anxiety that settles in and nearly paralyzes me. Fear of all kinds of things. Parent-killing cheetahs, Danilo making it safely home from work, and mostly over the responsibility of being a parent. Will I be able to do this as well as my parents did? I feel so broken and inadequate. This little person depends on me for everything. Will I be able to rise to the task and give them everything they need? I was comfortable with life before the baby and now I feel like my whole world has been thrown up in the air and come down scrambled. Will I ever experience normalcy again?

The night we brought Danny home from the hospital, he cried all night long. I wanted Danilo to sleep so we could have at least one alert parent the next day, so I made a bed on the floor in his room and tried to calm him from sun down to sun up. As I lay there, I had a wave of anxiety rush over me all night long. It was kind of uncomfortable and scary, but I just kind of let it do its thing.

Because this time I can say, hey, I have a three-year-old now and I felt this way when she was born too, but now she is mine and her daddy's whole world. It took several nights to figure out and adjust to life with her, but now it's impossible to imagine life without her.

Something else that has helped make my postpartum experience easier this time round is having Grace here with me. At a time when my emotions could cause me to take life and myself and this whole experience too seriously, Gracie provides comic relief. She laughs when he burps. She laughs when he spits up. She laughs when he goes cross-eyed. She laughs when he chooses to relieve himself when his diaper is off. It's a truly amused laugh. And it makes me laugh too. And while I laugh, I'm thankful that I'm not all by myself taking life too seriously.

Lastly, I taught a lesson a couple of months ago to the young women at church on the topic of grace. It changed my life. I have come to understand that after all we can do, God will bless us with a strengthening power (grace) that will make the seemingly difficult or impossible possible. So when postpartum panic starts to set in, I just remember my testimony of His grace and move forward. Sometimes the manifestations of His grace have been through my own daughter Grace, sometimes a text message from a friend, a priesthood blessing, or a clearer understanding of what I'm going through. These verses were part of my scripture study this morning and I loved them:

This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.
It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.
Lamentations 3:21-24

Surely I am not the only one who has become attached to an empty package of newborn sized Pampers. If you have fun postpartum experiences too, I would love to hear about them. :)  

feeling good

Farewell to a Good Girl

I will always have my dad to thank for bringing us together my junior year of high school.

It all started with trips to and from school everyday.

A couple of times you helped me drop packages on boys' doorsteps asking them to school dances.

We stayed out of trouble on the weekends having lots of fun.


There are moments that I have shared with you and no one else.

We got to go to college together and I remember driving on campus the first day, nervous but excited.

You came with me when I went to tell that boy that it really was all over, and you were waiting for me when I came out.

And you were there the night I pulled over in rainstorm, certain that no one else could hear, and screamed at the top of my lungs in utter desperation to have my life as I knew it back during a particularly difficult battle with depression.

My relationship with God grew as we took early morning trips to the Bountiful temple and I would ponder my relationship with Him on the way home.

You were there the first time Danilo kissed me (the first time in my life I truly saw fireworks).

You overheard our conversations as we discussed what kind of future we wanted to have together.

My getting married didn't change anything between us.

While Danilo* wasn't sold at first, it didn't take long for him to appreciate you as much as I did.

We went to internships and job interviews

and together to my first day teaching school.

A couple of years later when Gracie joined us, you were familiar to her too.

We never went to the grocery store or story time without you. 


You lived with us everywhere we lived, your accommodations were better at some places than others.

Last Saturday you drove away.

Happily I know it's to a good home.

He might not listen to country music or enjoy Josh Groban

but he goes to the same high school I did,

so in some ways you're going right back to where we started.

You were loyal and true and will always occupy a special place in my heart.

I will always feel a certain camaraderie with anybody who drives by in a Geo Prizm

because we most likely have a similar appreciation for what a dang good car they are.  

Thanks for the memories sweetheart.

I love you.

(Sorry so sappy. I really care about this car.)

*Danilo had a harder time letting the Geo go than I did. "Can't we just keep it?" He is proud when he tells people that changing the clutch was the only major repair we made on her in the 6 1/2 years we've been married.

I think I can blog now

I vacuumed the living room right before I took the tree down so I could take a picture... because I did not vacuum once in December... please...let me explain :)

I never checked in here the whole month of December except to quickly announce our baby news. The truth? For some people, pregnancy hormones are not only the perfect storm for morning sickness, but for a bout with depression. I am one of those people.

We found out shortly before the election that we were expecting a new baby (hooray!). When my dreams of having a President Romney were crushed, I expected to feel bad, but I didn’t expect it to drag on for weeks. I felt terribly gloomy. And nauseated. And I finally keyed in to the fact that perhaps my symptoms were not fully related to politics.

During my first pregnancy, I was teaching school, and the world, whether I could keep my breakfast down or not, had to keep turning. I decided to try for the same strategy this go round. I thrive on getting up early and getting things done. I feared morning sickness would keep me in bed all morning, and darned if I would let it. I scheduled all kinds of commitments in the morning that would require me to get out of bed and get moving.

I didn’t feel good for any of it. And the more I did, the worse I felt. Feeling that way day in and day out was wearing on my emotional well-being, which was already thin from the gloomy thoughts and feelings the depression was causing.  I realized one day when my sister was nursing me back to health on her couch with a plateful of chicken nuggets (I am eating like a mother bear at least every two hours) that something had to give. Many things had to give. I decided I could take on one major task each day. Major tasks = one trip to Wal-Mart, one trip to the grocery store, cleaning one bathroom, vacuuming one room, doing the laundry. ONE a day. For years I have exercised at 6 a.m. I bagged any form of exercise completely so I could sleep more (...and continued to eat like a mother bear through the holidays... I hope you get to experience that, guilt-free, at least once in your life!).

The sleep felt good. For the first time, lack of exercise felt good. The little energy I did have wasn’t spent at the gym. And resting throughout the day felt good, though it was hard to see my house kind of crumble in on me. I knew I was refraining from fully taking care of the house for a good reason. Grace and I got to read lots of books and watch lots of movies together.

Little by little as the morning sickness fades away, the depression is too. I saw our baby's face yesterday on ultra-sound, and it brought me so much JOY.

I wanted to include some tricks I use to battle depression when it comes calling. My hope is that some of this information can be helpful to someone else.  

-Knowing what you're dealing with is half the battle. Any battle with depression will never be as bad as the first when it was unfamiliar to you.

-Don't fight it. You will get even more discouraged in the process and it will still settle in anyway. Recognize it for what it is, and know it might stay for awhile. But also know you've beaten it before.

-Understand that the depressed you is not the real you. When you have irrational feelings and thoughts, instead of wondering if you're going insane, blame it on the hormones or lack of serotonin in your brain, and don't give them much more airtime than that. The sane, rational thoughts belong to you and they will dominate more and more as you do your best to just push through each day.

-Don't worry about what you might be losing because of your bout with depression (example: I'm having a baby, this is supposed to be a really happy time and I feel like this???) There is much to be gained from a bout of depression that will make you a better person. The losses will be made up in one way or another.

Each of these tricks represents a light-bulb moment I had in the midst of a bout of depression. Somehow I always think these tricks will be enough, that I won't get down and discouraged but be able to sail on through. While the tricks are essential in getting through, I always find I have another one to learn with each new bout of depression. Here's something I have gained from this time around:

I can choose to be happy in spite of depression (sounds kind of ironic, I know). I was really inspired by this article, and it helped me throughout the Christmas season. Depression kind of colors the way you see everything, but I made a deliberate effort, especially at times and events I was looking forward to, to enjoy them and be happy. I would think to myself, I know the way I'm feeling right now tells me I should feel really lousy tonight, but I've been looking forward to seeing these people, so tonight, I'm going to be happy.

Something I must relearn each time is to trust that whatever adversity I am experiencing is for my good. I sing its praises for all it has taught me, but depression is awful. It is difficult, demeaning, debilitating, causes you to severely doubt yourself and sucks life out of you and the things you enjoy. When you're looking at it in hindsight you think it probably wasn't quite so bad. But when you're in thick of it, you think, "Oh. I remember."

However, I recently read this quote by C.S. Lewis (I love his reasoning on God):

"The tortures occur. If they are unnecessary, then there is no God, or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary, for no even moderately good Being could possibly inflict or permit them if they weren't."


P.S. These kinds of things run in my family... for a blog detailing my sister's experiences with anxiety, please visit this site.

Nephi, Blogging, and a Bout with Depression

If you haven't ever met Nephi, I am thrilled that I get the chance to introduce you. Nephi is the first prophet whose story is told in the Book of Mormon, and he is physically and morally strong. He is the youngest of his brothers, but because the oldest two are hard-hearted and generally choose wickedness over what is right, the Lord chooses Nephi to be a ruler over them. The two books of Nephi are filled with stories of Nephi doing one noble and courageous thing after another... and I'm going to tell you about one of them.

Nephi has traveled several days into the wilderness with his family when his father tells him that the Lord has commanded Nephi to return to Jerusalem with his brothers to retrieve the brass plates from Laban. The brass plates contain the records of their ancestors. Nephi's answer is firm and resolute... he will go. After a few attempts at visiting Laban, it becomes very clear that Laban intends to kill Nephi and his brothers and to never hand over the brass plates. On what becomes his final attempt, Nephi approaches Laban's home and finds Laban drunk and collapsed on the ground. The Spirit constrains Nephi to kill Laban, and when Nephi hesitates, he is instructed that "it is better that one man should perish than that an entire nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief..." without the record. Nephi kills Laban, retrieves the plates and grants Laban's servant his freedom if he will join them on their journey to the promised land.

Nephi is righteous and firm and unwavering and inspiring. And as our Sunday School teacher pointed out last Sunday, he is also human, and he grants us a glimpse of that from time to time. The first time the brothers attempted to get the plates from Laban, they cast lots to see which one would go and make the request. The lot fell on Laman, the oldest. He leaves on the errand but returns empty-handed and tells his brothers that he had to flee because Laban threatened to kill him. And then the scriptures say, "...and we began to be exceedingly sorrowful." Reading between the lines, I see a young man trying to do his best. He has just completed a journey of several days through the wilderness back to Jerusalem with a couple of his brothers most likely murmuring most of the way. And when they try to do what they have been sent to do, their lives are threatened. I think for a time Nephi was at a loss for what to do, and I am so thankful he wrote that he was exceedingly sorrowful about it.
Because I want to be like Nephi. And there are times in my life when I am temporarily at a loss for what to do, and during those times I don't feel like I'm being like Nephi... until I saw this side of him. The important thing is to know the end of the story. We know that after his period of sorrow, however long or short it was, he rose to the occasion and with the help of the Lord accomplished with his brothers what they set out to do (read the whole story here).

Every so often I hear debates going on about the "best" way to blog, especially as women. I've read women wishing other women would be more honest and not present their life in such a picture-perfect light on their blog (have you seen this? It's written by a guy in his twenties to poke fun at mommy blogs, and it's stinking hysterical). I've also read the other end of the debate where people have discussed how it's possible to be too honest and share too many complaints regarding how unfairly life is treating you with whoever out there might be listening. I think there's value in both ends of the spectrum. When I see a picture of a beautifully decorated mantel or a spotless kitchen, it inspires me to make my home a more beautiful place. I am guilty of arranging things in a way so that I wouldn't be embarrassed to post a picture of it on the internet. On the other hand, I have been grateful when friends have opened up about a truly horrendous day at their house and how it made them feel, because it makes it easier for me to not take myself too seriously when I am dealing with a similar situation at a later time. What it all comes down to is that if you are blogging regularly, it must be satisfying, and you can blog about whatever you want to, whether you're at either extreme of the spectrum or somewhere in the middle.

I think Nephi (not a blogger, but still a writer) fell somewhere in the middle. He desired to record the events that showed how good the Lord had been to him and his family in the good times and the bad. He is always uplifting and inpsiring and encouraging. But sometimes he opens up and is extremely honest about how certain situations made him feel when appropriate, and that's when you read language like, "O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh...I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me" (2 Nephi 4:17-18).

I'd like to fall somewhere in the middle too. When I post something, I feel like I've made a small contribution to the world, and I want to make sure it's positive... so I try to share the very best of me. Somedays the best of me might include how I am coping with the worst of what is going on.

So I think that's why I want to confess to you that I just emerged from an episode with depression. It was the strongest it has been since this point in my life. I'm not even quite sure what caused it. I think my emotions were very close to the surface after experiencing such a wonderful Christmas that it left me open and vulnerable to an emotional crash.  I hid it well. I even had to confess to Danilo that it had happened tonight before I posted this for anyone else to read. I started to recognize it for what it was one night when I realized how excited I was to go to sleep because it would be a temporary escape from reality. If you have never felt the pangs of depression, I expect a statement like that to sound ludicrous to you. After all, I have a loving husband, and a precious daughter, a warm home and food to eat. I truly hope you never know why. Don't be alarmed though. I am armed with tricks and techniques to combat it that I didn't have the first time depression came knocking at my door. While I'm never excited when it rears its ugly head, I am thankful each time it has happened because I become more familiar with what it is and how to better cope the next time. There is a book called Living With a Black Dog: His Name is Depression that I found a lot of comfort in reading during the last stages of my first bout with depression. Anyway, the last page of the book has a picture of the man embracing the black dog. While it can be fearsome and horrific, I too have learned to love what my black dog has done for me in teaching me humility and compassion and a mountain of other lessons I treasure, as well as strengthening my relationship with God and His Son, Jesus Christ.

As I came out of my first episode with depression, which had lasted nine months, I emerged with a passion to extend hope to anyone who found themselves in that condition. If you are there, I want to tell you that I have been where you are, and there is a way out. Even for you.

In What He Has Refused Me

Today I was thinking about some things I am really, really, really hoping for right now. That got me wondering what kind of person I would be if I had gotten everything I wanted when I wanted it.

If I had gotten to ride the carousel every time my mom and I went to Kmart when I was a little girl, it would have been expected and not special. Instead, I still remember how excited I was to drop the quarter into the machine when Mom said it was okay.


Same goes with getting gum or candy at the checkout line in the grocery store. Because it wasn't a given for every grocery store trip, I learned that I didn't get everything that I wanted, but the times when I did were more meaningful.


If my parents had agreed once I entered jr. high to spend their money on the most expensive jeans and shirts and shoes for me, I would have felt like hot stuff, but I might have not learned to look deeper than clothing. I might have chosen my friends based on their wardrobe choices and not how I felt when I was around them.


And again, the birthday when I opened up a brand new pair of Doc Martens wouldn't have been as exciting to me.

If I had married my first love, I might have been happy. I for sure would have missed out on some terribly painful heartbreak. But I never would have met and fallen in love with my Danilo, and I thank heaven on my knees that that's not the case.


If the hardships I have experienced had been lifted the first time I asked for them to be, I would have missed the opportunity to allow Heavenly Father to see me through to the end, letting Him show me that I can do hard things and that He was mindful of me through the entire process. He has taught me that this will always be the case, without exception, throughout my entire life.

This knowledge is carrying me through our job-hunting-house-building-roller-coaster of an experience.

“I have had prayers answered - most strangely so sometimes - but I think our heavenly Father's loving-kindness has been even more evident in what He has refused me.”
--Lewis Carroll

She loves spring too.

I know because one of her new favorite words is "ah-sai".

Thank you for your kind responses to my last post. During that bleak time I described, I had no idea this little girl lay in my future. I have been as blissfully happy as my despair was deep.

After reading one more excerpt from my journal that year, you might understand why I felt I needed to post what I did.

I gain a little bit greater insight each day, and each one gives me the strength I need to hang on and keep trying. I have these highs when I know that everything is going to be all right and I almost feel like myself again, only a more refined, polished young woman than I was a year ago. It gives me a great desire to help others, ANYONE who ever finds just the act of living to be painful.
It was one little way I hoped I could. If I can offer you any further encouragement, I would love you to let me know.


Thank you again for your kind words.

I love spring.

I can finally say that although I don't understand all of it, I am grateful for what I have experienced this past year....It was like I'd been hit by a train. Depression leaves you with nothing to live for, you hardly have the will to open your eyes, even though you have everything to live for.

the earliest stage of my depression
that smile is not real; I didn't know what was happening to me

I know how suffering feels. I know how it feels to be completely hopeless, to feel like you've lost everything, like you're garbage, to loathe yourself. I know what it feels like to believe that God has abandoned you, and that it's all your fault.

Christmas Day 2005
I don't know who took this picture, but I didn't feel I was worth
the lipstick on my face; I'll spare the pictures on the days I didn't
make an effort to get ready for the day

But what a glorious gift it is to come to the realization that all of that is lies, and that in your suffering you have actually come to more fully know God, understand what He went through, and become more like Him.

This comes from my journal, February 2006. I was realizing that I was overcoming a near year-long battle with depression and that I was going to make it. As a result, that spring was especially meaningful to me. It was like as the world was coming back to life, so was I. I saw everything with new eyes. And every time spring comes around again, those same feelings and memories of being excited to live and love life again return more powerfully than they do at any other time of the year.

Some of the most important things that came to me as a result of this most defining time of my life so far was:

1. A deeper love and appreciation for family. I am not capable of expressing what I learned about how much my parents love me through this experience and how it brought me closer to each of my sisters and brother.

this is the picture that hung on the wall during my depression;
I remember looking at myself in the picture thinking
"where did that girl go?" I started to believe she wouldn't
ever come back

2. I met this boy not too long after

finding my ultimate definition of happiness after so much despair

and 3. I emerged with the assurance that GOD IS ALWAYS THERE, present, mindful of you, even when you are convinced He isn't. This understanding has helped me every single day as well as through other difficulties that have come.

The following song on this video brings me to tears when I consider it as a prayer. My sister Hailey discovered it when she went to Lion King last year, and I want to thank her for being a giver and letting me share it here, because I know it is meaningful to her as well. To anyone who has ever experienced an endless night. If you are still there, may you find the strength to hang on because I promise dawn will come.


It almost makes me uncomfortable to write this last part because I don't know how to say it, but there may be some of you reading this that remember this period of my life and you were part of the answer to many many prayers. Your concern, your love, your support, and unconditional friendship helped me to make it. Thank you.