(There may be affiliates in this post but I only share the things I love!)
As a believer in Christ, I wholeheartedly believe that that my faith in God’s word has been the biggest proponent for my recovery from depression and healing from my grief. (I don’t believe grief ever goes away entirely, but we are capable of growing through it.) His promise to his children is firm, and unwavering, but how effective is his word if we do not understand it, nor know how to apply it to our daily lives.
We as moms and caregivers have this unrealistic notion that we do not have the time to care for ourselves. We spend weeks and months, maybe years on end without doing any kind of regular self care activities.
We hear all the time “You can’t take care of anyone else if you are worn out or sick.” My
first thought to that is “Why not?” I’ve been doing it for this long already.”
But the fact is, that likely, until our health becomes a problem or we have a major tragedy, most of us mom’s just don’t get it; the real importance of self care.
After my son was born with multiple, life-threatening abnormalities, I knew I needed to seek therapy. I struggled so long to find a new perspective on my own and I was getting nowhere. I was drowning in my grief and depression and unable to cope with the loss of the child and the life I had always dreamed of having. – Casey Adams
“For every tear I have shed in pain, in fear, in grief; every tear in frustration, and guilt, I will shed 1000 times more in JOY….”
I can feel his heart beating against mine. I feel the rise and the fall of his chest as his breaths mirror my own. I can see his tiny feet poking out from beneath his blanket. His body is completely relaxed and at nearly four years old, his 28 pounds feels heavy against me. Continue reading
Life is what you make of it. Some days, it just takes more strength to smile, more patience, more determination, faith, gratitude, more grace to let my light shine through all of the pain. Those are the good days. And then, there are those days, stretched so thin, I can’t escape it.
Everywhere I turn, a family grows, a baby walks, a blessing is snuffed out. What sadness and great loss that can be forever etched in someone’s soul at the hands of someone else. How one traumatic moment can steal
Edit 10/17/2017:
In 2014 I opened this blog to help me through the challenges I faced mentally, as I coped with the changes recently after our youngest son was born. We had no idea until he was born, that he would be so sick. A piece of me died that day and many, many more pieces in the days and months that followed. You can read about his diagnosis here.
Lost, alone, and broken, I feel deeper and deeper into a “pit of Hell.” The darkness took over the light that once was so bright inside of me.
Gone were the dreams I’d once held; the vision of the life I’d worked so hard to build was destroyed. What was I to do now?
Today, equipped with so many more lessons and more knowledge and more wine… I hated to delete what started it all. I didn’t continue the blog past a few posts, but it was the start for me personally that had shaped who I am today.
The dreams and passions stored within hearts are powerful keys which can unlock a wealth of potential. – John C. Maxwell
If you are struggling with grief or depression, know that you are not alone. There is joy left in this world for you and you are capable of finding it again.
As I lay here in bed, my mind is spinning from all the events of another long day on the road. Another day spent shuffling between appointments.
Seeking help for one kid with ADHD and the other wearing a heart monitor for 30 days. It seemed I was just starting to get comfortable again. I’ve should have seen it coming, I guess.
My heart hurts for a friend that has reached out me. She says that she is struggling; barely managing. She is sinking in the bottomless pit of responsibility of caring for a medically fragile child. The pressures and stress that come when you are the one holding everyone else together, tend to imprison we Special Needs mommas with the perception that there is not time to care for ourselves because everyone else needs us…. right now. It’s that exact imprisonment, that almost stole my light for good, nearly 2 years ago. I know all too well how badly she is hurting. I want to wrap my arms around her.
I pray for her.
My thoughts move to my close friends, that are laying their heads down tonight with huge gaping holes in their hearts. The holidays are approaching. The first, since they lost her, and more than likely, the most difficult one they’ll ever face.
I pray for them.
I can hear my husband banging around in the kitchen. I’m so thankful for him. He has stood by me as I fell from everything we value. He is still here as I continue to my journey to stay in the light.
I pray for him.
I am so tired. Why am I so emotional?
Oh God! GOD!??? Nope. Nope Nope!
That’s not funny, God. Just NO!
The images flash through my mind. The exit ramp and the rough turn and the bridge. “My” parking spot. It’s taken. I don’t need it any more any way. They can have it. The doors slide open and the rush of warm air causes me to squint my eyes. The shiny floors and the huge round logo seated into the concrete. That is where we stood to take our “Coming Home” picture. The sounds of the waterfall below the stairs that lead to ambulatory surgery. The smell of the coffee shop that we’ve never been to around the corner. The gift shop, the visitor badges, the red wagons. The influx of people, the scrubs. I see one of Kolt’s surgeons going up on one of the elevators while talking on his phone, dressed in full surgery attire. We waited today for several hours. As we left, there was a chopper coming in. Someone was sick. A child. Someone’s baby. Just like my baby.
It isn’t the first time I have been back. In fact, I’ve been back too many times to remember. I have always felt a connection to this place. So much of me died here. But here, I learned a lot about living too.
I am beginning to realize that being there today, has started to evoke emotions in me that I’ve been holding back. I truly love that place. But dammit, I really hate it! It hurts. This place and all the memories, the anger and pain, and darkness. The loneliness and frustration and fear!
The tears begin to flow. The pressure around my chest builds, the memories are like fire in my throat. My stomach clenches and I’m positive my heart physically hurts. I curl into the blankets, my face is wet and my eyes are swollen. The silent screams in my head are taking my breath and now I’m struggling to find even the smallest break for air in between the echoes of sobs, while I’m clenching my teeth as though to keep my family unknowing of my moment in despair.
I don’t want to go back! I can’t go there now.
Lord, I can’t do this.
Tonight, I am too tired.
Please Lord, help me lift this pain.
Hold me tight in your embrace.
Shine your light upon me.
Cast these thoughts from my mind.
Dear Lord…
Tonight,
let me sleep.
These are my confessions.
In 2013, I had been having some visual changes with my second pregnancy. No big deal, right? Pregnancy gets a bad rep for causing all kinds of freaky changes to a woman’s body. I mean, you could seriously start growing a purple mustache and your doctor would probably blow you off and say it’s just because you’re pregnant. Continue reading
While my faith seems to settle me more for the long term,
I’m looking for something to hold on to today,
because when the sun sets, and the noises of the day are gone, that is when
Now that that official business had been stated, it’s time to be totally transparent. My life is a beautiful mess….well, sometimes. I like to think of it as organized chaos.
My youngest son was born with CHARGE Syndrome Continue reading
One Well Momma 