The Brutal Truth

I've not been ok. I'm now much better than where I was, but this spring has been really rough.

February 20th we found out I was expecting Baby Tuft #2. Milo and this little girl will be 15 months apart and while she was technically planned (there - now ya'll can stop wondering) it was still quite a shock. I'd been banking on my normal "late to the game" body and nursing to make getting pregnant difficult, but CLEARLY THAT WASN'T THE CASE. When the two lines on the test are a surprise you don't know what to feel and it really threw me in a tailspin. Two kids under 18 months. How were we going to do this?! I'd just figured out a good pattern so I could manage working from home, mothering, and somewhat maintaining the house. Dinners were still a far-off dream but I was working on it at least. "Normal life" was on the horizon and I was excited for that.

I waited for the shock to wear off, and it did, but then I just sank and sank hard. Call it first trimester hormones if you will, but I battled with crippling feelings of being overwhelmed. I was now gonna be "THAT GIRL". The typical Mormon girl, of the "married quick, settled down, and whipped out kids" variety. I quickly started to resent that positive test, which made me feel horrible because aren't you supposed to just feel pure joy? How dare I not be happy for this new life, especially when I know so many women who would've gladly been in my shoes.

I thought I hit rock bottom about three weeks after that positive test. Milo was on his second blowout of the day and was crabbier than normal. I turned on Elmo's World, went into my room and just cried. I was so tired. Tired of the same thing all the time. Tired of feeling nauseous (thank you pregnancy), tired of not knowing how to be this new me in this new role. Tired of trying to "make time for myself" because that now had become something on the ever-growing to-do list. Tired of being solely responsible for Milo's well being. Oh, and no where near ready have another baby. I sobbed for a solid hour. I felt like I just could not keep going.

The following hour was spent in total guilt for my feelings. I shouldn't feel like this. My baby is really good for the most part, I'm not recovering from a hard birth, I get to sleep at night, I have the blessing of being pregnant, PLUS, we knew the timing of having this baby was undeniably right. I thought, "maybe I wouldn't feel like this if I could just make time for all those Sunday School answers (read scriptures, pray, temple attendance, make it through all three hours of church etc.)" which only succeeded in exacerbating my guilt.

The thing is.... motherhood is a very different type of thing once you're in it. Milo isn't a hard kid, but there can be a monotony in it all. Milo up, diaper change, feed him, play time, nap time, diaper change, feed, play, nap, diaper, feed, play, dinner, bath, diaper, bedtime. Over and over. Day in, day out. And yeah, I work in that routine, and try to have some me-time, but that's the reality of things. There is far less spontaneity than there used to be and usually I'm ok with that, but I think things caught up with me at that point. Instead of being ok, I got angry. Motherhood was promised to be this wonderful time where you got to learn how to be the most Christlike you'll ever be. It's supposed to be the "highest, holiest, and noblest" of callings, but it sure doesn't feel all the noble when your kid spits up yogurt all over you, or when you're changing the 5th poopy diaper of the day. I didn't go into this was the idea that it'd be all butterflies and roses, but I didn't expect the monotony to be so hard. In some ways I felt gipped? That's the only way I can describe it. I wasn't the mom who couldn't wait for her baby to wake up from his nap to play with him, I didn't cry leaving him with a babysitter, nor did I constantly think of him when I was away. How were all these other new moms feeling like that? Were they all in on some sort of "make Jessica feel bad" conspiracy? Or did they really, genuinely feel like that, and if so, HOW DO I GET SOME OF THAT?!

Another rock bottom moment for me was after General Conference actually. It felt like every talk either focused on families or mentioned families. General Authorities were telling me that having a family was the most important thing you could do and that they'll bring the greatest joy to your life and all I could think was "lies!" But of course, I knew they were right. And if I knew they were right, then something was wrong with me; I was the heathen that needed to change and I had no idea how. I felt like we'd done everything we could to make sure we were doing the right things in our life, including having kids when we did. Where was the "reward after your faith" part? When did the blessings come? And why on earth did I feel like I was backsliding spiritually when everything leading up to this time had been so right?

I confided everything to Kyle that night and he suggested that maybe I go in for a depression screening. Our first prenatal was coming up so at that appointment I told my midwives what was going on and they gave me their standard screening form. Sure enough, my answers put my on the higher end of the depression scale and they suggested seeing a therapist. I wasn't altogether surprised honestly. I knew I wasn't handling things well or as I normally did, but I didn't have any of the other normal markers of depression. I'd never thought of hurting myself or Milo; I wanted him happy, healthy, and fed but I just didn't want to be the only one responsible for all of that. While I wasn't surprised, I still couldn't help but feel disappointed in myself. Milo was 7 months old - how could I be dealing with postpartum depression now, especially when I'd taken big strides to make sure I avoided it?

I started meeting with Lura, my counselor, once a week the day after that prenatal appointment. This has been an immense help for me, so much so that I feel back to my normal self again. Lura helped me realize that almost her entire clientele base was made up of women in nearly my same situation; I was far from alone in dealing with these feelings. She helped me realize that we are angriest at the people that we feel the safest towards because we know there's far less risk of "burning those bridges"; that my anger towards God in all of this, while not necessarily just, was ok. That it meant on some level I trusted Him enough that He was a safe place for me to be angry with Him. This was a huge turning point for me as I was able to let go of not only the guilt that I'd had for this feeling, but also able to really scrutinize where this anger was coming from.

Another turning point was during Women's Conference. I was initially worried that I'd leave just feeling more like I wasn't good enough which I wasn't exactly looking forward too. Sister Oscarson spoke the first night about the importance of covenants in our lives. It was very doctrinally intense but I had a huge "aha moment". Sis. Oscarson said that we keep our covenants by keeping His commandments, we keep His commandments because we love Him, and we can grow our love for Him by serving others. I don't know why it dawned on me here but I realized that my daily, monotonous routine of taking care of Milo was actually me serving God because I know that God looks at any service to one of His children as service to Him. In short, my "day in, day out, over and over, monotony" was filled with service to Him, and that it was helping me keep my covenants. So while I may not have time or energy to do the Sunday School answers as well as I'd like, or as often as I'd like, I'm ok. I'm enough, and I'm doing enough at this stage in my life.

I shared a bit of this a few Sundays ago in my testimony and I was shocked, so shocked, at the number of women who thanked me for what I said or privately, anonymously confided their own struggles with postpartum depression. I think these feelings are something that all moms deal with on one level or another. It's hard not to compare our efforts with those of other women but I think what's hardest of all is thinking that somehow our kids are suffering because of our lack. It's exceptionally difficult sometimes to realize that where we are, what we are doing, and how we're doing it is enough. Yes, we can probably always be doing better but that doesn't mean that what we're currently doing isn't good enough. Maybe if we just hear it enough then one day we'll believe it.

You're probably all thinking, "Whoa, Jess. Way to bear your soul on the Internet!" and yeah, that's a pretty accurate reaction. Just thinking about writing this all out was really stressful. And I hope this doesn't come across as "woe is me!" because I really am doing immensely better. I guess I just wanted to be able to say to someone, even just one person going through something like this, that I get it, I'm there, and that it really, truly, gets better.