Light and Dark

I live with a ray of sunshine. When she smiles, she smiles with her whole body. Light just pours out of her and her enthusiasm is contagious. She never fails to have a smile, a pat on the cheek, a hug for those she loves.

But lately it’s been hard to live with her constant effervescence because it is such a stark contrast to how I feel.

Since Little Sister was born, I’ve been drowning. Sinking rapidly into a murkiness I’ve been trying to wade through since Rowenna was born. For a while, I thought it was Rowenna’s diagnosis. Then I thought it was learning about my translocation. Then I thought it was staying home when I desperately want to work, being lonely at home all day, then the losses, then a hard pregnancy, then “baby blues.” For all these things, people said it was “ok” to be sad for a while, I cobbled a coping system together, and I always had a glimmer of hope that I would be sad for just a bit as I figured it out, and then life would move on.

But it never went away. Working through each of the things I blamed for the darkness didn’t make it go away – I just got better and better at saying the “right” things so no one asked too many questions. I would come to a place of acceptance, but would still be inexplicably sad. The muck just got deeper, and when Afton was born it was like the bottom just dropped out from beneath me and I plunged down.

It got to a point where I was simply unable to accept love. I didn’t want hugs, I didn’t want to talk, I didn’t want to hold my brand new baby. I could barely get out of bed, never mind leave the house. I felt like a raw nerve, a live wire – ready to spark at the slightest provocation.

I felt like I wasn’t deserving of this love Rowenna showered on me and the innate trust Afton had for me. And forget feeling like I deserved to be married to hubby. That man is a damn champion to stay with me after so many years of my ever-increasing sadness. For taking Rowenna on a walk when he could see I just couldn’t handle another mess, tantrum, or diaper change. For scooping up Afton when he saw I just couldn’t cope with her many newborn needs.

It all came to a head one day when both girls decided to melt down simultaneously and all I could do was cry right along with them, totally incapable of doing anything else. Nothing was the “right” thing – they didn’t want to eat, they didn’t need diapers, they didn’t want snuggles. They just wanted to cry. So we all did. I literally had nothing left inside me to fix it for them. This came on the heels of some difficult conversations and experiences in the prior three days, and I think something in my mind just snapped.

I just. couldn’t. cope. anymore. I wasn’t able to fake it or push aside the darkness for the sake of my girls. I canceled a trip home for Easter. I stayed in bed.

And when my little ray of sunshine came into my room to pat me on the cheek, and I couldn’t meet her eyes because I didn’t think I deserved to be her mom, I realized then and there that I couldn’t do it alone anymore and I needed help. Immediate help. I was out of things to blame for the darkness – it was clear that I needed professional support to help me.

So I started calling doctors until I found one who could see me right away. (The difficulty in finding timely mental health services could be a whole post of its own.) I’ve started therapy and will be starting medication. It seems I may still be dealing with untreated postpartum depression from Rowenna’s pregnancy and some pretty wacky hormonal stuff from being pregnant 5 times in 4 years on top of the normal stress of raising a vivacious young lady and a newborn. I finally realized that all the self-help in the world wasn’t going to change my body chemistry or put an end to the negative scripts I’ve been playing in my head for so long.

I have a course of treatment in place and for the first time in a very, very long time I can see some light at the end of the tunnel. It’s a long road, and as I inventory the things I’ve been missing and the relationships I’ve let crumble over the last few years I can see how rocky this road is going to get before I reach that light. I have a lot of things to mend.

But until I get there, I have sweet Rowenna who loves so effortlessly to remind me that I am going to be ok, and gentle Afton to snuggle on the days the darkness feels like it might swallow me whole. For that, I am grateful. For my family, I will continue to heal.