Confessions from a Thirty Something Momma

Chaos. That's how I would describe Postpartum Depression (PPD). It's taken 3 weeks of chaos to finally be able to identify what has been going on inside of me. Part of me thinks I should have been able to recognize the signs sooner, having experienced it after my first pregnancy. But then I remember it took 3 weeks of chaos last time to be able to pause and realize something was not right.  So I sit  here, having taken the lowest dosage of Ativan, to help me get through my waves of anxiety over the next few hours. This is a temporarily solution approved by my doctor until I can get in on Monday for an official evaluation and prescription for anti-depressant medication. My heart is racing because I feel anxious. I breathe slowly and intentionally to keep my emotions in control. I constantly feel like crying. I feel desperation for no reason at all. I feel exhaustion and fatigue. I feel a bursts of joy occasionally...

I think people often underestimate how much of an impact their presence in each other’s lives make. Too often our sense of self-worth is perpetuated from what the media dictates. In fact, this subject alone is a bit of a sore spot for me.   I often get frustrated at the messages that say unless we look a certain way, have a certain prescribed measure of financial success, or do some sort of extraordinary act of change in this world, that our lives will be unnoticeable and our impact immeasurable. I promise this won’t be a ranting session on top of my soap box. All I will say on the subject is that I believe we all have a great sense of value and worth just because we are alive. That is enough. And while there are all sorts of commercial ads and judging Jones’ telling me otherwise, I know deep down where it counts that it is true. Something happened recently that only served to confirm this deeper in my heart in a positive way. Three months ago I gave birth to a b...

If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you’d notice that I’m definitely a communicator by nature. Words, articulation, clarity, and intenationality are very important to me. I've spent years working on saying what I mean, meaning what I say, and being as honest and truthful when possible while still maintaining tact and diplomacy. Which is all a fancy way of saying I have a big mouth and I like to talk. So I've had to work on polishing my communication if I wanted an audience. What’s the point of having something to say if no one wants to listen? Especially when I nearly always have something to say? Without a doubt, the receiving and sharing of verbal communication is how I understand people most. I have even learned American Sign Language as I aspired to be an Interpreter for the Deaf in my college days. (I never finished my degree). I am adept at reading body language and have a knack for picking upon people’s moods. Then along came Joel...