Hey New Mamma!

Hey New Mamma,

You are so tired. Your heart has never been so full. You just want to cry and hide in bed all day. You have never felt a joy like this before. You have so many emotions mixing together. You want space and yet at the same time you can’t hold your baby close enough. You are trying so hard to bond. You want to feel connected. You feel so distant.

I know what you are feeling, because I was you. I am you. There is nothing that could have prepared me for the days, weeks, and months that followed the birth of my son. Nothing. The highs and lows of emotions are the craziest roller coaster I have ever been on. One minute I would be laughing at the little strange noises my little man was making. The next minute the tears would start. The baby blues are common, but what I was experiencing was something a bit more.

I say that sleep was my biggest problem and for a while I convinced myself it was my only symptom of postpartum depression. Looking back though, the worst part of it all was the distance. I just felt so distant and disconnected with everything. I just didn’t realize it. The exhaustion masked all other feelings. I felt like I was watching the world from afar. I wanted to feel an inseparable bond with my new baby but ‘mommy’ didn’t feel like a role that I fit in. I tried harder and harder not wanting to fail, not wanting my baby to notice that his mom was not really present. I overcompensated by kissing him more, hugging him tighter, singing to him, rocking him. The harder I tried though, the further I was slipping away. I was so scared my baby would think I did not love him.

I want to tell you what I wish I could have told myself. You already have a beautiful bond with that beautiful baby. You are his or her whole world. Your baby loves you and knows that you love him! Give yourself time. Relationships take time to form. But just wait–the first smile, the first giggle, the first hug they give you, the first kiss! 💖 Heart explosion 💖 I promise you feel connected and it will be a bond stronger than you ever imagined. Just wait for the first time your two-year old runs into your arms and plants a kiss on your face. Just wait for the day when you walk into the room and your child see’s you and his or her whole face brightens. Just wait. It will be worth it. You will be ok.

With help, overtime, with support you will feel connected, you will feel less tired, you will be present. Seek the help you deserve. Advocate for yourself until you find the right help. It’s not your fault you feel distant. It is postpartum depression and you will get BETTER!

My Story–All the Feels

This is a hard post to write because it is hard to look back at a time when you were so broken and remember everything you felt.

From day one in the hospital I was overwhelmed. I thought I had prepared myself for the birth of my son, but nothing can truly prepare your heart, your mind, your body for this life changing event.

My birth plan was thrown out the window, I was in labor for 19 hours ending with an emergency c-section. I was exhausted. I remember asking the doctor before surgery, “Are you sure my body can handle this?? Are you sure I will make it out alive?!?” Looking back now, I can see that my downhill spiral started before I even met my son for the first time. I was in a state of exhaustion, panic, and uncertainty.

Everything seemed to be hard. So hard. I wanted to breastfeed, but I felt like I was drowning every time I tried to feed my baby. I wanted to hold him close, but I wanted space.

My body was so swollen, I thought for sure I would never not be swollen. I couldn’t wear shoes for almost 10 days! In hindsight, that should not have been a big deal but at the time I was horrified by it. I wanted to run away from my body.

My c-section incision opened up on day 11 postpartum. That was terrifying. At this point, I remember asking my husband to promise me he would take care of my son if I died. And I was serious. I thought my time was coming to an end. Even when the doctors assured me I was ok and would heal, I didn’t believe them. I thought I would never get better. I didn’t really feel sad, I felt empty.

That first month is such a blur. I don’t really remember many other emotions. I know I loved my baby. I cuddled my baby and held him tightly. I was trying so hard to bond. I didn’t understand why I was feeling so distant. Then one day, it was like a light bulb switched on and I emerged from the fog. I’m not sure what exactly happened to make me feel different, but I did. I began to feel normal again. The second month was great. I was getting into my groove, baby and I were finding our way. Our bond grew strong and I began feeling confident in being a mom.

Then, just as seemingly as the light bulb switched on, it switched off. This time it attacked my sleep. One night I just laid awake all night long. This was around the time baby actually started sleeping. I thought maybe my body was just adjusting to a new routine (one where I wasn’t up every 2 hrs.) This is when my journey with postpartum depression got real.

I was so tired. I did not sleep for more than 2 hrs a night for about 2 weeks straight. The more this continued, the deeper the exhaustion became. The deeper the exhaustion became, the more guilty I was feeling for not being an energetic mom. The more guilty I become, the more broken I felt. The more broken I felt, the more I overcompensated by trying to convince myself I was actually fine. After all, I wasn’t sad, I didn’t want to run away, I didn’t feel depressed. I was just tired.

I remember crying to my mom one day, “What if he thinks I don’t love him?” Irrational thoughts.

I remember crying to my husband, “What if I never can sleep again? What if this lasts forever?” Anxious thoughts.

I remember crying to my sister, “Why is God allowing this to happen? Why??” Desperate thoughts.

Despite all this, I still did not know I was suffering from postpartum depression.

One of my biggest fears was that my son would think I didn’t love him. I worried that he would sense that something was wrong and because of that I cuddled, hugged, and kissed him more. I love him fiercely throughout it all. Trying desperately to shield him from this cloud I was seemingly in. I think that protective instinct a mother has for her children is really what led me to seek help. I needed to be the best version of myself for him and I was nowhere near where I wanted to be.

I say that sleep was my biggest problem and for a while I convinced myself it was my only symptom of postpartum depression. Looking back though, the worst part of it all was the distance. I just felt so distant and disconnected with everything. I just didn’t realize it. The exhaustion masked all other feelings.

Determined to get the help I needed, I found a psychiatrist that finally diagnosed me with postpartum depression. There was a part of me that wanted to deny it, and a part of me that wanted to jump with joy that someone recognized it. I had seen so many doctors that just wanted to prescribe sleeping pills and tell me I was fine. It was refreshing to have someone clinically explain to me what I was experiencing. Sleep disturbances are often one of the first symptoms of a perinatal mood disorder.

We dealt with the insomnia first. Medicine that would help calm my thoughts and allow me to sleep. Reluctant to take the medicine, desperate for sleep, I struggled if this was the right choice. I needed sleep so desperately that I took the medicine. I slept. It was the right decision. Next, was addressing the underlying issue, the depression. Zoloft. I cringed when I heard the doctor tell me he would prescribe an anti-depressant. So many questions, emotions, thoughts ran through my head during the two-week struggle I had with myself over whether or not to take the medicine. I prayed for the Lord’s direction and guidance. I finally took the medicine. It helped. It allowed me to become the mom I was meant to be.

I usually tend to take a more holistic approach to my health, so in combination with the medicine I also changed my diet, added supplements, exercised, and saw a counselor who specialized in maternal mental health. Yes, I had to drive an hour to see her. Yes, I had to pay out of pocket. Yes, it was worth it. Above all, I prayed and then prayed some more. I realized that He never leaves our side, and will never give us more than we can handle. My Jesus, my savior, gave me the strength I didn’t have. I was broken, and He molded me back together.

I write this post with the hope that if you are reading this and feel anything like what I have described, please get the help that is right for you. Surround yourself with a support team, and talk to them about what you are feeling. It gets better once you acknowledge the issue.

You will sleep again. You will connect again. You will be ok.

3 months postpartum..

3 months postpartum diary entry. Motherhood is hard. Understatement of the year! It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done and gone through. I had a great pregnancy, however, they say there are really four “trimesters” and the fourth one kicked my ass!

My labor was a disaster I started having contractions four days before my beautiful boy came into this world. I was in active labor for 19 hours, 14 hours without an epidural. I hired a doula because I really didn’t want to have a c-section. Ultimately other plans had been made. After 19 hours it was determined that my baby was not coming out naturally and an emergency c-section took place. It was the strangest feeling knowing that things were completely out of my control and in the hands of the doctors. I couldn’t even see my baby for about five minutes after he was delivered. I heard his cry and knew he existed. But the time between hearing his cry and when I finally had him in my arms seemed like an eternity. It was so surreal to hear people saying “oh, he’s beautiful” about my child who I hadn’t even seen yet. I really did not like that feeling.

To make matters worse, I was completely exhausted. When were moved to the maternity ward, we did not have a good nurse. It felt like we were thrown to the wolves with a new baby in tow. Our nurse didn’t even give us our handbook or explain how things worked. She apparently had better things on her mind, given that her shift was ending in thirty minutes. That she did tell us.

I had taken breastfeeding classes and read the books and watched the videos. You would think that should have prepared me a little bit. Yeah, right! I might as well have watched Breastfeeding 101 with my eyes closed and earphones on. That’s about as much as I knew when it came down to it. The night nurses didn’t offer to show me/teach me. I had to wait till the next day when the lactation nurses were in! And this was supposed to be a good hospital! I think I was there on the wrong day. It was St. Patty’s day— looking back they all probably were off to party and drink green beer!

Summing up my delivery experience I would say that it could have been a lot worse, but it also could have been a lot better. Emotionally, it set me up on a difficult course. One that eventually would take me to my lowest lows and my highest highs. A course that would lead me to self discovery, spiritual awakening, and the greatest love I could ever imagine. I discovered the love a mother has for a child. And I discovered the love of the Father. The ultimate, unending, unconditional love of our Lord and Savior and His desire to always help us get up.


I decided to start this website because adult-ing is really hard, and being ‘mom’ is even harder. I felt the need to create a space where we can all come together to share and relate to one another through the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, the triumphs and the challenges.

I suffered through postpartum depression after the birth of my first son and I wish I had a place to go and know that I wasn’t alone. I discovered that as many as 1 in 7 moms (and that is just diagnosed cases) suffer a period of postpartum depression after childbirth. That’s a lot of moms! Knowing that we are not alone in our struggles is such a relief. I wanted to create a space where I could share my experiences with others, with the slight chance, that maybe I could help someone in the same situation. I am happy to say I am fully recovered and now I want to share my story with you. A story full of self discovery, spiritual awakening, and the greatest love I could ever imagine. I discovered the love a mother has for a child. And I discovered the love of the Father. The ultimate, unending, unconditional love of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and His desire to always help us get up.

“For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper, not to harm, to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11.

Here’s to our wonderful futures!


Your Scar is Beautiful

Exactly 16 months ago today I became a mom. My son came into this world full of life and my entire world changed the minute I heard his little cry. My delivery did not go as expected and ended with an emergency c-section leaving me with a fat belly and an ugly scar, albeit a beautiful baby that overshadowed all of the above. That is until a few months later in the scorching heat when I went to put on my swimsuit. My incision had not heeled as well as it should have due to complications after the surgery. I have never had much confidence in my own body and now I had even more to hide!

My bikinis either did not fit or were too low and showed my scar. I tried to shrug it off and sum it up to the fact that I was now a mom. I purchased a one piece that covered as much of me as possible. I felt very self conscious that first summer. That is until everything changed one night.

I had come home from the beach and was changing when my husband walked in. At this point I was even self conscious about my scar in front of him. He could tell that I was guarded in front of him lately. He looked at me and then ran his finger along my scar and said “your scar is beautiful.” What?! It was not beautiful, it was red and raised and bumpy, anything but beautiful.

“It looks like a happy face!” I giggled, in a way I could see what he meant. I asked him why he thought it was beautiful. He proceeded to tell me that he loved my scar because that was how our son came into our world. He was right, my whole heart was full because of that scar. Now that was a new perspective. While I still don’t love how my scar looks I do love what it represents. This summer I have a much better body image. I even wore one of my bikinis and felt great in it. Learning to love your body is all about your attitude and I am so grateful to have a new perspective on mine.