Guilt and Shame

I usually do a pretty good job of heading off that awful dragon in the back of my head that roars "not good enough!" But this week has been rough.

It's all innocent stuff.

A trip to the pumpkin patch with her beloved baby-sitter complete with adorable pictures.

A painting of a pumpkin that she created with her Grandmama.

The fact that when she throws a fit at dinner, I'm the one that takes her to time-out on the stairs where she has already perfected the "I'm mad at you" glare and huff with her arms crossed.

The first words out of her mouth when I pick her up out of the crib in the morning - Da Da.

Next week is Halloween and I have a volleyball game that night - she'll go Trick or Treating with Craig and our friends that have a daughter Natalie's age.

But it's all the little stuff that is piling up and weighing on my heart.

I feel guilty that I'm missing out on all the fun fall activities - the pumpkin patch and Trick or Treating.  I feel guilty that I haven't done any fall crafts with her - no painting and I didn't even make her costume.

And then I Mommy-shame myself.  I work too much and so she's forgotten about me.  I sacrifice my time with her to go to a Book Club.  Our family time is spent at a high school volleyball game and not at home making crafts and playing with stuffed animals.

That little dragon is roaring at me that I'm not good enough and that Natalie would be much better off in the hands of those other people that love her.

Craig tells me I'm being ridiculous and that Natalie doesn't hate me.  He tells me that I'm about to be spending tons of time with her and we'll reestablish our bond.

But right now in this moment I just can't believe him.  That little dragon is just too loud for me to ignore.

My Girl

I'll be honest - for the first year of Natalie's life, I dutifully put together a monthly post all about what she was up to and all the new tricks she had learned.  They were upbeat, positive and raving about my precious little girl.  But most of the time (especially for the first six months) it was a facade....obviously I was protective of this little girl who had been brought into our world but she didn't quite feel like MINE.  Or I guess, in other words, I didn't quite feel like her mother.  I was putting on a show and going through the motions of what I suspected mothers who instantly felt that rush of emotions for their child did.

And here we are at fifteen months old as of June 8th.

This might be the first post where I am fully invested in the words that I write.

I am absolutely infatuated with my daughter.

She has me transfixed on her slightest moves and twitch of her face.  I have become that mother that is entranced by a peacefully slumbering child.  I truly want to capture every moment of her life (good and bad) because I now understand how quickly time can change a newborn to an infant to a toddler.

I have missed enough of her life.  I refuse to miss any more.

She is truly a beautiful little creature that has wandered into my life.  From the concentrated furrow of her eyebrows while coloring at the coffee table with me to the look of surprise and "uh oh" when the unexpected occurs.  The way she moves her toys around in the playroom, not quite in any discernible fashion to the observing adult but in a manner which is obviously important to her.  Although she doesn't quite have the words to explain it, there is always a method to her madness.

I am seeing more and more of myself encapsulated in her tiny frame.  An innate love of water and dogs that is shared by the generations of women in my family.  Or tonight when playing at a friend's home, she didn't want to cook or serve the play food at the plastic kitchen.  No, not my child.  She carefully....methodically....put each cooking utensil, each pot and pan stowed safely and neatly away in the bottom of the kitchen.  Just like she does with Momma when emptying the dishwasher.  Or the pride and determination in her face and demeanor as she struts through the house pushing baby dolls and stuffed animals in a stroller.  But what really gets me about the stroller.........after she puts her baby or animal in the seat but before taking off on an adventure, she delicately gives her creature a kiss on the forehead.  I kiss her every time I put her in her carseat.  Every.  Single.  Time.  She is an observant little thing.

Dolls.  Stuffed animals.  Coloring.  Swimming.  Playing pretend.

These are things I understand.  This is the stuff that my childhood is made of.  Hours spent arranging and rearranging Barbie doll house furniture.  Or taking my Cabbage Patches on fabulous voyages across the world without ever really leaving my white wrought iron day bed.  Summers focused on perfecting my back dive and crawl stroke.....and my tan.  As I watch her at play, I can see the layers of her babyhood shedding off day by day and there is a little girl starting to peek out; MY little girl is peeking out.

She is brave, my girl.  Much braver than I ever was.  She has no fear of strangers and the unknown and instead walks boldly into new experiences and delights in discovery.  Even at fifteen months old, she is teaching me.  Forcing me to step outside of my own comfort zone and make contact and conversation with the woman she just happily waved at.  She is curious and contemplative.  She does not just look but seeks understanding.  Looking from her point of view, there is so much I take for granted.  A tree is a tree to me.  But to her it is all new.  She doesn't know about the soil in which the tree is rooted in.  Roots that lead up to a trunk protected by bark.  A trunk that provides support for the branches which give way to leaves.  And how without the rays from the sun and the rain from the heavens the tree would wither and rot away.  There is so much in the world for her to discover and find enchanting.

A year ago, the amount of knowledge my child had to learn overwhelmed me.  I was consumed with giving my child the best possible advantage in life.  I was determined to not make a mistake in order to not damage her.  Because sometimes there are things out there in that big enchanting world that can destroy sweet little girls like the one I was holding in my arms.  But just as she has gained her footing on this Earth, so have I in parenting her.  I take things step by step.  I protect her from what I can and from what I should at each step in our journey.  But I give her the amount of freedom she needs to grow strong and to be independent.

And strong and independent she is.  And smart and sweet.  And lovely and joyful.

A long time ago I couldn't picture a future for my family with myself in the photograph.  All I envisioned was a little bit lonely and a lot bit sad daddy raising his beautiful daughter all on his own, the best way he knew how.  In my eyes he was the one brushing hair into a ponytail for a basketball game.  There was no hairbow because there was no Momma to put on the finishing touch.  There was no Momma to teach her how to be tough and feminine at the same time.  I saw him completely flustered shopping for prom dresses with an impatient teenager.  A fight ensuing because there wasn't a mother there to help find the right fit, the right jewelry and of course the right shoes.  There were lots of meals spent with take-out and silence because there wasn't a Momma with a love for cooking hanging out in the kitchen and creating conversation at the dinner table.  I know what I bring to my household and I understand my value as a woman, a wife and a mother.  Sure.  If something tragic were to happen, he could manage.  He would gather himself together and raise our daughter to be an amazing woman.  But it wouldn't be better that way.  They need me.  Not just for hairbows, prom dresses and cooking but because of my lightness, my silliness, my compassion, my insight, my creativity, my direction and my ambition.  But above all of it?  They need my love.  My daughter needs me because God chose me to be her mother and raise her to be a wonderful Christian woman.  

In retrospect, I didn't see myself in the future because I wasn't existing in the present.  I was floating up and above my family, my body, my self.  I was so wrapped up in that damn fog.

But........right now?  I'm here.  I'm living in the moment and enjoying my daughter, my husband and even those crazy pups of mine.  I'm soaking in the sweet kisses, hugs and snuggles she freely doles out.  I giggle at her silly faces and expressions.  I relish in her creativity and curiosity.  I take pride in her independence and bravery.  I breathe deeply through her tantrums and tears, fits and foibles.  I have patience with myself and confidence in my abilities.  It's not always pretty raising a toddler, but I've found the groove the fits my family.

I didn't think it would get better.  Honestly.  I didn't.  I really thought that I would forever have a little black fog following me around as I navigated my way through her life.

I cried writing this post.  Sat on my bed with two precious pups next to me while Florence and the Machine sang on the stereo and tears rolled down my cheeks.  It's not the first time tears have fallen on my keyboard while writing about my journey through motherhood.  But it is the first time they are tears of joy.  Tears of relief.

Just One Little Question...

Most recently my daughter has become a pro at the "clear off the bookshelves and bring everything to Momma or Daddy" game and we play this nearly every evening.  Today was no different except the book that she brought me was something she had proudly held out for me to grab - it was a reflective book titled "Love Letters To My Baby" given to me by my dear friend Emily.  Throughout the book there are lots of questions and sentence starters that are to elicit thoughtful and insightful responses from the mother regarding her pregnancy and life shortly after the baby has been born.  Although I worked my way through most of the book as I flipped through the pages today, I noticed a question had been left blank.

In regards to the day that Natalie was born:

"Of all the emotions of the day, I mostly felt..."

There was no written response.

No glowing report of how I was instantly infatuated with the beauty of my child.  Nothing mentioning how I felt an immediate bond with my daughter.  There were no positive remarks about how my life was now complete after giving birth to such a perfect baby.

If I was to write down the first words that pop into my brain after reading that question....

Scared

Terrified

Numb

Anxious

Stressed

Detached

Disappointed

How can I write that down for her to someday read?  I have a hard enough time adequately conveying the dangerous and terrifying amount of turmoil that I went through after her birth.  How do I explain such a mysterious and confusing disease like Postpartum Depression?  Do I tell her that I didn't initially have that rush of love and affection?  How I didn't even feel like she was really my daughter? 

I have been doing really well lately - keeping body and soul to mind while still being present and active in my husband and daughter's lives.  But now I sit here with tears in my eyes because of an innocent question in a lovely book.

Because someday she will ask.  She will want to know the story of her birth and the impact she had on our lives.  Someday she will fall in love and have a baby and she will ask about my pregnancies and my deliveries.

And what will I say?  How will I explain my reaction to my daughter without making her feel like the cause of my turmoil?

I am most likely getting ahead of myself.  After all, the girl isn't even out of diapers yet.  

But the fact remains - no matter how much time goes by or how our relationship might evolve over time, my Postpartum Depression will remain a part of her birth story.  Like that one gray cloud that mars an otherwise crystal clear blue sky.  

I know that right now, at only fourteen months postpartum, I am still intimately close to the battle.  The past year and a half has been grueling and intense.  At times it all seemed hopeless because that light at the end of the tunnel was half a galaxy away.  

But as time ticks by, just as with the scars from my appendectomy on my belly or the one that decorates my elbow from the time I fell off the curb in college, the battle scar on my heart from the year after Natalie's birth will fade.  It won't be as noticeable nor will it flare up and ache as often.  It will become just another "war story" in just another chapter of my life.

Time will heal all my wounds, the ones that are visible and the ones that hide in my heart. 

And someday when Natalie is grown and a beautiful young woman with the prospect of children in her immediate future, I will tell her my story.  I will share with her my fears and my challenges.  About how I was so overcome with love for her that I wanted the absolute BEST for her....and then subsequently wound myself up into a pretzel trying to be the perfect mother.  I will weave in the lessons I learned about the true meaning of partnership, independence and humility.

After talking with Craig, maybe I'm making too big a deal out of that one tiny little question.  Maybe Natalie won't care all that much or take anything personal from my experiences.  Maybe she'll be completely different from me and wear an armor made of Teflon whereas I am coated in glue.  

Looking forward

I've written so many beginnings of blogs lately and each and every one seem so............forced and uninspiring.

Which is probably why they all have beginnings but no endings.

I guess it's just an average case of writer's block.  Or maybe it's just that life right now is pretty uninspiring. Not in a bad way..........but we're just existing - happily - but still.........just floating along.

Glennon Melton of Momastery reposted a blog awhile back about what depression is like and how she could always feel the fog creeping back in - and how she didn't always want to fight that fog because it helped her to become a better writer.  Aren't the best writers always the tortured ones?

I guess that's where I'm at right now.  No fog.  Just sunshine.  On the brightside there isn't anything gnawing at my soul making me feel the need to spill my guts on this little blog, but on the other hand, I'm not really producing anything of real substance.

But that's the theme for this year.

Just exist.

In the past three years Craig and I have bought a house, gotten engaged, married, become pregnant, had a baby and struggled through PPD.  Whew.

This year we're just going to enjoy watching Natalie grow, play with the pups and be a family.  No major life changes.  Just live.

I feel like my mood has turned a corner since Natalie hit her first birthday.  I feel free of the "baby" stage in her life.  She eats real food, is sleeping through the night and plays contentedly on her own.  There is less dependence on me to sustain her life and now more dependence on me to teach and guide her through her life.  That is what I'm good at - setting boundaries, playing games, redirecting, taking advantage of teachable moments......all stuff that I do as a teacher, I suppose.

I read an article today on Huffington Post giving parents hope about reaching the end of their child's first year of life.  About how the sleepless nights and the constant laundry will slowly fade.  The first year is tough - but not for the child.  It's not a milestone for the baby - it's an accomplishment for the parents.  Hurray!  You kept a human being alive for an entire year and for the most part - you're still standing.

Now, Craig and I weren't standing at her birthday party completely the same people that had welcomed a beautiful baby girl into our arms the year before.  No.  Things have changed.  Life has changed.  WE.  Have.  Changed.  Six months ago I never thought that I would find the girl that I used to be.  I never thought I would dance around the house to Jay-Z and Kanye again.  I never thought I would want to indulge in that second (or third) glass of wine when out to dinner with the hubs.  I never though that I would give a rat's ass about the cute clothes in my closet and the make-up in my drawers.  In short, I felt like I had to live such a controlled life in order to be the perfect mother that I thought that the girl my husband fell in love with (wild, crazy, passionate, determined, ambitious, goofy) was gone forever.

I mourned her death and hated the woman that took her place.

But that girl is like a weed - she has found a way to grow through in the most unlikely of places and she is slowly spreading across the desert like wildfire.  More and more everyday I feel HER presence.  I feel more at ease in my skin.  I can take deeper breaths.  Those deeper breaths lead to bigger laughs.  And then there's the dancing.  And a glass of wine............and then another glass if it's a special dinner.

So here I am standing at the beginning of the next year in Natalie's life.  I am determined to do the best job at being her mother that I can and that doesn't involve listening to anyone else's expectations on what I need to be.  Natalie doesn't worry about the global ramifications of the way that I parent her.  She doesn't worry that I'm doing it all wrong and she's going to suffer.  All she needs is hugs and kisses, cuddles and playtime, love and compassion, boundaries and expectations.  All she needs is everything that I already am.

No Light

First let me give a quick disclaimer before you read this post.

I AM OKAY.  CRAIG IS OKAY. 

WE ARE OKAY.

I've been sitting here working through my Bible Study homework for the week while listening to Florence and the Machine through my iTunes and there is one particular song with some very specific lyrics that have stopped me from being able to move on with my homework.

I had to write this image out of my head so that I can proceed.  This post isn't about what happened yesterday or last week - it's just a collection of conversations that Craig and I have had over the past year since Natalie was born, particularly when I was in a tough spot with the PPD last summer.

Okay.  Here we go.

"No Light, No Light"

Florence + the Machine

Off the Ceremonials album

Selected lyrics:

I was disappearing in plain sight
Heaven help me
I need to make it right
You want a revelation
You want to get right
But it's a conversation
I just can't have tonight

You want a revelation
Some kind of resolution
You are the revelation

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day

You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay

No light, no light
No light

Tell me what you want me to say
But would you leave me,
If I told you what I've done

And would you leave me
If I told you what I've become
'Cause it's so easy,
To sing it to a crowd
But it's so hard, my love
To say it to you, all alone

I just remember so many nights Craig and I had this very conversation.  He desperately wanted to know what was going through my brain and how he could help get it out and make it better.  But I was locked up.  I couldn't physically verbalize what was going on because I couldn't make sense of it in my own head.  And then there were the intrusive thoughts and visions that flitted their way into my consciousness.  No.  He could never know those things.  I was always so scared to say anything because I knew I would cry.  And if I started crying, there was a good chance that I would never, ever stop.  So I shut down and I got angry because for whatever reason, that was the only emotion that I could process.  The only one that felt safe.  If I lashed out my anger at everyone else then they wouldn't want to be near me and then they wouldn't figure out that I was a complete waste.  I didn't want to be near me.  I felt toxic - like I was polluting everything good and pure in my life, most of all my child and my husband.

It was an ugly place to live.

No.  Live isn't the right word.

It was an ugly place to exist.

We didn't LIVE during this time.  We were existing.  We were waking up in the morning, functioning through the day and going to bed at night.

That part in the song about leaving me if I told him what I'd done and what I'd become.  That was my biggest fear.  I knew I wasn't right, I knew that I wasn't giving him the life that he had signed up for.  I felt defective.  I felt that he deserved a proper wife and mother of his child.  I wanted him to be happy and I wasn't able to provide him any sort of happiness for a very long time.

There was a moment when we were giving Natalie a bath one night.  He was getting her out of the tub to dry her off and I ran into her bedroom for a nighttime diaper and her pajamas.  As I was walking through our bedroom to go back into the bedroom  I paused by the dresser, just out of sight of Craig and Natalie sitting on the floor by the tub.  I listened.  They were jabbering together.  They were happy.  And I wasn't there.  My breath caught in my throat and my heart raced.

They could live without me.  This is what it would be like if I wasn't here.  Happy.  Peaceful.  It would be better this way.

My thoughts went down the rabbit hole.  The two of them selling the house, living in a little condo with the pups.  Craig trying to figure out how to put her hair into a ponytail for her first basketball game.  Helping her pick out her prom dress, one that would make her look gorgeous.  Walking her down the aisle, whispering in her ear that he loved her.

And in none of these scenes was I present.  I wasn't dead, I just wasn't present.  Runaway maybe?

I was stuck in a place where I couldn't imagine climbing out of my dark hole and enjoying life with my family.  But despite the tears in my eyes and the rapid beating of my heart, I swallowed my anxiety and walked into the bathroom to rejoin my family.  I couldn't let him know what I had scene, what I had pictured.

But the whole year, I sorely underestimated him.  I also exhausted him, frustrated him, at times berated him, forced all my anger on him and pushed him away.

Oh my.  That was a tough thing to write.

But he stayed.  He put in the work to keep the home running and Natalie out of the way of my angry tornado.  He listened when I cried and forced me to get out of the house with my friends and have some fun.  He was patient, he was forgiving.......and forgiving........and forgiving.

He forgave me as the Lord forgives.  Instantaneously, without an apology and without expectation of receiving anything as compensation.  He saw through the anger I was spewing and looked at my heart and how broken I was.  He knows what to look for.  He's been broken too.

I am so thankful the Lord gave us one another to help with putting the pieces of each other back together.

December 2011

The next few posts I'm going to be linking up with Robin at Farewell Stranger who writes a beautifully personal PPD blog. She's doing a series of blog posts which look back at the wonderful moments of the past year despite struggling through motherhood and PPD. I'm doing this series along with her because I desperately want to remember the first year of Natalie's life as something positive and beautiful instead of full of pain, frustration, anger, anxiety and darkness.

HOLIDAY FUN

This is the month that I was looking forward to the most because it's the month of the year where I was most PRESENT with my family.  I had a massive revelation at the beginning of the month where I "woke up" and shook off the fog and found my strength.

When Natalie was first born everyone's first words about her always had to do something with the fact that she looked exactly like her father.  As she has grown up throughout the year, although in her eyes she is most definitely CRAIG, her facial expressions have grown to be more like mine - especially when she smiles....or is angry.  Ha.

And thus begins her love affair with Santa Claus.  Seriously.  She was enamoured.  Maybe it was the beard.....I don't know.  But she wouldn't take her eyes off of him.

In the month of December she definitely got more mobile and braver as she scooted around our house trying to test her boundaries and see what she could get into.  A box of diapers?  Go for it.

Christmas trees sure are magical, aren't they?  At my parent's house the Christmas tree was always in the front formal living room and I can remember being in awe of it as a small child. 

Eek!  Santa is coming soon and I'm wearing a tutu!  Life is so exciting when you're almost ten months old!!!  I love her excitement in this photo and I'm so glad you can't hear the crazy voices I was making to get her this wound up for a photograph.

On the first full day of our Christmas vacation Natalie and I met up with a very good friend and her two kiddos and we explored the Dallas Zoo together.  Although I'm sure Natalie had fun cruising in her stroller and gazing at the different animals, this trip was more fun for me and Beri because it gave us a much needed chance to hang out and catch up.

What good is having a little girl if you can't dress her up once in awhile and put an enormously PINK hairbow in her hair?  Seriously.  This kid lives in jeans, tennis shoes and hoodies most of the time.  I absolutely reserve the right to "girly" her up for special occasions like a ladies tea with my mother.

Speaking of which - here are the two most important women in my life with some of the women that laid the foundation for the tradition of strong women in my family.  These paintings are of my mother's grandmother and her sister.  My mother can remember them hanging in her grandmother and mother's homes and now they are in hers.  I can remember them in my grandmother and now my mother's home and someday they will reside in mine as well. 

Craig's favorite time of the day with Natalie is bedtime - he rocks her to sleep every single night (at least when he doesn't have basketball games) and it's their special time together.  Christmas Eve was no different.....with the addition of Twas the Night Before Christmas of course.

Riding her pony.  Our house is now overflowing with toys and it's been so fun watching her figure out how to "play" with all the wonderful things she was given for Christmas.

WHAT.  A.  YEAR.

I don't really even know what to say now that I haven't said before.  On most days....I enjoy my daughter and I enjoy being her mother.  I still have my moments of anxiety, frustration, anger, depression and all that other junk but the good news is that they're just that.  MOMENTS.  Not hours, not days, not weeks.  Just little blips on my radar.  Craig knows the signals....hell even ANGIE knows the signals and they do their best to take care of business so I can get through the moment in one piece. 

There you have it.  My year.  Now onto planning a very important first birthday party.  Holy cow.  Are we really already here?!

November 2011

The next few posts I'm going to be linking up with Robin at Farewell Stranger who writes a beautifully personal PPD blog. She's doing a series of blog posts which look back at the wonderful moments of the past year despite struggling through motherhood and PPD. I'm doing this series along with her because I desperately want to remember the first year of Natalie's life as something positive and beautiful instead of full of pain, frustration, anger, anxiety and darkness.

THANKFUL

Showing a little bit more of her personality.

Natalie's two older boy cousins sure do enjoy spending time with her - I have a feeling they will be teaching her all sorts of FUN things. 

My dad pushing Natalie on the refurbished Barbie Jeep he found for her.

Thanksgiving was rough.  It was stressful.  It was busy.  It was chaotic.  I was angry for the majority of the week.  That's all I remember from November.  That week was a major setback for me and I promised Craig that if things didn't get drastically better by the time the new year started then I would be rethinking my treatment options and looking into new methods of getting better.  I don't have much to say about this month except that I was pretty miserable.  There were good moments but more than anything, I was locked in that fog.

Deception

It is a gorgeous day outside.  One of those deceptively gorgeous winter days.  The kind where you look out and see a clear blue sky with sunlight filtering down and think to yourself "I should be out there, soaking up the warmth." 

Wrong.  It's freezing outside.  It's windy and the chill is biting. 

If it's going to be cold, I want it to be dreary.  I want it to be raining and dark so that I can curl up in bed with a puppy dog and apple cider while watching the never ending tragedies featured on the ID channel.

Not sure what happened throughout the night but I woke up on the proverbial wrong side of the bed this morning.  I feel like it should be cold, wet, cloudy and miserable outside because that's what the weather is inside my brain.  As I was walking through the school I glanced outside at the weather and I was actually disappointed to see the sun. 

Maybe it was Natalie's reccurent waking up last night.  There might have even been a slamming door in my house at 2:45 this morning.

Maybe it was nightmares that I don't quite remember except for a distinct emotion of anger and frustration.

Maybe it's the anxiety of a situation that is worrying me, frustrating me; a story whose facts have not been discussed and whose outcome is completely out of my control.

And then there's also that pesky matter of the gray strand of hair that my coworker pulled from my head......

But today I'm an Eeyore. I'm trying to keep my mouth shut and my head down so that the day will pass quickly and I can get to tomorrow.

***UPDATE***

Sure.  That past month and a half since I "woke up" and began to see more clearly has been amazing.  I've been in control of myself and have let go of things out of my control.  I've enjoyed my family, my friends and being Natalie's mother.  But today I can feel myself slipping back into that fog.  I can feel those insecurities creeping up the back of my neck and the tentacles grabbing a hold of my brain and digging their claws in deep.  Most days those mean, nasty thoughts are like annoying mosquitoes that are easily squashed or swatted away.  But today they are vicious.  They are huge.  And they are refusing to be squashed or swatted away. 

So this is where I'm at today.  Aching to be anywhere but in my own mind and body.  A little frustrated because I feel like today is one of those "two steps back" kind of days.

I guess my point is......the difference between now and two months ago is that hopefully today will be the anomaly, the different day, the exception to the rule.  Hopefully I'll be able to go home, relax, play some volleyball in my Wednesday night league and then get up feeling a bit more productive, positive and capable tomorrow morning.

October 2011

 The next few posts I'm going to be linking up with Robin at Farewell Stranger who writes a beautifully personal PPD blog. She's doing a series of blog posts which look back at the wonderful moments of the past year despite struggling through motherhood and PPD. I'm doing this series along with her because I desperately want to remember the first year of Natalie's life as something positive and beautiful instead of full of pain, frustration, anger, anxiety and darkness.

A month of Fall Fun!

One of the best things that Craig and I did during the month of October was take a full day off from work to go to the State Fair with Natalie.  It was so wonderful to have a relaxing day with our little family.

On a side note....it's amazing to see how much Natalie's hair has grown in just a few months!  It's coming in so dark - what a contrast with her bright, blue eyes!

This moment was one of those *classic* parenting moments.  She had played so hard all day at Ms. Rebecca's house and had refused to take any sort of nap while she was there.  That night Craig was downstairs with her in the bouncer while I was taking care of things upstairs.  He came up and told me to sneak downstairs slowly and quietly and this is the scene that I saw.  I couldn't help but giggle.  What a tired little girl.

Natalie was baptized during October and it was such a special service with all our closest friends and family members.

We've had a pretty mild autumn and winter this year and we took advantage of a great afternoon and took Natalie to the park to swing and look at the ducks.  I'll be honest - the sunglasses didn't last too long, but that's okay.....I got a picture of her in them and that's all that matters.

Oh Halloween.  Before the trick or treaters started I took Natalie and Angie out onto the front porch for some fun pictures but there was this kid across the street loudly bouncing a ball.  I absolutely love this picture of my two girls checking out the scene in their coordinating ladybug costumes.  And yes....believe it or not, my dog enjoys being dressed up.  She bounces off the walls when I pull her clothes (yes, plural) out of the closet for her to wear.

It's become a tradition with our friends the Mannings to celebrate Halloween together and this year was no different.  Well.....there were two big differences actually - Natalie and the Mannings youngest daughter Jacklyn who is ten weeks older than Natalie.  I love this picture because you can sense that they are communicating with each other.  Probably saying "why did our mothers put us in these stupid costumes and hoods."

October was better.  I was definitely on the upward swing of things despite lingering tension with some family members.  Craig and I were keeping my issues close at hand and not really sharing the struggles that we were going through.  There were only a few (I mean, literally like TWO) people in the world that knew what I was going through.  Although I had come to terms with the situation I wasn't quite ready for other people to know - I guess I was still somewhat ashamed about it all.  Not sure why....

September 2011

 The next few posts I'm going to be linking up with Robin at Farewell Stranger who writes a beautifully personal PPD blog.  She's doing a series of blog posts which look back at the wonderful moments of the past year despite struggling through motherhood and PPD.  I'm doing this series along with her because I desperately want to remember the first year of Natalie's life as something positive and beautiful instead of full of pain, frustration, anger, anxiety and darkness.

CRAWLING!

I didn't take a lot of pictures during the month of September because most of my time was spent trying to keep my head above water due to the craziness of volleyball season and mommyhood.  But this was the month that Natalie really started moving all on her own and she was always just interested in getting to one thing - SHOES.  Apparently she is my daughter after all.

Being a mommy and getting up to go to work every morning was hard somedays because I knew that it would be a long time until I saw her again, but being able to go to work and spend time with my awesome 8th grade volleyball players definitely made it worthwhile.  Other than that, I don't really remember September - it passed so quickly and was chock full of games, Open Houses and tournaments that it's all just a blur.

August 2011

The next few posts I'm going to be linking up with Robin at Farewell Stranger who writes a beautifully personal PPD blog.  She's doing a series of blog posts which look back at the wonderful moments of the past year despite struggling through motherhood and PPD.  I'm doing this series along with her because I desperately want to remember the first year of Natalie's life as something positive and beautiful instead of full of pain, frustration, anger, anxiety and darkness.

VEGAS BABY!

Craig and I absolutely love Vegas - it's where we go to relax.  Yes.  Relax.  We aren't the people trashed at the roulette table at 4:00 in the morning.  We spent the three days and two nights that we were there eating delicious dinners and getting pampered at the spa.  He might not seem like the type....but Craig loves getting massages.  Who knew?!  

Going out to dinner on the last night - my birthday present from Craig was getting my hair and make-up done professionally!

The view of the strip from our hotel room at the Encore.

Inside the Venetian along the shopping mall.

Oh hey there Matthew.

And a hello to you too Justin T.

Craig and his favorite athlete, the incomparable Michael Jordan.

Yeah right.  Nice try Craig.

OTHER STUFF HAPPENED TOO....

My middle brother Mike came and visited and spent time with Natalie.

Craig and I went back to school and Natalie went full-time to Ms. Rebecca's house during the day.

Natalie learned how to sit up on her own - this was such a relief because I could sit her down and give her toys to play with and that made for a much happier baby girl.

See?!  Playing with her dolls in bed.

My third nephew was born on August 22nd - Ian Andrew.  Here are my parents with all four of their grandchildren - Alexander, now 8; Ford, now almost 5; Natalie, now almost 10 months and Ian, now 4 months.

Playing on her four wheeler at Granddaddy and Nonna's house.

Sadly, I think that going back to work full-time helped me to feel more like myself and I was excited about seeing Natalie at the end of the day and I was absolutely a better mother to her in the evenings and on weekends.  There's a lot of disagreement behind some mothers that are firmly in the "stay at home with the children otherwise why did you even decide to have children if you're going to allow someone else to raise them" camp and those mothers that work because they have to for financial reasons ore even because *gasp* they enjoy their career.  I work for a little of both - Craig and I are definitely more financially stable on two incomes and I chose to become a teacher because I enjoy working with students.  I knew that I wasn't cut out for staying at home with Natalie full-time - it's just not how God made me.  For the longest time, I thought that because I wasn't "made" to stay home with her that he had made a mistake by even giving me a child to begin with.  But that's just not the case - God created me to be so much more than just one child's mother.  I am a friend, a sister, a wife, a mother, a daughter, a teacher, a coach, a co-worker....and most importantly, I'm ME.

July 2011

The next few posts I'm going to be linking up with Robin at Farewell Stranger who writes a beautifully personal PPD blog.  She's doing a series of blog posts which look back at the wonderful moments of the past year despite struggling through motherhood and PPD.  I'm doing this series along with her because I desperately want to remember the first year of Natalie's life as something positive and beautiful instead of full of pain, frustration, anger, anxiety and darkness.

A TOUGH MONTH

Natalie and her oldest cousin Alexander.  I love all three of my nephews, but there will always be a special spot in my heart for Alex.  I was around him a lot when he was a baby since I went to college in the same town where he, my brother and my sister-in-law lived.  He was the first person that I would really know for their whole life and I was just enamored with him.  Now as an eight year old in second grade, he is incredibly intelligent and such an amazing big cousin to Natalie.  He is gentle, nurturing and shows such love for her.  I can't believe that it's been eight years since I first held him when he was only a few hours old.

One of the weekends that Craig was away at the basketball tournament, I went and stayed the night at my parent's house.  This was partially due to the fact that I was terrified of being alone with Natalie for long periods of time - for whatever reason, I didn't trust myself to take care of her properly.  My parents and I went to church on Sunday and Natalie was of course a perfect angel and fell asleep mid-mass.  You can't see them here, but she is wearing shoes from when I was a baby.

Cuddling with Angie, Andy and Annabelle at my parent's house in the back bedroom.  Angie is such a good big sister to Natalie.  

First time eating rice cereal!  This was such a relief - I was obsessed all summer with the fact that Natalie wasn't sleeping through the night and I thought that it was because I wasn't feeding her enough.  I figured that if we fed her some rice cereal that it would fill up her belly and she (and we) would sleep through the night.  Unfortunately that wasn't the case but the good news is....Natalie is a great little eater.

After Craig came home from the tournament he wanted to buy something special for Natalie and we went and purchased her jumper.  It was so great to be able to place her in the jumper and then sit down at the dinner table the two of us and actually eat a proper meal without having to jump up and take care of the baby.  This little piece of plastic helped to save my sanity.

One of my all-time favorite photos of her.  Those big blue eyes with the slightest hint of a grin.

July was a tough month because it was the time in which I figured out that the grace period for having just the "baby blues" was over and that something more serious was going on inside my body.  I honestly believed that once school was out and Craig was home with me that I would feel better.  But I never did....at least not genuinely.  I would have great days but I didn't trust them - I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and for me to retreat back to my foggy island, which always happened.  One of the weekends that Craig was gone and I was home alone just so happened to be the time of my worst moments....I had such an emotional breakdown and he wasn't there.  He was up at the tournament and said he couldn't leave.  Still to this day, that's a point of contention between the two of us because in my mind, if I knew that the safety and well-being of my partner and child were at stake, I could leave a basketball tournament in the hands of my two business partners and come home.  I guess I'm still a little hurt at the fact that he "chose" basketball over me at the point when I needed him the most.  But then again, maybe it was for the best - I was forced to pick myself up off the ground (figuratively and literally) and figure out how to get through the evening.  This was the month that I finally accepted what was going on and I sought help through the guidance of a close friend of mine.  I guess July was a turning point - the point in time where I decided to fight back and try to crawl my way out of the deep hole I had dug for myself.

June 2011

The next few posts I'm going to be linking up with Robin at Farewell Stranger who writes a beautifully personal PPD blog.  She's doing a series of blog posts which look back at the wonderful moments of the past year despite struggling through motherhood and PPD.  I'm doing this series along with her because I desperately want to remember the first year of Natalie's life as something positive and beautiful instead of full of pain, frustration, anger, anxiety and darkness.

SUMMERTIME!

After the longest school year EVER, it was finally time for a much needed break from work.....but this time with help at home since Craig wouldn't be working either.

Craig was so excited to take Natalie to her first basketball camp (ran by his sister of course) and I was just excited to dress her up cute.  So what if I bought the Under Armour onesie in the boys department?  I dressed it up with a bow and her super awesome pink Converse.

This might be my favorite picture of Craig and Natalie to date.  He and I were just hanging out in our bedroom on the blanket with her.....just playing and interacting as a family.  I love the look on her face, like she's saying "Mom?  Is THIS the guy you chose to be my daddy?"  I love her little heart shaped chin and wide eyes.  She might have her Daddy's blue eyes, but she's already got her Momma's attitude.

Happy girl.  By June we were starting to see more and more of her personality with lots of little grins and almost giggles.  Even so young, she was shy at first with new people and didn't give up a grin easily.

Craig's first Father's Day.....the first Father's Day he's been able to celebrate in nine years.  I made sure that we made it all about him and Natalie and I even ran a special errand to get him the baseball cards that he really likes.  I love this moment - he is explaining the cards to her and she is just listening intently.  And those little toes just kill me!

One of my favorite things about having a daughter is definitely the clothes and the bows.  Craig and I received so many outfits throughout all our showers and she was completely set with clothes for the first six months of her life.  

And then there were these afternoons....lazy, warm, perfect for a nap....summertime afternoons.

June was easier because Craig was home more and I didn't feel as "trapped" in the house with her but a new feeling was sinking in - the perpetual feeling of "not good enough" that has plagued me since I was young.  I knew the type of precious gift I had been given and I just wanted to do everything perfectly for her so that I gave her the best start in life.  I take all the jobs in my life very seriously.....I guess it's that perfectionism that has made me somewhat successful.....but this job was the ultimate - I put so much pressure on myself to be the perfect mother, wife, daughter, daughter-in-law, friend, sister, teacher....everything.  It was so exhausting.