Still the Bridge Builder's Wife

 Hi friends!

I have been away for a while. It has been an adventure. Last time I wrote on this blog, I was up to my chin in the toddler years. Wandering around my house from one mess to another, embracing little baby cheeks and just trying to make it to bed time. 

The last 5 years, God has brought me on a journey. It has been full of joy and trials and like every journey, it has cost me something. I went from a stay-at-home mom, to a small-business owner, to managing multiple branches of that business and now working on the corporate end of that company. I even had a brief stint as an "influencer,"giving hours of my life to try-on's, affiliate links, and posts that I hoped would connect. 

It was a little bit of whip-lash to go from staying home to working 50-60 hours a week. It is amazing the way that my husband and I shifted into new roles. We had to grow quickly in our marriage and as people. Our life is completely different in one thousand ways than it was the last time I wrote here. 

I gave up my peace and in many ways gave up things I loved most to chase success. Many of my months the last 5 years were so busy and I stared at my husband through tears saying, "I can't do this, I can't live at this pace."But then I would go faster, trying to outrun all the things I thought were holding me back. 

The best part about it all is that I've found a way through it, and I am still me. God has been so kind to me and merciful to remind me over and over again the things that make a life. Friendships with vulnerability. My feet in the grass (they call it grounding!). The sun on my face. A good book in my lap. The weight of my children. 

God kept me close to my marriage and my children when every distraction pulled me away. He brought me back to Him when I tried to make a life that centered around myself. In His grace, He reminded me that the truest things are still true. 

This July, I received a great gift: a pause. A month off from my corporate job, which led to me taking a month off social media and giving a month to my family. A chance to heal a bit from some health things, rest my brain and body, and seek renewal in more ways than one.

So I am writing a little, laying in bed a lot. As an optimist, I started my sabbatical with a new puppy- how fun will that be! Beverly is eating a book as I write this and everyone is okay with that. Through lots of doctor appointments and IV treatments and lots of learning about my body, I am finding room for margin. It has been a joy to live and not rush, to lose the rush of my heart in my chest as I log in from one meeting to the next. To lose my phone and have my computers both dead. 

I will write a few more updates this month and can't wait to share how I have found light and my way home on a bumpy, sometimes dark road. Here I am, I can't wait to hear where you have been, too. 

15 Minutes

When I was pregnant with my first child, Emmy, I was set on having a natural childbirth, without drugs.

How fun! What a great idea.

I had wonderful books and support given to me throughout my pregnancy, from my friend Erica, from another who is a midwife, and my mom's bestie, a doula. None of these ladies were with me during the actual childbirth but their advice made my first labor and delivery one of those surreal, amazing experiences making that the FIRST and LAST time in my life that my hopes and expectations lined up!

One of the many, many, MANY pieces of advice I learned during that first pregnancy was from another mom at church who had just had a baby. She said that if you want to have a drugless childbirth, every time you want the epidural, just wait 15 minutes.

She pointed out that as your pain throughout labor increases, your body struggles to manage that pain. Those are the unbearable moments. But as you endure through the pain, your body learns to cope with it. So every time I wanted that epidural, I looked at the clock and said, okay, I will wait 15 minutes and see if my body copes.

And it did. Every time.

I loved that labor, the elation I felt when I held that baby was incredible and my body felt oddly terrific. None of these things happened with my next three births, but that one was this sweet memory to me of how sometimes in life, everything goes well. I walked into the hospital that morning and had a nurse who was supportive and encouraging about drugless childbirth, my labor went quickly, it was all remarkable.

I have some crazy stories on how the next three labors were NOTHING LIKE THIS ONE and with my fourth, Charlie, I was sobbing, hunched over clinging to the hospital bed and waiting the longest THREE MINUTES OF MY LIFE for the anesthesiologist to arrive. So please don't hear me say that I am superwoman or that I am pro drugless childbirth because duh, a thousand little things happen to make labor and delivery not go as we hope and plan.

Such is life.

This morning I woke up at 3:30 am to a little voice crying out from their room. I ignored it a few times because I knew if I actually got out of bed, it was game over, no more sleep for me, but after a few minutes it was clear this person needed their Mama. I went in expecting a wet bed or a need for cough medicine.

Nope, just a declaration: "my penis hurts."

Um, okay, there is nothing I can do to help you. Here is your blanket. See you in 4 hours.

I couldn't go back to sleep as all the anxieties and worries about parenting, work, Christmas, friendships, worries about people I know who are struggling assailed me. Thankfully I know where to go, and I came downstairs with my Bible and a cup of coffee.

I was reminded once again, as I always, always am in these moments, that when life is hard and overwhelming, just wait. I prayed and asked God to help increase my capacity to handle the hard things of life. They're not going away. So how do I endure? He can give me what I need to feel peace and joy in the midst of ALL things.

It doesn't mean to take on more than you can carry, it just means that when the load gets so heavy that you feel like you can't move another inch, there is a place for you to lay it down and rest.

"Come to me, all ye who are weary and heavy laden..."

Sigh, how weary are you? Are you burdened this December? There is a place to rest. A quiet place to find hope.

I remember the days when the kids were smaller, like a minute ago, and I spent most of my day inside moving from one minor catastrophe to the next. My entire day was spent feeding people, wiping their crumbs, wiping their bottoms, moving piles of messes from one room to the next, drinking coffee, and... watching the clock. As little disasters erupted throughout the house, there were times I felt so lonely and overwhelmed. Do you know what practical thing I did, several times a day?

I looked at the clock. When I was making dinner in a room piled with dishes and one child holding my leg and one child on my hip and two children in the next room fighting, I looked at the clock. And I thought to myself: "Okay, this feels REALLY hard right now. I don't think I can do this. But I will wait 15 minutes and see if things get better." Sometimes I said aloud: "God I FEEL like I cannot do this. But all I need to do is stay present in this moment and love these people. Please help me."

Now I definitely had children that could throw tantrums a LOT longer than 15 minutes -- do you know that every day when my youngest son Charlie wakes up from his nap, he cries for an hour and a half? Every day! He still does it! Is it a weird red-head thing? I don't know! I had giant spills on the kitchen floor that took me longer than 15 minutes to clean up-- like the time Archer dumped out 3 lbs of jasmine rice-- some days it just felt like I watched that clock alllll dayyyyy lonnnnggg until 7 or 8 at night when Michal came home.

But for real, moms of little kids or people who feel like you can't get through whatever season you're in, put on your favorite song, light a candle, phone a friend, make a cup of coffee, you know what to do. My strongest seasons of faith haven't been the ones where I saw amazing change, or miracles, or easy, free living. They best ones have been the ones where I am sitting there, watching the clock. Watching Heaven, waiting for an answer and often, not hearing much of anything.

There are seasons where all I can do is sit on the couch, look at the ceiling and say: I am in pain, I am suffering, where are You and what will You do here?

The answer comes eventually, as it always, always does. One time it took 11 months! 11 months of waiting and asking God for hope and peace when I felt none. But that is not long compared to the years and lifetimes that I know others have had to wait.

Sometimes it's 15 minutes, sometimes it's your life on Earth, but if you wait, He will give you what you need. He knows you better than anyone, loves you best of all, and he has what you need. Look at the clock and hang in there, dear friend.

"But as struggle increased, Grace abounded more and more" -Romans 5:20

"I remember my bitterness and my suffering, but this I call to mind, therefore I have hope. Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for His compassion never fails" -Lamentations 3

"He is before ALL things and IN HIM ALL THINGS HOLD TOGETHER" -Colossians 1:17

"The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you. He will rejoice over you with singing. He will quiet you with His love" -Zephaniah 3:17

"Come to ME, all who are weary and burdened... and I will give you rest." Jesus, Matthew 11:28

My Experiences with Postpartum Depression

Okay let me begin by saying the obvious-- I am not a mental health professional. I have a degree in psychology that is shaky at best and would say it's a miracle I graduated college with the grades and lack of enthusiasm I had towards my major. I am just an average mama, sharing her experience with a struggle many, many women have. The things I've walked through are specific to my story and the things that have helped me are specific to my body chemistry and wiring.

In my opinion, postpartum depression has always been an obvious affect of motherhood in the infancy years because-

A. You are so tired

B. It is a major life transition with lots of unexpected hardships

C. Your hormones are crazy

D. Motherhood can be incredibly isolating

E. You are so tired! (worth saying twice, because having babies = no sleep!)

So I've always thought, duh! What doctors call "Postpartum Depression" is really just the affect that having a baby has on your life.

Boy was I wrong. Yes there is the normal exhaustion that accompanies these precious newborns but postpartum depression is something more.

Six weeks after Emmy was born I can remember sobbing and screaming at Mike because he went to play hockey with his friends. Something I had told him I was fine with beforehand. But while he was out, Emmy cried and cried and I seriously freaked out. I called him in a rage, yelling, "What is this? The 1950's? Why on Earth am I home holding this baby while you're out with your friends? I can't believe I married the most selfish person on the planet!"

I was a lot of fun to be around that year.

My mental health after with Mack was born was a little worse, I constantly felt overwhelmed but I attributed my tears and anxiety to the stress of having two small children.

However after having Archer, something was different. I cried, A LOT, over small, insignificant things I do not cry over usually. I also felt an abnormal amount of shame and guilt. Now I'm the first to say that I'm not a perfect mom! But I do not "wallow" in my imperfections, spending chunks of time mentally beating myself up for my shortcomings. I try to see my failures as a natural part of parenting and trust God to give my kids what they really need when I fall short.

But 5-6 months after I had Archer, a fleeting thought started coming into my brain. At first it was once a month, then I started thinking it once a week. Then it became once a day. And the thought was, "I am such a bad mom, my kids would be better off without me. I am such a bad wife, my husband would be better off without me."

This really scared me. Even though I am surrounded by people who encourage me and tell me I'm a great mom, these thoughts kept running through my head. My kids and husband seem to adore me (like 75% of the time) I am not prone to self-loathing, so I knew something was terribly wrong.

I googled the symptoms for postpartum depression and saw, "feelings of guilt and shame" at the top of the list. One of the ways I could also tell something was wrong was that Archer was sleeping more, pretty much through the night most nights yet I felt unusually tired. Things that wouldn't normally upset me made me want to lay under the covers and cry. I missed a friend's wedding and cried for days. I got snappy with a family member and said something I later regretted. I couldn't rebound from relational issues and stewed over every little thing. I constantly felt on edge.

Overall, I felt terribly trapped by my children and surroundings. I felt faraway from the person I used to be (jokingly referring to myself "as a shell of the woman I once was" to my husband). I felt isolated and misunderstood. I felt like I would never be able to enjoy things again. I felt unable to handle my life and constantly like I didn't have a capacity to take on the daily things I had to engage in for basic survival.

Then when my son was six months old, I got pregnant again.

Ha! But thankfully I also started to seek help. I found a wonderful Christian counselor in our area, and GET THIS, the receptionist offered to watch my kids in the waiting room during my session. Other times I relied on my neighbors or paid a sitter to watch my kids so I could go. It was a commitment and an investment, but it made a huge difference in my life.

The BIGGEST thing that started to help me feel relief was telling a few people that I was struggling. I mean, I thought it had been obvious. Especially to my husband. But I forget how much I internalize things and a lot can go unnoticed when you have three small children running around. So one night I told Michal alllll the things I had been thinking. The sadness I felt laying around me like a heavy blanket. The anxiety I felt over my children's safety that made my heart and thoughts race at night (I was starting to not even want to get in the car some days out of fear we'd be in an accident). The feelings that maybe my family would be better with a more capable mom- a bonus if she was better looking because I just couldn't shed that 3rd baby weight (crazy thoughts, I know).

And trickiest of all-- I shared with him the feeling that I was carrying these burdens alone, isolated with my runaway thoughts and the emotions I felt unable to keep in check. A couple of times I forced myself to say aloud the words: "I am depressed" aloud to a few friends-- mostly over the phone because that is my reality these days-- and it is amazing the power of confession. It can be so healing for the soul.

I didn't instantly feel better, there were a lot of ups and downs. A major downer was when my midwife told me that postpartum depression typically gets worse with each child you have. I cried for a long time when I found that out. But the counselor I saw really understood me and was able to give me a few suggestions that helped me based on my personality. And I'm trying not to have this post all wrapped up in a nice tidy bow-- because mental health issues rarely end that way-- but I can say my mental recovery from having Charlie was better than any of my previous three experiences.

I hesitate to share these, because everyone needs different things and everyone's personally and body are wired so differently, but these are a few small things that helped me significantly--

Plan something to look forward to every month after baby is born-- I love hosting people and I love traveling. Before Charlie was born, I had scheduled a visitor or a special outing every month. It helped break up the routine of taking care of a newborn. If that is overwhelming to you, don't do it! Only put on the schedule things and people that you KNOW will be refreshing to you and not draining. This is a season of life where you can't do things out of guilt or obligation, you need to put yourself first.

Taking my vitamins-- My midwife group encouraged me to start some anxiety/depression mediations while pregnant. I am DEFINITELY, DEFINITELY pro medicine. In my case, I tried a high dose of vitamins recommended to me by my midwife and counselor and didn't need the medication. If my symptoms continued or got worse, I was all ready to start something that would specifically target the places in my brain that needed help.

Regular commitments-- I joined a Bible study that met on Saturday mornings. I opened up to these women about my struggle and they really rallied around me. Once Charlie was born, it was harder for me to get there but just knowing these women were praying for me gave me a lot of encouragement. Some women need to pause their schedule after a baby is born but I've learned that I need a few scheduled things to get me out of the house.

Exercise-- even just short little walks helped me. We joined a YMCA and I went for a month or two but of course we paid for it for like twenty! Sometimes I would youtube a quick yoga video. Whatever, but the benefits of exercise makes a big difference for a lot of people.

I hope that if you get postpartum depression, you have people to talk to about it. You can always e-mail me. Now that Charlie is 20 months old, I feel like I'm coming out of a fog. My kids can all play together for big chunks of time. People are coloring on the walls a little bit less. It no longer stresses me out to run errands or even go out to eat with all four kids.

I have so much hope for you, friend.

There is no shadow God cannot light up: and even though some of us shoulder these mental health burdens throughout our lives, we can help one another carry them.

God is with you in Every Season

The first night we moved into this house, I could barely sleep. Looking out our window into the July night, I saw hundreds of fireflies flickering in the forest. I could hear a far off train whistle blow. Instantly the verse came into my mind, "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places... I will praise the Lord... even at night, my heart instructs me."

Our house on one of MANY snowy days!

This house in the woods holds many sweet memories

Living in a small town has rebuilt our family's foundation. For the first time in five years, Mike came home every night. Not being close to amenities or family gave our family one option in our free time: each other. We brought home two beautiful baby boys.

But these years have also broken my heart in the best of ways. I have never experienced depression or loneliness the way I did in this home in the woods. I cried in every corner of this sweet house. A hundred times I told Michal, "I don't feel like myself. I feel lost here. I wish I had friends."

I have never been one to choose a word of the year (this is a thing. I promise. Other Christians do it). But in 2017 I chose the word "hope" to be something I focused on in my prayer times. That entire year, hope felt like the furthest thing in the world. I studied it, I asked God to give me more of it, but I did not feel it. I felt stuck, like our life here would not change.

I feel bad complaining about these things because I know that most people have more difficult circumstances than me. My family is together. My kids are healthy. Our home is safe. But loneliness is a sickness of the heart and it affected me in a deep way. 

So after 11 months of praying for hope, I felt none. And in November I can remember having the daily thought, "I hate my life."  My mind was a steady soundtrack of negativity and hopelessness.

I have a wonderful counselor I started meeting with when I had postpartum depression after Archer was born. Talking to her and Michal about these thoughts helped me immensely. There is no magic formula, but suddenly, hope broke my hard heart. December 2017 our circumstances were the same but I felt so much hope for the first time in years. I began to understand that God IS hope. Peter calls Jesus "the living hope" and I can honestly say that this Spring I have been experiencing that on a daily basis.

We are moving this week and ironically I have made so many friends in this town the past few months. New neighbors have moved in and I've connected with parents of my kids' friends. It took us hours and lots of tears as we drove around saying good-bye to people that have showed up for my family in a hundred different ways.

This season has had a full-circle completeness about it. There was so much joy in the midst of suffering. Light broke through my little darkness. Just like it always does.

If you are struggling, keep moving forward. If there is darkness in your life, choose the things that turn on the light. If you are hopeless, there is only one place deep, abiding hope is found. Read the bible. Ask God to show you true hope. I just cannot imagine life without it.

I know that a change of circumstances will not bring me endless joy or peace. It is great that God is providing our family a fresh start in Des Moines but it's not going to fix all our problems. In this world, we will have trouble. That's an actual promise from God, too.

The lessons God taught me in this season have changed my heart in deep lasting ways. I will remember every little way God showed up for me. My faith is deeper because of the years it wavered. My hope is stronger because it felt absent for so long.

This morning the boxes are packed and the movers are coming in a few hours. There is not enough coffee in the world to get me through this day! Archer only has one shoe and I can't find my wedding rings. Where would I have packed them? WHY would I have packed them? Boo!

Instead of emptying out my fridge, I am sitting here shedding a few tears for my friends who are suffering. I am praying for them and that a little light breaks through their darkness like it did for me. There is so much pain and loss in this world. In my short, wobbly, life experience, I can say of the best things, "I learned it in the night."

"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." -Sarah Williams

"Weeping may last through the night but joy comes in the morning" -Psalm 30:5

"I have been deprived of peace;
I have forgotten what prosperity is.
So I say, 'My splendor is gone
and all that I had hoped from the Lord.

I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.

Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord's great love
we are not consumed.
For His compassions NEVER fail.
They are new every morning;
great is YOUR faithfulness.
I say to myself, 'The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for Him.

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him,
to the one who seeks Him."
-Lamentations 3:20-26

It was the Best of Times, It was the Worst of Times: What my husband doesn't know about Motherhood

So a few months ago, Mike and I bought these awesome electric toothbrushes we kept seeing at Costco, we love them and they have fulfilled all their teeth whitening, plaque erasing promises. Except unlike normal toothbrushes you have to actually replace the brush heads every 3 months. We noticed they weren't working as well, so Mike began reminding me to buy more. At least 5 Costco trips have come and gone and we still do not have the brush-heads. My hygenic husband is getting annoyed with me but I do all the shopping so he's at the mercy of my super-spotty memory.

Yesterday around noon, I went into the bathroom and saw that his toothbrush was black. Like either one of the kids brushed their teeth with chocolate in their mouth, it had a run-in with some potting soil, or (most likely) someone used it to wipe their butt. I noticed... but then a zillion other things happened and I forgot-- until Mike came home, went to blow his nose, and totally freaked out.

I already felt on edge, because #lifewithfourkids but at first gave him the benefit of the doubt because hey, if we're entitled to anything in this world it's a poop-free toothbrush. However, after hearing again...and again, then realizing he never said "thank you" for dinner or complimented me on our clean-ish house, the whole situation began to get under my skin.

And after a few minutes, I was full on fuming. In my mind a slideshow played of all the crap I had put up with so far this week.

Let's start with Mack, the best behaved kid.

Monday I gave him an impromptu haircut: "Mom, I just wanted to see if the gum would stick to my forehead!" Tuesday I caught him peeing on Archie's Little Tikes car in the backyard: "But you said I could pee outside!"

Archer. I could tell a thousand tales...
Wednesday I found him with the box of tampons I had just bought the night before (rushing to the drugstore right before it closed, during the witching hour with 4 cranky kids in tow!) dipping them into the toilet one at a time and licking the toilet water off the plastic wrapping like they were popsicles, the big kids were super confused why I was in the shower with my clothes on, scrubbing Archer from head to toe!

I had a good cry Thursday morning because I had lost my temper with the kids immediately after we talked about our verse for the day: "Love is patient and kind," so glad I can give them a great example of the OPPOSITE of love.

These are just a few *bonus* moments on top of the daily rhythms of housework, instructing, playing, cooking, driving, ecetera... and let's not even mention all the wonky health issues we've had the last month.

A lot of times when Mike gets home and says, "Honey how was your day?" I respond with a simple, "yeah." Or sometimes if it was really bad, I'll just say, "Ummmm...." It is our code for the fact that my days can no longer be summed up in a few simple phrases. In this house, with these people, and it being the heightened intensity that is SUMMER with all 4 little people home all day, every day, words can not often describe the roller coaster I am on for the next 18 years and all the mamas said, Amen.

So although I wanted to FREAK OUT on Mike for being critical about the toothbrush incident, because seriously-- stop complaining, rub some bleach on that thing and move on to the next catastrophe, I had to stop and realize there is just so much about my life he will not understand. He might get frustrated that my "negligence" led to Archer escaping into the bathroom and doing who knows what with Daddy's toothbrush, but what he doesn't know is that that ish happens all day every day, there just aren't enough stains around here to notice (or in my case, I am married to an unobservant man who doesn't always notice the dings in the walls, the fact that we have 2 plates left from a wedding gifted set of 12, avoids the laundry room, and has no idea the amount of crap piled up on my side of the bed).

On my more dramatic days I walk around saying things in my head like "I've died a thousand deaths today" which is probably something I read in an Emily Bronte books back when reading was an actual thing for me. On easier days I just roll my eyes at everything and drink coffee as I hustle about, saving everyone's lives a dozen different ways and tracking their bowel movements.

My husband is my all-time parenting lifeline. There is no way I could survive without Michal's support. He is the actual BEST person I could have ever married-- encouraging me when I have my head in the sand, telling me I'm a great mom when the voice in my head says otherwise, and helping me to function like a real-life grown-up. When he gets home from work, he is there beside me washing dishes, handing out bandaids, rescuing Charlie from being the landing pad from Archer's superhero leaps off the couch. Like all good husbands, he shares my load when he's home by his physical presence and when he's away by praying for us and fighting to stay emotionally connected.

But he also really has no idea what it's like to be the default parent, the one handing out rations of soda crackers and ginger ale by day and then cleaning up their puke covered sheets by night. So really, the toothbrush is the least of my worries especially since he hasn't seen what the boys did last week with a permanent marker in the loft!

A few days ago it felt like I was walking on sand. I couldn't figure out the source of  this awesome new texture on my floor until I saw this empty 5 lb container of sugar sitting on my counter. 

This is just something we will always "agree to disagree" on. It used to be my mission to make Mike understand what being a stay-at-home mom is like. But just like I can't understand what it's like to work in the blazing heat all day, pouring concrete and moving bulldozers around, he will never understand what it's like to take four kids to the pediatrician for a check-up.

There is a huge population of people who totally get me-- other moms! We are all doing our best, poopy toothbrushes and all. If you're husband doesn't understand you, I promise to. I might even have just locked my kids outside and told them to check the garage deep freeze for a snack if they get hungry. I'm pretty sure there is just raw meat in it but if they're lucky they'll find a frozen pizza or half an old popsicle to hold them over.

Cheers to surviving summer!