I pray for you.
I want to be writing about giant joy bubbles that burst with mushy gushy infatuation.
I want to be writing about lazy days filled with quiet cuddles and precious new coos.
I want to be writing about dreamy moments of simple motherhood.
While there very much have been bubbles, coos, and moments, most of the string of days post partum have been littered with panic and dread.
I feel guilty for even writing that.
However, I need to speak my truth to give a voice to those that cannot form the words to describe the terror inside.
So. This is for you new mom.
To the new moms who carry guilt for not savoring each morsel of motherhood, or even more, fearfully dislike the doldrums of this new life – I pray for you.
To the new moms who are plagued with irrational fears – fears that you will somehow lose control and harm the children that you love more intensely than you knew possible – I pray for you.
To the new moms whose minds become foggy and melancholy courses through your veins – I pray for you.
To the new moms that frantically search the internet, certain that something is intensely wrong, and you are going insane – I pray for you.
To the new mom who weeps – ashamed, lonely, and isolated – I pray for you.
To the new mom who questions her value and her worthiness of motherhood – I pray for you.
I storm the heavens for you because I intimately know the torment you are experiencing.
I am so sorry.
I love you.
I pray for you.
I’m struggling to know what else to write or say that wouldn’t be somewhat hypocritical. While you are in the throws of postpartum depression, anxiety, or OCD, it’s difficult to encourage someone to hang on and assure them that this indeed will get better because truth be told in most moments I cannot even fathom a world where this torture relents.
So this is an open letter both to myself, and the new moms.
Hang on tight. It’s a wild ride, but YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I’m here, even if no one else is.
You are not a bad mother – your brain and body are just struggling to interpret these raging hormones and emotions.
You will not harm anyone. It doesn’t matter how gripping, petrifying, and real the intrusive, irrational fears may seem. Feelings aren’t facts. Thoughts aren’t truths.
It’s ok to not enjoy each moment of motherhood. No one enjoys each aspect of any job, and motherhood is one giant job – so giant in fact it often knocks us to our knees and makes us question everything.
You are not crazy – you are just tired and need a snack. And maybe someone to hold your hand and scratch your back.
Those who have never experienced any form of mental illness or distress can’t understand simply because their brains work and interpret things differently. When reaching out to others – keep this in mind and pile all the grace you can on top of yourself.
Go out and get help. Shout it from the rooftops if you have to. If you don’t know where to start – message me.
If this reads melodramatic – you have not experienced this agony. Take a moment to pause and praise God .
I love you sister. I pray for you.
God provides every time – even in the darkness.