The Up Hill



The thing about depression is there is no black and white. No yes or no. It’s a journey. Some days the going is hard and other days just treading water is a success.

5 days shy of 8 months and I finally feel like things are on the up for me. You see, getting better does not really start at getting help. Some times it gets significantly worse after that. Getting help is like clawing at the sides of the hole you are in to slow down the rate at which you are falling. You are either going find something that saves you, or you’ll hit the bottom. And for some, that is the only time they are able to climb out.

For me, I did not quite get to the bottom. I am adult enough to know that things could have been far worse. For me, reaching out meant a small dose of medication, counseling and a ton of support from the people around me. I am not embarrassed about postpartum depression. I have a ton of friends that are pregnant. If they start having symptoms, they know exactly who to talk to.

My PPD was not a disconnect from my children. It was different. It was not even triggered by pregnancy and birth, but exasperated due to the hormone changes that go along with it. I’m depressed because I hate the way I look after these beautiful creations clawed their way out of me like Ace Ventura out of a rhino butt..


I am sad because I will never be 20 again. I will probably NEVER fit any of those jeans in the blue tote in my basement. And I will NEVER reach my fitness goal of wearing my old bras again either.. I have so many cute ones, this in itself is depressing. You can tell me I am ridiculous and to go easy on myself because I just had a baby. But when have you ever known me to go easy on myself? It’s one of my quirks and everyone secretly loves me for it. If I was not so hard on myself, people would not get paid, and my son would smell like farts. All.The.Time. So you are welcome for me holding myself to high standards.

Back to what I was saying. I am glad you think I am beautiful. My husband is still attracted to me after this transformation, but I am not attracted to me. Nope. I struggle with the state of things. I know how to fix them, but I have not been able to sleep because babe wakes up at least every two hours to nurse, I work full time and I solo parent a lot of the time.

And I have been so tired that I would cry when my alarm went off. It was bad.

This week has actually felt like I consistently kept my head above water. I was even faced with something that would have completely derailed me, but it did not. In the past and with everything I have been through, I thought I was pretty resilient, and I guess I still am. I did not stop fighting to be happy. I knew that if I was unhappy, my children would be effected. My marriage had already taken a huge hit. But I made it through. We made it through. I could not have done it with out them.

But you know what the big turning point was? Moving the baby to her own room and sleep training. I stopped nursing in the middle of the night. She protests adamantly in the beginning but no more than an hour of crying and falling asleep and crying again cycle. After one week, I am a brand new person. I could, and plan to, conquer the world. Now I can enjoy my coffee instead of survive on it. Maybe it is selfish of me not to want my baby close at night, and I have noticed that as I get older, I am less and less willing to compromise on things like sleep. Selfish? Fine. I will own that. But I am also getting back to a personal state of better health. Which is far more important to both of my children at this point.

So thank you darling. I know when you grow up and read what your mama wrote about you, you might not like it. But if we could help others by sharing our experiences, then I’d say we’re already a pretty darn good team.


via Daily Prompt: Better


Stretch Mom-strong


Who else? You? Your bestie? Your Sister? Who in your life is pulled in so many directions they are forgetting the most important thing of all… Themselves. This is me and where I live right now.

I honestly do not care if SAHMs or working moms have it rough… I am having it rough. Right now. And maybe you do to. Stop shaming other moms for having a tough time juggling their own impossible life. Stop comparing yourself to other mamas. We are all fighting our own battles. And some beat the ever living crap out of us.



Yeah, that’s me after my second surgery. But this is very much how I feel. Deflated, over worked, stretched thin, beat up and fat. I feel really fat. But you know, I’ll keep smiling even if it hurts to. Because sometimes that is what it takes to keep from dropping the ball. At the end of the day, I just feel defeated.


I don’t lay in bed at night thinking of all the ways I messed up or fell short because I am so freaking exhausted from giving far more than I had to begin with that I get to bed and wonder how I even made it there. How did I manage to get through the day? By some grace of God, I did not completely lose my shit and made it to a place that I should be safe to forget about everything… BUT NOOOOOOO…. Baby. I have to wake at every noise in case the milk she had an hour ago was not enough to hold her over long enough for me to actually fall back asleep.

Hello 2am, 4am, 5am, 6am, 630am. Good Morning Job and people and adulting. And as I pass people leaving for the night I beg them to take me with them.

“Oh no, you JUST got here.” Yeah. I know. I think the point of this post is that I am tired and so are you. And it’s okay. We will stand together in solidarity with our eyes closed and our mouths hanging open, maybe a little drool. Okay we’re asleep. Mama needs a nap. It’s only 8am.

Uncomfortable in my Skin

I didn’t get the skinny gene. Or the self control gene. Or the “I love to run” gene. I am capable of these things. But as I climb the ladder of mid 30’s, it becomes increasingly difficult. Not only has ,my metabolism taken a fatal blow, but my resolve to change has too. As I have aged, I seem to hold onto things that make me happy like a selfish child unwilling to share their toys. This is me and “happy foods”.

So today, is day 1. Which means yesterday was spend gorging myself on all the food I should not have in the house. There are a few things left. One box of Girl Scout Cookies, one piece of birthday cake, and a few pieces of candy here and there.

I went to the grocery store yesterday to buy all these whole foods, fruits and veggies. I found that I actually spend LESS money planning my meals than anticipating what I might be hungry for throughout the week. I spend far more on junk than I do when I plan to eat healthy and not deviate from my plans. I hope to use this as a selling point to my mister who HATES having to curb our established menus.

Yesterday I meal prepped for myself. I should have done it for my mister. He is being a really good sport at humoring me, but I know that this whole process is not easy. I also see how everyday we are becoming Leslie Mann and Paul Rudd on This Is 40. I can hear myself yelling at him about eating a cupcake while I sneak cigarettes by the trash can. He completes me, but he also drives me completely insane. I know I can’t do this world without him. That’s why I am glad he agreed to eat healthy with me.

So last night, before I ate my final piece of chocolate cake, I had him take my “before” pictures. I have been through this before, so I was not devastated but extremely unhappy at the state of things. Now that Little Miss is five months, it is time to look like myself again and for good. I am done having kids and will never look like this again.

I’ll try to update my progress on Mondays, but if you don’t hear about it anymore, please don’t ask. You have permission to draw your own conclusion.