so i absolutely love the band "casting crowns"...they have wonderfully profound worship songs...and one of the ones off their first album has really been hitting home with me and convicting me lately..."american dream"
All work and no play may have made Jack a dull boy
But all work and no God has left Jack with a lost soul
But he's moving on full steam
He's chasing the American Dream
And he's gonna give his family the finer things
Not this time son, I've no time to waste
Maybe tomorrow we'll have time to play
And then he slips into his new BMW
And drives farther and farther and farther away
So he works all day and tries to sleep at night
He says things will get better;
better in time
And he works and he builds with his own two hands
And he pours all he has into a castle made with sand
But the wind and the rain are comin' crashing in
Time will tell just how long his kingdom stands
His kingdom stands
His American dream is beginning to seem
More and more like a nightmare
With each passing day
"Daddy, can you come to my game?"
"Oh baby, please don't work late."
Another wasted weekend
And they are slipping away
'Cause he works all day and lies awake at night
He tells them things will get better
It'll just take a little more time
He used to say, "whoever dies with the most toys wins"
But if he loses his soul, what has he gained in the end?
I'll take a shack on the rock
Over a castle in the sand
Now he works all day and cries alone at night
Its not getting any better
Looks like he's running out of time
'Cause he worked and he built with his own two hands
And he poured all he had in a castle made with sand
But the wind and the rain are coming crashing in
Time will tell just how long his kingdom stands
His kingdom stands
All they really wanted was you
All they really wanted was you
All they really wanted was you
This has just been resonating and beating down on me whenever i listen to it lately...i am constantly trying to just do my own thing during the day, and finding myself having the whole day go by without ever really "playing" with my family...i get caught up in the busy-ness of life constantly, but am not good at time management, so i end up getting overwhelmed and trying to do it all on my own and then let everyone down including myself, and worst of all, my family. I also have a problem with accumulating stuff, especially for the kids...i am a toy saver - as in, i cant bear to hear of or see a toy get thrown away...especially vintage toys from my childhood era. so we now have more toys in the house than my two kids can play with...and hearing this song, i end up seeing myself as the man in it...especially when i'm out thrifting with the kids and they are getting impatient and wanting to go home and play, and i'm telling them "later...mommies looking for stuff"...why am i doing this, when as the last lyrics say "all they really wanted was you"...
i really need to look to God for my guide in the world of parenting and time management...and also with my shopping addiction...i have been feeling convicted lately of still rescuing toys, but instead of keeping them all for my kids, i am going to start cleaning them up and selling them and/or giving them away. i also realized how crazy it was today that i am stressing about what to buy willow for her first birthday when she already has so many toys waiting to be played with that i saved from peyton...i think i will just wrap up one of those for her.
i also need to make an effort to just play with the kids more...i need to be there for them more often when they say " play with me mommy"...why is that so hard for me? i need to trust God that i will get everything accomplished that i need to if i take time for my kids, and that i will still have energy left for myself and my husband if i can just trust God first.
i also really need to cound my blessings more than i do and realize that i am living the "American dream"...it might not be perfect, but what is? God has blessed me beyond belief and i need to not be greedy and stingy and give back to Him by being the mom/wife/woman He created me to be.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
nostalgia and learning about the beginning...
so today i talked to my birthmom, linda for the first time...she found me and my parents and called them first to make sure that i knew i was adopted...then my parents called me and i called linda.
over the years i had known bits and pieces about my birthmom...i knew she was a teenager when she had me, and that she had kept me for a little while, and visited me a couple of time while i was with my foster parents.
today i learned that she turned 18 two months after i was born. my birthfather apparently wanted linda to abort me, but she lied to him and said that she was too far along. i was 10 days late in coming, and she went into labor because she slipped on the ice and fell on her bottom. she was in labor for 10 hours overnight with me, and her only wish regarding labor before that was that i wouldnt disrupt her sleep...guess i was a trouble maker from early on! lol apparently one of linda's sisters had a baby girl 2 years after i was born, and asked if she could name her angela after me...linda said yes, she would be honored. apparently i resemble this cousin of mine very much (they found my pic on facebook). linda chose not to have any other children as she didn't think it would be fair to give up one child and keep others. i lived for over a month as a baby in a tent in her friend's backyard. i am apparently 1/4 native american!!! who would have guessed? lol all in all it was an awesome conversation, but hard to try to sum up 32 years in just 40 mins...i am looking forward to us meeting on saturday for the first time, and pray that this will be a wonderful experience for both of us, and a life long friendship can form.
my mom came over with some of my childhood photos and mementos today...i had fun looking through them, and jeff got a kick out of seeing pics of me as a little kid...and we were shocked at the fact that i got my "eye" teeth before getting my top front teeth...just like willow!!! crazy!
my mom saved just about everything i ever did in kindergarten, 1st and 2nd grade...then lots of stuff thereafter too. it was fun to see all this stuff and read things i wrote, and comments my teachers made. but the most priceless things in there were two small notebooks.
the first notebook i found was a dayplanner that my mom kept when i was about 3 1/2...she wrote down things we did, things i said, things she felt, etc...it was amazing to read this and have an insight into what she was feeling when she was the parent of a 3 1/2 yr old, just like i am right now...especially her honesty about arguing with me and me being a terror sometimes...i laughed and laughed at a lot of it....and now i am going to get dayplanners for my kids so i can keep "diaries" for them.
the second notebook was also a "diary" for me, but written by my foster mom, started when i was 13 months old and they got me, and went up until oct 9, 1978 when i was adopted by my parents...it was amazing to read about the milestones i hit, the trouble i caused, the joy i gave, and the time my birthmom took me for the day for mothers day...and i cried at the end of it when they were talking about the "new mommy and daddy" that i was meeting....and how they would miss me but were glad to know i was going to a good home. back in those days, once you left a foster family, you usually weren't still in contact with them...so they thought they may not ever see me grow up or anything...little did we know that we would still be friends today, and have kept in contact all these years...the debooms are wonderful wonderful people whom i love very much.
how painful it must have been for all these adults in my early life to give me up...i looked at willow today and just wanted to squeeze her so tight at the thought of giving up my daughter for adoption...i dont know how linda did it...i am glad she did, and i cant even fathom the heartbreak she felt doing it.
i am sitting here now writing this blog, finally crying after going through all that i have today...i'm in such shock and so happy and so nostalgic...and so amazed at how big God is to have coordinated all of this...and i am excited to finally be able to fill this piece of the puzzle thats been missing my whole life...its weird to learn about yourself as a baby when you are 32 years old...but i'm thankful that i finally have the opportunity.
angie
over the years i had known bits and pieces about my birthmom...i knew she was a teenager when she had me, and that she had kept me for a little while, and visited me a couple of time while i was with my foster parents.
today i learned that she turned 18 two months after i was born. my birthfather apparently wanted linda to abort me, but she lied to him and said that she was too far along. i was 10 days late in coming, and she went into labor because she slipped on the ice and fell on her bottom. she was in labor for 10 hours overnight with me, and her only wish regarding labor before that was that i wouldnt disrupt her sleep...guess i was a trouble maker from early on! lol apparently one of linda's sisters had a baby girl 2 years after i was born, and asked if she could name her angela after me...linda said yes, she would be honored. apparently i resemble this cousin of mine very much (they found my pic on facebook). linda chose not to have any other children as she didn't think it would be fair to give up one child and keep others. i lived for over a month as a baby in a tent in her friend's backyard. i am apparently 1/4 native american!!! who would have guessed? lol all in all it was an awesome conversation, but hard to try to sum up 32 years in just 40 mins...i am looking forward to us meeting on saturday for the first time, and pray that this will be a wonderful experience for both of us, and a life long friendship can form.
my mom came over with some of my childhood photos and mementos today...i had fun looking through them, and jeff got a kick out of seeing pics of me as a little kid...and we were shocked at the fact that i got my "eye" teeth before getting my top front teeth...just like willow!!! crazy!
my mom saved just about everything i ever did in kindergarten, 1st and 2nd grade...then lots of stuff thereafter too. it was fun to see all this stuff and read things i wrote, and comments my teachers made. but the most priceless things in there were two small notebooks.
the first notebook i found was a dayplanner that my mom kept when i was about 3 1/2...she wrote down things we did, things i said, things she felt, etc...it was amazing to read this and have an insight into what she was feeling when she was the parent of a 3 1/2 yr old, just like i am right now...especially her honesty about arguing with me and me being a terror sometimes...i laughed and laughed at a lot of it....and now i am going to get dayplanners for my kids so i can keep "diaries" for them.
the second notebook was also a "diary" for me, but written by my foster mom, started when i was 13 months old and they got me, and went up until oct 9, 1978 when i was adopted by my parents...it was amazing to read about the milestones i hit, the trouble i caused, the joy i gave, and the time my birthmom took me for the day for mothers day...and i cried at the end of it when they were talking about the "new mommy and daddy" that i was meeting....and how they would miss me but were glad to know i was going to a good home. back in those days, once you left a foster family, you usually weren't still in contact with them...so they thought they may not ever see me grow up or anything...little did we know that we would still be friends today, and have kept in contact all these years...the debooms are wonderful wonderful people whom i love very much.
how painful it must have been for all these adults in my early life to give me up...i looked at willow today and just wanted to squeeze her so tight at the thought of giving up my daughter for adoption...i dont know how linda did it...i am glad she did, and i cant even fathom the heartbreak she felt doing it.
i am sitting here now writing this blog, finally crying after going through all that i have today...i'm in such shock and so happy and so nostalgic...and so amazed at how big God is to have coordinated all of this...and i am excited to finally be able to fill this piece of the puzzle thats been missing my whole life...its weird to learn about yourself as a baby when you are 32 years old...but i'm thankful that i finally have the opportunity.
angie
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
parenting is a mirror
so after having the best morning as a parent and then having the worst afternoon, i have realized that parenting is really like a true mirror...you know, one of those mirrors that doesnt show you a reversed reflection of yourself like you have at home, but a true mirror...where you see what you truly look like to everyone else.
parenting shows you who you truly are...the good...the bad...and the ugly!
i have enjoyed seeing the good of myself coming through my kids...the manners and empathy and creativity...and i have enjoyed learning about my strengths and abilities as a mom, and that i am stronger than i thought i was, and that i can rely more on God than i was.
i dont even mind the bad really...the little things that i could be better at, the bad habits i have passed on to my kids like grinding teeth and wanting to pull on cat's tails...eeep
but the ugly...ugh....really really bad. i have been learning about what a selfish person i really am...and also how i really do have a temper and absolutely no patience at times. i am a yelling mom...i truly hate that about myself, and i keep trying to fix it and pray daily for me to not yell so much and to not break my kid's spirits. granted i am dealing with a 3 year old who is too smart for his own good and who really needs to still be napping but wont...and also an 8 month old who just learned to crawl so will no longer stay put in any way shape or form. but still...i dont want to be a yelling mom anymore. i want to be a mom who isnt selfish with herself to her kids or her husband...yes, i think its good to be a little selfish so you retain some sense of self, but not where its trumping your time with your family. i want to not try to fit the kids into my day, but instead fit my day into my kids. i am a stay at home mom, and need to treat being a "mom" as my priority...not being selfish and treating the kids like an inconveniece in my day.
i love my kids with everything in me and i am completely glad that i am a stay at home mom (theres only the occassional moment where i TRULY wish i was still working, but its usually short lived)...i just want to be the mom and wife that God intended for me to be. i want to stop getting so angry at the kids and then truly being angry with myself for being angry at the kids. i want to stop stressing jeff out when he gets home from work by being ready to throw the kids at him because i've had it and need a time out. i feel bad that he continually sees me at my worst with them as he only really sees me and kids together at the end of the day when all my buttons have been pressed so many times that they cant be popped back out again that day.
i want the goodness of most mornings to stick through the afternoons and evenings as best they can ( i know days arent going to be perfect, and as my friend kelley reminded me, even june cleaver only had to be a parent for 30 mins a day) so that we can be a loving family inside and out and so my kids can learn what TO DO from me instead of what NOT to do.so i really need God to change me right now...and i need to really stop scrutinizing myself in the mirror.
parenting shows you who you truly are...the good...the bad...and the ugly!
i have enjoyed seeing the good of myself coming through my kids...the manners and empathy and creativity...and i have enjoyed learning about my strengths and abilities as a mom, and that i am stronger than i thought i was, and that i can rely more on God than i was.
i dont even mind the bad really...the little things that i could be better at, the bad habits i have passed on to my kids like grinding teeth and wanting to pull on cat's tails...eeep
but the ugly...ugh....really really bad. i have been learning about what a selfish person i really am...and also how i really do have a temper and absolutely no patience at times. i am a yelling mom...i truly hate that about myself, and i keep trying to fix it and pray daily for me to not yell so much and to not break my kid's spirits. granted i am dealing with a 3 year old who is too smart for his own good and who really needs to still be napping but wont...and also an 8 month old who just learned to crawl so will no longer stay put in any way shape or form. but still...i dont want to be a yelling mom anymore. i want to be a mom who isnt selfish with herself to her kids or her husband...yes, i think its good to be a little selfish so you retain some sense of self, but not where its trumping your time with your family. i want to not try to fit the kids into my day, but instead fit my day into my kids. i am a stay at home mom, and need to treat being a "mom" as my priority...not being selfish and treating the kids like an inconveniece in my day.
i love my kids with everything in me and i am completely glad that i am a stay at home mom (theres only the occassional moment where i TRULY wish i was still working, but its usually short lived)...i just want to be the mom and wife that God intended for me to be. i want to stop getting so angry at the kids and then truly being angry with myself for being angry at the kids. i want to stop stressing jeff out when he gets home from work by being ready to throw the kids at him because i've had it and need a time out. i feel bad that he continually sees me at my worst with them as he only really sees me and kids together at the end of the day when all my buttons have been pressed so many times that they cant be popped back out again that day.
i want the goodness of most mornings to stick through the afternoons and evenings as best they can ( i know days arent going to be perfect, and as my friend kelley reminded me, even june cleaver only had to be a parent for 30 mins a day) so that we can be a loving family inside and out and so my kids can learn what TO DO from me instead of what NOT to do.so i really need God to change me right now...and i need to really stop scrutinizing myself in the mirror.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
a new and improved me...or so i hope...
so...i am trying desprately to fit a little more of my "angie" life into my daily routine...and that is going to mean some sacrifice on my end...and i'm sure some on jeff's end.
i had been doing the dance praise DDR for exercise for awhile, and love it, but the problem has been finding time to do it....and then jeff had a major deadline at work, and we've been crazy busy, so yeah...time got even less and less....but jeff really wants me to be able to have time to exercise.
so after doing it for the first time in weeks this weekend, i realized that it not only makes me feel better, but it also makes me eat healthier. that combined with the extreme embarrassment that an XL belt from walmart no longer is big enough for me to even button on the first hole, has really prompted me to kickstart getting into better shape...i want to be a mom that can keep up with her kids, and not let someone else do the chasing in a game of chase.
so i am going to start getting up at 7am as much as possible, to be able to work out, eat breakfast, and shower before jeff has to go to work....this of course meaning that i absolutely cant be a night owl anymore if i am going to do this...so please, if any of you see me on the comp after 11pm, please tell me to go to bed! i really need to be getting into bed by then so i have a enough sleep to function the next day.
anyways...i just wanted to get this in "writing" somewhere, so that i am more apt to be accountable for it....here goes nothing!
angie
i had been doing the dance praise DDR for exercise for awhile, and love it, but the problem has been finding time to do it....and then jeff had a major deadline at work, and we've been crazy busy, so yeah...time got even less and less....but jeff really wants me to be able to have time to exercise.
so after doing it for the first time in weeks this weekend, i realized that it not only makes me feel better, but it also makes me eat healthier. that combined with the extreme embarrassment that an XL belt from walmart no longer is big enough for me to even button on the first hole, has really prompted me to kickstart getting into better shape...i want to be a mom that can keep up with her kids, and not let someone else do the chasing in a game of chase.
so i am going to start getting up at 7am as much as possible, to be able to work out, eat breakfast, and shower before jeff has to go to work....this of course meaning that i absolutely cant be a night owl anymore if i am going to do this...so please, if any of you see me on the comp after 11pm, please tell me to go to bed! i really need to be getting into bed by then so i have a enough sleep to function the next day.
anyways...i just wanted to get this in "writing" somewhere, so that i am more apt to be accountable for it....here goes nothing!
angie
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Jesus is my savior
Here is a poem I just wrote to use in some artwork I am doing for good friday/easter weekend at church.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE DIED ON THE CROSS FOR ME.
NEVER WAIVERED,
NEVER SINNED,
JUST DID WHAT HAD TO BE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE PAID THE ULTIMATE PRICE.
ALWAYS FAITHFUL,
ALWAYS LOVING,
NOT STOPPING TO THINK TWICE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE IS ALWAYS BY MY SIDE.
EVER CONSTANT,
EVER GUIDING,
HE NEVER LETS ME HIDE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE CARRIES MY CROSS FOR ME.
EVERY STEP,
EVERY MOMENT,
THIS IS HIS GUARANTEE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
WITHOUT HIM I WOULD FAIL.
CONSTANT ERRORS,
CONSTANT PAIN,
MY SIN WOULD LEAVE A TRAIL.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME.
HE IS MY ROCK,
HE IS MY LIFE,
HE IS WHO I STRIVE TO BE.
angie
edited with final draft
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE DIED ON THE CROSS FOR ME.
NEVER WAIVERED,
NEVER SINNED,
JUST DID WHAT HAD TO BE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE PAID THE ULTIMATE PRICE.
ALWAYS FAITHFUL,
ALWAYS LOVING,
NOT STOPPING TO THINK TWICE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE IS ALWAYS BY MY SIDE.
EVER CONSTANT,
EVER GUIDING,
HE NEVER LETS ME HIDE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE CARRIES MY CROSS FOR ME.
EVERY STEP,
EVERY MOMENT,
THIS IS HIS GUARANTEE.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
WITHOUT HIM I WOULD FAIL.
CONSTANT ERRORS,
CONSTANT PAIN,
MY SIN WOULD LEAVE A TRAIL.
JESUS IS MY SAVIOR,
HE MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME.
HE IS MY ROCK,
HE IS MY LIFE,
HE IS WHO I STRIVE TO BE.
angie
edited with final draft
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
reflection of my week
so i've been home alone now for 2 days...jeff has been in atlanta for business since tuesday, and he comes home tomorrow night....i was extremely jealous that he would be down there as atlanta is one of my fave places, not to mention that i have friends there now! and it didnt help that my parents are also down south in florida for the week, while i am up here in wisconsin...in the cold and wind and rain and snow! lol
but...i have had a fabulous 2 days so far! we spent all day yesterday at my great friend kelley's house! seriously...from 9:30am until after 8pm...all day! in the morning, there were 4 boys and a baby girl, plus kelley and i all in the house...and her house is NOT big! she has a son, andrew; and babysits another 2 year old, kole...and then we were watching our friend's 2 year old, samuel...then peyton is almost 3, and willow is only 6 months...so yeah...chaos wouldnt even begin to describe the morning with 4 little boys under the age of 3! lol...but it was good...kelley has enough toys to fully furnish like 4 day care centers...so its kinda crazy and colorful there, but its so much fun...granted we were trying to pick up the trail of destruction as the boys went along, and trying to keep willow from getting stepped on, hit, or poked by a little boy telling us that yes, willow has EYES! lol...and of course, all four boys decided to play like litterally on top of eachother at one point...kelley got a picture of it...it was just nuts! but the best part of the day was after dinner, when kole and samuel had gone home....and peyton and andrew were chasing each other through the house giggling...and willow was so excited and laughing as hard as she could every time they went by! it was priceless. i love hanging with kelley...we have a really similar parenting style, and are both really laid back and have really lived life....she's the bomb!
today, my other friend sandy came and picked up peyton and took him to open gym to play with her son samuel, then took him back to her house for lunch and playing while i ran errands with willow...then she was going to take willow too so i could get some time to myself at the house today...but willow is such a good shopper, and since i didnt have "mr. grabby hands" with me while shopping, willow and i hit a couple extra stores and ended up being gone like 4 hours....lol...but it was good...then we went and picked up peyton and went over to kelley's again to play. we ended up staying for dinner again, and i am apparently officially family now as i was served leftovers from the night before...lol...but thats all good! peyton and andrew entertained eachother and willow again, and we all had some good laughs...so nice to have such great friends...i am really blessed.
tomorrow morning i get to take the kids to play at tanya's house...an old friend from high school at mcfarland! then home for willow's nap, then back to kelley's for the afternoon and evening! then home for bedtimes and then jeff gets home already! time has flown! but its been a wonderful time with the kids really! and its so good to have a close enough friend that we feel comfortable parenting and guiding each other's kids...its awesome! and i know i'll have a wonderful time catching up with tanya tomorrow...although i know we'll need more than just one get together to catch up on like 16 years since seeing each other last! lol
anyways...i am happy and content, and no longer jealous that jeff was in atlanta (although i still wish i was there with him just so we could be together!)
angie
but...i have had a fabulous 2 days so far! we spent all day yesterday at my great friend kelley's house! seriously...from 9:30am until after 8pm...all day! in the morning, there were 4 boys and a baby girl, plus kelley and i all in the house...and her house is NOT big! she has a son, andrew; and babysits another 2 year old, kole...and then we were watching our friend's 2 year old, samuel...then peyton is almost 3, and willow is only 6 months...so yeah...chaos wouldnt even begin to describe the morning with 4 little boys under the age of 3! lol...but it was good...kelley has enough toys to fully furnish like 4 day care centers...so its kinda crazy and colorful there, but its so much fun...granted we were trying to pick up the trail of destruction as the boys went along, and trying to keep willow from getting stepped on, hit, or poked by a little boy telling us that yes, willow has EYES! lol...and of course, all four boys decided to play like litterally on top of eachother at one point...kelley got a picture of it...it was just nuts! but the best part of the day was after dinner, when kole and samuel had gone home....and peyton and andrew were chasing each other through the house giggling...and willow was so excited and laughing as hard as she could every time they went by! it was priceless. i love hanging with kelley...we have a really similar parenting style, and are both really laid back and have really lived life....she's the bomb!
today, my other friend sandy came and picked up peyton and took him to open gym to play with her son samuel, then took him back to her house for lunch and playing while i ran errands with willow...then she was going to take willow too so i could get some time to myself at the house today...but willow is such a good shopper, and since i didnt have "mr. grabby hands" with me while shopping, willow and i hit a couple extra stores and ended up being gone like 4 hours....lol...but it was good...then we went and picked up peyton and went over to kelley's again to play. we ended up staying for dinner again, and i am apparently officially family now as i was served leftovers from the night before...lol...but thats all good! peyton and andrew entertained eachother and willow again, and we all had some good laughs...so nice to have such great friends...i am really blessed.
tomorrow morning i get to take the kids to play at tanya's house...an old friend from high school at mcfarland! then home for willow's nap, then back to kelley's for the afternoon and evening! then home for bedtimes and then jeff gets home already! time has flown! but its been a wonderful time with the kids really! and its so good to have a close enough friend that we feel comfortable parenting and guiding each other's kids...its awesome! and i know i'll have a wonderful time catching up with tanya tomorrow...although i know we'll need more than just one get together to catch up on like 16 years since seeing each other last! lol
anyways...i am happy and content, and no longer jealous that jeff was in atlanta (although i still wish i was there with him just so we could be together!)
angie
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
dear God, there's a cloud in my silver lining
here is the talk i am giving at MOPS (mothers of pre-schoolers) this month...its meant to be a 30 min talk, so yes, its long...but i would love some feedback on it :)
I am Angie Lackner; wife of 7 years this month to my wonderful husband, Jeff; and mother to two children, Peyton aged 3, and Willow, aged 7 months. Like many women, I have always wanted to be a wife and a mother, imagining how perfect it would be as I grew up…planning how I would be super-mom and wife…I was going to be June Cleaver in the 21st century! Then reality happened, and with it…what I like to call the cloud in my silver lining…postpartum depression.
Let me back up a bit and tell you a little bit about my life leading up to motherhood. I was born in southern Wisconsin, and put up for adoption. I was in a wonderful foster home until the age of 1 ½, when I was adopted by two fantastic parents. I was raised in a warm and loving home, as an only child and was taught right from wrong, was greatly spoiled, but was also generous with my things and myself. I went to church on occasion with friends or my grandma, but my parents never went. Overall, I was raised to be a good person.
Then the teenage years hit…and boy did they hit hard! I started dating, smoking, sleeping around, and basically lying to my parents as much as possible. By day I was a good student, but by night I was getting into all sorts of trouble. I was trying to fill a piece of me I didn’t even know was missing. Throughout my teens, I had multiple boyfriends and partners, stole cigarettes from my parents, smoked pot with my friends on lunch hour, dabbled in vampirism with boyfriends, and basically did everything my parents told me not to do. I put them through hell on earth and back again, and didn’t even care at the time. We tried counseling and punishments; we tried more freedom and rewards…nothing worked to change me or my actions. Not even having to ask a doctor for an HIV test in front of my mom at aged 16 changed my ways.
Also through high school and college I became very involved with Wicca or witchcraft. I started using Ouija boards regularly, reading tarot cards, doing magic spells, using crystals for healing purposes…I thought I had found my niche…but instead I was just putting a band-aid on my sadness and emptiness that was underneath it all. Throughout these years I battled depression on and off, and tried some various medications…but I hated the feeling of having to take medicine to feel “normal”…so I would stop. So I just continued to live my life, being happy some of the time, and faking it the rest.
Fast forward to my senior year of college…I was a music theory major at UW Whitewater. I was living in a one bedroom apartment by myself, had been going out with a pretty decent guy for the past 2 ½ years, had lots of friends, and was doing ok. Then my world came crashing down out of the blue…it started with going to be a counselor at band camp that summer…I ended up flirting with another counselor and kissing him…I felt guilt and shame and told my boyfriend…he forgave me, like he did the other time I had cheated on him in our relationship…but it still put a strain on us. Then I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a joint pain and inflammatory disorder, and also a dairy intolerance…(neither of which ended up being a correct diagnosis…but that’s a whole nother story.)…then I also had my first full out panic attack! I seriously thought that I was having a heart attack…my pulse raced, I started to sweat and get nauseous…I thought I was going to die…it lasted for about an hour or so that first time. After that, it happened daily, and got to the point where I could no longer sleep in my bed as that is where I would have them, so I slept on my couch instead…I skipped a lot of classes because I was too scared of having a panic attack in public…I didn’t have anyone over to my apartment because it was a complete mess and so was I…I basically became a hermit.
One day after all of this started, one of my good friends insisted on coming over because she was worried about me. She came in and instead of judging me for the squalor I was living in, gave me a hug and started cleaning my apartment….at the end of the day, we carried out 13 completely full bags of garbage out of my small apartment, and I finally had dishes to eat on again (I had since given up washing dishes and started buying paper plates and cups and utensils…so my kitchen was full of fruit flies…ugh!)…before my friend left, she left me a large framed poster of the footprints poem, and I set it on top of my bookcase. Every day I would look at that poster, and read its words… “One night I dreamed that I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were only one set of footprints. This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow, or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. So I said to the Lord, ‘You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have been only one set of footprints in the sand. Why when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?’ The Lord replied, ‘The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you’”…and then one day I realized that God HAD carried me for so many years and that I wasn’t alone! This was a huge revelation for me, and started me on my journey out of the pit of despair that I had been living in. I finally went and got help for my panic attacks and depression, and started on medication…I stayed on them this time, and they helped a lot. I got a little bit of counseling, but didn’t stay with that…and while I was better than I was, I still wasn’t truly happy, and I really had lost my direction in life. I was burnt out on music, and left college after 4 ½ years…my boyfriend and I broke up shortly after that, and I worked a couple of part-time minimum wage jobs until my parents told me to move back home to Stoughton, get a full time job somewhere, and get my life back on track….so I did.
The summer of 2000 was really the start of my new life…I moved back home, started to feel happy again, and found a full time job selling band and orchestra instruments at ward-brodt. At the same time, I met Jeff online, and we began dating. On our first date I knew that he was the man I was going to marry…granted it took him a bit longer to know that, but we did get engaged after 5 ½ months together. Around that time, I had to reface my demons…when I was to go up to MN to meet his parents, I got my first panic attack in years…I had since been off my medication for about 6 months and had been doing fine…but the thought of going so far away from my parents and out of my comfort zone all but crippled me. Jeff and his family were all very supportive and understanding, and they came down to Madison to meet me first. And eventually, after we had been together for almost a year, I was able to make the trip to MN and had a fabulous time.
While Jeff and I were planning our wedding, he made it known that he wanted to be married in a church. He was a Christian, and had always wanted to be married in a church. So off we went to look for a church to get married in. LakeView was the second church we found, and I felt immediately at home here with contemporary music, people in casual street clothes, and the very first sermon I heard here was about demons…hello!!! I knew about demons! Both Jeff and I walked out of LakeView feeling that we had found the right one. We quickly joined the newcomer’s class, and I had many talks as a seeker to various pastors and staff. Then, on September 10, 2001, while reading the Left Behind series of books, sitting alone in my apartment, I gave my life over to Christ. Then, the next morning, hell broke loose on the US…9/11. I truly believe that I was meant to come to faith in Christ prior to the attacks, so that I would never question my motives for it. God knew what he was doing.
So here I was a new Christian, engaged, getting involved with a worship team, and suddenly happy for the first time in my life. Jeff and I even stopped all sexual contact and spending nights together for the 9 months leading up to our wedding. I was able to quit smoking cold turkey and with just prayer as a help…basically God was blessing me in ways I never could have imagined, and I was suddenly a person who was 180 degrees different than the one I had been way back in high school…my mom was seriously afraid that I had joined a cult, as were some of my friends from high school. But no…I finally had the hole in me filled with joy and love and happiness…it was wonderful.
Fast forward into our relationship a few years…I kept pestering jeff to start a family with me…it put a serious strain on our relationship when I would end up crying every time we made love to each other because I was on the pill, and I knew we weren’t trying to have a baby…but jeff, being the wonderfully practical guy he is, wanted us to have a house, and some money prior to starting a family. I being the impractical one in the relationship was just really anxious to finally have someone genetically linked to me. I have not found my birth family yet, and always got kind of sad and depressed whenever we studied genetics in school…I just really wanted to see someone who had some of my traits. Jeff understood this as well as he could, having never been adopted, but he still really wanted to be a little more secure in our finances before we threw a kid into the mix. So just after our 3rd wedding anniversary, we became home owners…and shortly after that, we finally threw out my pills! I was elated! The problem then being that I just wasn’t getting pregnant! My cycles have always been irregular, and I saw a couple of specialists, and tried ovulation tracking with my temp and such, and even was thought to have polycystic ovarian syndrome, or PCOS for short…that ended up being a misdiagnosis as well, but we didn’t know that at the time. So I went on a medication called metformin which was supposed to help me ovulate regularly, without going the next step to actual fertility drugs. Well after 2 months of that, I felt completely sick, and was still not pregnant…so I stopped. Then we went on vacation for a few days, and had a good time and relaxed a bit…and then the next weekend, almost 1 year to the day that we started trying, I got pregnant with my son, Peyton! I was so beyond thrilled as was Jeff and our families…peyton would be the first grandchild on both sides.
I had a basically miserable pregnancy…not at all what I expected. You always imagine a cute little baby bump and a warm glow and just general elation all the time….yeah…not so much here. I was completely nauseated for the entire 9 months…I had to go on zofran to keep from vomiting. I craved salt and spice, and seriously lived on taco bean tostadas everyday for about 7 months of pregnancy…then after that, it was fried egg sandwiches…I gained about 80 lbs…30 of which was water weight and edema…I developed severe carpal tunnel at 18 weeks which devastated me, as I could no longer participate on worship team or do my artwork…I also couldn’t type or sit at my desk at work anymore, and went down to part time, and then, 2 months before I gave birth, I left my job for good. We had known that I would be a stay at home mom, but we thought I would be working up until the baby came. I basically became a beached whale on my couch for those last couple of months, being miserable and pregnant alone…only really leaving the house to go to my docs appts as my pubic bone had also separated, and made it extremely painful to walk. My mom and Jeff were both worried about how depressed I was becoming…I would snap at them and cry at the drop of a hat…I didn’t really chalk it up to anything more than pregnancy hormones and having my life so disrupted by the painful side effects of pregnancy I was going through. My midwife at the time had suggested that I might want to go on some anti-depressants then, but I insisted that I would be much better as soon as the baby was out…boy…how wrong I was!
April 6, 2006, started out as an exiting day…my midwife was going to start cervical ripening to hopefully start labor, and I was finally going to get to meet my son! She had the wisdom though to schedule me for a growth ultrasound prior to the ripening to make sure peyton wasn’t too big…and boy did we get a surprise! He was estimated to be 11 lbs, 6 oz! So in complete disbelief, Jeff and I drove to the hospital and told my midwife that peyton wasn’t “coming out that way!” She agreed, and luckily the doc on call that day had an opening and could do a c-section that afternoon! So everything started happening fast, and we were going to have a baby that very day! I felt nervous and excited as we prepared for it, and I remember being wheeled down to the OR, and getting prepped…then…my memories are of how numb I felt in my head, not from the physically numbness, but mentally…I felt completely numb to what was going on…here I was having a baby, it was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of my life, and I felt completely indifferent to what was going on around me. It was kinda scary, but I shrugged it off to the meds. Peyton came out…all 11 lbs, 6 oz of him (yes, the ultrasound tech was exactly right!), and took to nursing right away like a champ! Jeff and my mom were completely over the moon in love with him, and I was just trying to make sense of the whole situation. I spent the next 4 days in the hospital, trying to recover despite the extreme panic that was setting in from lack of sleep and depression. The midwife prescribed a sleep med for me so I could get some rest, and it took the edge off, but it still didn’t take away the sadness and fear that was overwhelming me. But I still thought that it was just the “baby blues” that all the books talk about….so home we went. Well, even with all the help we had between grandmas and friends, I kept sinking lower and lower into despair…it took me a week to even change Peyton’s diaper. I would basically hold him to nurse him or if Jeff needed to fix some food or go to the bathroom, otherwise I stayed in bed. I was crying for absolutely no reason, and despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep…I felt like I was going insane. So I finally called the midwifes on a Saturday, and said that I needed some medication. They immediately called in a script for lexapro, and anti-depressant, and within a week I started feeling a little better. Also what helped me in this time, was Brooke shields’ book “Down came the rain” about her battle with postpartum depression. Mom and I both read it, and cried through it. It was heartbreaking to read, as so much of it I could have written, but it also gave me hope, because she found the light at the end of the tunnel. Brooke was able to eloquently put to words everything that I felt…I even had Jeff read it too so he could understand some of the hell I was going through. Here are a couple of passages that really summed it up:
“After only a couple of days of being home, my crying had increased and no longer occurred only in between feedings but during them as well. At times I even had trouble holding Rowan because of my choking sobs. Why was I crying more than my baby? Here I was, finally the mother of a beautiful baby girl I had worked so hard to have, and I felt like my life was over. Where was the bliss? Where was the happiness that I had expected to feel by becoming a mother? She was my baby; the baby I had wanted for so long. Why didn’t I feel remotely comforted by having or holding her?....As many friends called or came with encouragement and empathy, nothing seemed to help. Everyone continued to marvel at rowan’s beauty and alertness. They would say, ‘but come on, aren’t you in love?’ Trying to be honest, I’d reply, ‘not yet,’ but the truth was I felt nothing. Had they all immediately felt such love for their babies? My child was a source of joy to everyone who came into contact with her, except me. I couldn’t believe I was missing out on all the happiness they described and which I had so anticipated. I had been waiting to be overwhelmed by the deepest love fathomable, and all I felt was distance and dread. Nothing was as I had pictured it….Both my mother-in-law and my mother suggested that I stop breast-feeding to give myself a break. In fact, the consensus seemed to be that I give up the baby on the breast and move past that added pressure. But what nobody understood was that the breast-feeding was my only real connection to the baby. If I were to eliminate that I might have no hope of coming through this nightmare. I was hanging on to the breast-feeding as my lifeline. It was the only thing that made me unique in terms of caring for her, and it created an undeniable connection, even if only a physical one. Without it, she might be lost to me forever. If I continued, maybe I would eventually become less cut off from my own flesh and blood.”
I was amazed and touched by Brooke’s honestly and vulnerability in this book, and though it was hard to read while going through the depression, I felt it necessary, and highly recommend it to anyone going through postpartum depression, and also for their loved ones to read it too.
As I was slowly feeling better and more like myself, I started to fall in love with peyton…I was starting to feel capable of being his mom, and enjoying moment with him despite his colic the first 3 months. I also started figuring out the core of my depression…here I was, 29 years old, and for the first time in my life I was not the center of the universe! People were always asking about peyton first, and my friends would talk to him and ignore me at first…it was as it was supposed to be, but I was having a hard time passing the spotlight on to my child. Figuring out the reason behind this, made it easier to cope with. Some other things that really helped me were joining MOPS and having that few hours a month with other moms and WITHOUT my kid (knowing that he was being loved on by someone else of course!), and also joining Meriter’s mother-baby hour…once a week I went, baby in tow, to a meeting with other moms with similar aged babies…all of us were first time moms, learning as we went, offering advice to one another along with the moderator, not being afraid to just whip out a boob in front of each other to nurse, and no one batted an eye at a fussy baby. It was a wonderful environment for a clueless, depressed, brand new mom to be in, and I highly recommend it to any new mom out there! I also realized that I had been a bit mad at God at this time…prior to getting pregnant I had really been on fire for Him still…very active on worship team and in the church, I had even co-founded a visual arts team here and hosted many an art show. Suddenly I felt angry that due to me having this newborn, I couldn’t head up the annual church art show that year…MY project…and I couldn’t go to the Willow Creek arts conference either…both things normally filled my “God-tank” completely to the point of almost overflowing, and now I would have to go without both! I was really really mad at the timing of all this. Then I started to realize that this was just a season…of course I didn’t believe that when other people had told it to me before, but I was never one to listen to others…I’ve always had to do things or figure them out for myself….but that if I just gave this anger and frustration over to God, He would help me through it. So I prayed, and I prayed and I prayed. Then God did an amazing thing…He helped me finish a painting that I had started prior to getting pregnant in time to actually display in the art show, and it went beautifully even though I had no hand in running it. And the first day I got back to church, I was completely filled up with emotion from the praise run that day, like I know I would have been at the arts conference. God is good, and gives us what we need in the moments we need it. God gave me Peyton at that time for a reason, and I needed to start to enjoy him and stop dwelling on what I was missing out on. When in fact, the gift of a child is something so precious that in hindsight, postpartum depression is a small price to pay for what you get in exchange.
Life went on and I started relishing watching peyton grow and learn new things…I felt like myself…and we decided that it was time to try for a sibling for peyton…low and behold, it only took 2 tries and I was pregnant again! Right away, I felt my hormones taking control of my emotions and talked to my doctor and we upped my lexapro…and then I felt pretty good mentally, albeit exhausted, again. Although, whoever said that having kids 2 ½ years apart was the ideal spacing obviously wasn’t actually pregnant while dealing with a two year old! Pregnancy plus the terrible twos does not equal a happy momma! It was so exhausting that I actually FORGOT I was pregnant sometimes and then would be like, “oh yeah…we’re having another one of these! What were we thinking again?” This pregnancy itself was a little less miserable overall, but I did end up with insulin dependant gestational diabetes, and another 80 lb weight gain, and another separated pubic bone….but no time to be a beached whale as I had a 2 year old to chase.
My daughter willow was born on September 10, 2008, via planned repeat c-section…weighing in at 9 lbs 10 oz (way smaller than any of us thought she would be!), exactly 7 years since my becoming a Christian! I felt a bit less disconnected at her birth, but I did start to feel some of the old anxieties creeping up…but it really was a much better time in the hospital than the first time. But shortly after we came home, I started feeling more and more depressed again, and this time, quickly called my doctor, and we upped my lexapro yet again. I also knew that I had to get out of the house come hell or high-water with the kids this time around, and off we went to the mall and other play dates…I was able to recognize the warning signs this time much better, and the postpartum depression never got completely out of control.
I am now the proud mom to two beautiful kids, have battled postpartum depression and won both times….I’m still on the lexapro, and I no longer feel like a failure for having to be on meds to be “normal and functional” I see no reason to ever go off of them…and I am certainly not one with all the answers to motherhood, as I still have battles with various things every day…but I know what its like to have demons and sadness, and I know what its like to feel like there is no way out of the hole that you’re in. But I also know how amazing it feels when you are able to finally crawl your way out and brush yourself off, and start to feel like the person that God meant for you to be again.
I am Angie Lackner; wife of 7 years this month to my wonderful husband, Jeff; and mother to two children, Peyton aged 3, and Willow, aged 7 months. Like many women, I have always wanted to be a wife and a mother, imagining how perfect it would be as I grew up…planning how I would be super-mom and wife…I was going to be June Cleaver in the 21st century! Then reality happened, and with it…what I like to call the cloud in my silver lining…postpartum depression.
Let me back up a bit and tell you a little bit about my life leading up to motherhood. I was born in southern Wisconsin, and put up for adoption. I was in a wonderful foster home until the age of 1 ½, when I was adopted by two fantastic parents. I was raised in a warm and loving home, as an only child and was taught right from wrong, was greatly spoiled, but was also generous with my things and myself. I went to church on occasion with friends or my grandma, but my parents never went. Overall, I was raised to be a good person.
Then the teenage years hit…and boy did they hit hard! I started dating, smoking, sleeping around, and basically lying to my parents as much as possible. By day I was a good student, but by night I was getting into all sorts of trouble. I was trying to fill a piece of me I didn’t even know was missing. Throughout my teens, I had multiple boyfriends and partners, stole cigarettes from my parents, smoked pot with my friends on lunch hour, dabbled in vampirism with boyfriends, and basically did everything my parents told me not to do. I put them through hell on earth and back again, and didn’t even care at the time. We tried counseling and punishments; we tried more freedom and rewards…nothing worked to change me or my actions. Not even having to ask a doctor for an HIV test in front of my mom at aged 16 changed my ways.
Also through high school and college I became very involved with Wicca or witchcraft. I started using Ouija boards regularly, reading tarot cards, doing magic spells, using crystals for healing purposes…I thought I had found my niche…but instead I was just putting a band-aid on my sadness and emptiness that was underneath it all. Throughout these years I battled depression on and off, and tried some various medications…but I hated the feeling of having to take medicine to feel “normal”…so I would stop. So I just continued to live my life, being happy some of the time, and faking it the rest.
Fast forward to my senior year of college…I was a music theory major at UW Whitewater. I was living in a one bedroom apartment by myself, had been going out with a pretty decent guy for the past 2 ½ years, had lots of friends, and was doing ok. Then my world came crashing down out of the blue…it started with going to be a counselor at band camp that summer…I ended up flirting with another counselor and kissing him…I felt guilt and shame and told my boyfriend…he forgave me, like he did the other time I had cheated on him in our relationship…but it still put a strain on us. Then I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a joint pain and inflammatory disorder, and also a dairy intolerance…(neither of which ended up being a correct diagnosis…but that’s a whole nother story.)…then I also had my first full out panic attack! I seriously thought that I was having a heart attack…my pulse raced, I started to sweat and get nauseous…I thought I was going to die…it lasted for about an hour or so that first time. After that, it happened daily, and got to the point where I could no longer sleep in my bed as that is where I would have them, so I slept on my couch instead…I skipped a lot of classes because I was too scared of having a panic attack in public…I didn’t have anyone over to my apartment because it was a complete mess and so was I…I basically became a hermit.
One day after all of this started, one of my good friends insisted on coming over because she was worried about me. She came in and instead of judging me for the squalor I was living in, gave me a hug and started cleaning my apartment….at the end of the day, we carried out 13 completely full bags of garbage out of my small apartment, and I finally had dishes to eat on again (I had since given up washing dishes and started buying paper plates and cups and utensils…so my kitchen was full of fruit flies…ugh!)…before my friend left, she left me a large framed poster of the footprints poem, and I set it on top of my bookcase. Every day I would look at that poster, and read its words… “One night I dreamed that I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were only one set of footprints. This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow, or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. So I said to the Lord, ‘You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have been only one set of footprints in the sand. Why when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?’ The Lord replied, ‘The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you’”…and then one day I realized that God HAD carried me for so many years and that I wasn’t alone! This was a huge revelation for me, and started me on my journey out of the pit of despair that I had been living in. I finally went and got help for my panic attacks and depression, and started on medication…I stayed on them this time, and they helped a lot. I got a little bit of counseling, but didn’t stay with that…and while I was better than I was, I still wasn’t truly happy, and I really had lost my direction in life. I was burnt out on music, and left college after 4 ½ years…my boyfriend and I broke up shortly after that, and I worked a couple of part-time minimum wage jobs until my parents told me to move back home to Stoughton, get a full time job somewhere, and get my life back on track….so I did.
The summer of 2000 was really the start of my new life…I moved back home, started to feel happy again, and found a full time job selling band and orchestra instruments at ward-brodt. At the same time, I met Jeff online, and we began dating. On our first date I knew that he was the man I was going to marry…granted it took him a bit longer to know that, but we did get engaged after 5 ½ months together. Around that time, I had to reface my demons…when I was to go up to MN to meet his parents, I got my first panic attack in years…I had since been off my medication for about 6 months and had been doing fine…but the thought of going so far away from my parents and out of my comfort zone all but crippled me. Jeff and his family were all very supportive and understanding, and they came down to Madison to meet me first. And eventually, after we had been together for almost a year, I was able to make the trip to MN and had a fabulous time.
While Jeff and I were planning our wedding, he made it known that he wanted to be married in a church. He was a Christian, and had always wanted to be married in a church. So off we went to look for a church to get married in. LakeView was the second church we found, and I felt immediately at home here with contemporary music, people in casual street clothes, and the very first sermon I heard here was about demons…hello!!! I knew about demons! Both Jeff and I walked out of LakeView feeling that we had found the right one. We quickly joined the newcomer’s class, and I had many talks as a seeker to various pastors and staff. Then, on September 10, 2001, while reading the Left Behind series of books, sitting alone in my apartment, I gave my life over to Christ. Then, the next morning, hell broke loose on the US…9/11. I truly believe that I was meant to come to faith in Christ prior to the attacks, so that I would never question my motives for it. God knew what he was doing.
So here I was a new Christian, engaged, getting involved with a worship team, and suddenly happy for the first time in my life. Jeff and I even stopped all sexual contact and spending nights together for the 9 months leading up to our wedding. I was able to quit smoking cold turkey and with just prayer as a help…basically God was blessing me in ways I never could have imagined, and I was suddenly a person who was 180 degrees different than the one I had been way back in high school…my mom was seriously afraid that I had joined a cult, as were some of my friends from high school. But no…I finally had the hole in me filled with joy and love and happiness…it was wonderful.
Fast forward into our relationship a few years…I kept pestering jeff to start a family with me…it put a serious strain on our relationship when I would end up crying every time we made love to each other because I was on the pill, and I knew we weren’t trying to have a baby…but jeff, being the wonderfully practical guy he is, wanted us to have a house, and some money prior to starting a family. I being the impractical one in the relationship was just really anxious to finally have someone genetically linked to me. I have not found my birth family yet, and always got kind of sad and depressed whenever we studied genetics in school…I just really wanted to see someone who had some of my traits. Jeff understood this as well as he could, having never been adopted, but he still really wanted to be a little more secure in our finances before we threw a kid into the mix. So just after our 3rd wedding anniversary, we became home owners…and shortly after that, we finally threw out my pills! I was elated! The problem then being that I just wasn’t getting pregnant! My cycles have always been irregular, and I saw a couple of specialists, and tried ovulation tracking with my temp and such, and even was thought to have polycystic ovarian syndrome, or PCOS for short…that ended up being a misdiagnosis as well, but we didn’t know that at the time. So I went on a medication called metformin which was supposed to help me ovulate regularly, without going the next step to actual fertility drugs. Well after 2 months of that, I felt completely sick, and was still not pregnant…so I stopped. Then we went on vacation for a few days, and had a good time and relaxed a bit…and then the next weekend, almost 1 year to the day that we started trying, I got pregnant with my son, Peyton! I was so beyond thrilled as was Jeff and our families…peyton would be the first grandchild on both sides.
I had a basically miserable pregnancy…not at all what I expected. You always imagine a cute little baby bump and a warm glow and just general elation all the time….yeah…not so much here. I was completely nauseated for the entire 9 months…I had to go on zofran to keep from vomiting. I craved salt and spice, and seriously lived on taco bean tostadas everyday for about 7 months of pregnancy…then after that, it was fried egg sandwiches…I gained about 80 lbs…30 of which was water weight and edema…I developed severe carpal tunnel at 18 weeks which devastated me, as I could no longer participate on worship team or do my artwork…I also couldn’t type or sit at my desk at work anymore, and went down to part time, and then, 2 months before I gave birth, I left my job for good. We had known that I would be a stay at home mom, but we thought I would be working up until the baby came. I basically became a beached whale on my couch for those last couple of months, being miserable and pregnant alone…only really leaving the house to go to my docs appts as my pubic bone had also separated, and made it extremely painful to walk. My mom and Jeff were both worried about how depressed I was becoming…I would snap at them and cry at the drop of a hat…I didn’t really chalk it up to anything more than pregnancy hormones and having my life so disrupted by the painful side effects of pregnancy I was going through. My midwife at the time had suggested that I might want to go on some anti-depressants then, but I insisted that I would be much better as soon as the baby was out…boy…how wrong I was!
April 6, 2006, started out as an exiting day…my midwife was going to start cervical ripening to hopefully start labor, and I was finally going to get to meet my son! She had the wisdom though to schedule me for a growth ultrasound prior to the ripening to make sure peyton wasn’t too big…and boy did we get a surprise! He was estimated to be 11 lbs, 6 oz! So in complete disbelief, Jeff and I drove to the hospital and told my midwife that peyton wasn’t “coming out that way!” She agreed, and luckily the doc on call that day had an opening and could do a c-section that afternoon! So everything started happening fast, and we were going to have a baby that very day! I felt nervous and excited as we prepared for it, and I remember being wheeled down to the OR, and getting prepped…then…my memories are of how numb I felt in my head, not from the physically numbness, but mentally…I felt completely numb to what was going on…here I was having a baby, it was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of my life, and I felt completely indifferent to what was going on around me. It was kinda scary, but I shrugged it off to the meds. Peyton came out…all 11 lbs, 6 oz of him (yes, the ultrasound tech was exactly right!), and took to nursing right away like a champ! Jeff and my mom were completely over the moon in love with him, and I was just trying to make sense of the whole situation. I spent the next 4 days in the hospital, trying to recover despite the extreme panic that was setting in from lack of sleep and depression. The midwife prescribed a sleep med for me so I could get some rest, and it took the edge off, but it still didn’t take away the sadness and fear that was overwhelming me. But I still thought that it was just the “baby blues” that all the books talk about….so home we went. Well, even with all the help we had between grandmas and friends, I kept sinking lower and lower into despair…it took me a week to even change Peyton’s diaper. I would basically hold him to nurse him or if Jeff needed to fix some food or go to the bathroom, otherwise I stayed in bed. I was crying for absolutely no reason, and despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep…I felt like I was going insane. So I finally called the midwifes on a Saturday, and said that I needed some medication. They immediately called in a script for lexapro, and anti-depressant, and within a week I started feeling a little better. Also what helped me in this time, was Brooke shields’ book “Down came the rain” about her battle with postpartum depression. Mom and I both read it, and cried through it. It was heartbreaking to read, as so much of it I could have written, but it also gave me hope, because she found the light at the end of the tunnel. Brooke was able to eloquently put to words everything that I felt…I even had Jeff read it too so he could understand some of the hell I was going through. Here are a couple of passages that really summed it up:
“After only a couple of days of being home, my crying had increased and no longer occurred only in between feedings but during them as well. At times I even had trouble holding Rowan because of my choking sobs. Why was I crying more than my baby? Here I was, finally the mother of a beautiful baby girl I had worked so hard to have, and I felt like my life was over. Where was the bliss? Where was the happiness that I had expected to feel by becoming a mother? She was my baby; the baby I had wanted for so long. Why didn’t I feel remotely comforted by having or holding her?....As many friends called or came with encouragement and empathy, nothing seemed to help. Everyone continued to marvel at rowan’s beauty and alertness. They would say, ‘but come on, aren’t you in love?’ Trying to be honest, I’d reply, ‘not yet,’ but the truth was I felt nothing. Had they all immediately felt such love for their babies? My child was a source of joy to everyone who came into contact with her, except me. I couldn’t believe I was missing out on all the happiness they described and which I had so anticipated. I had been waiting to be overwhelmed by the deepest love fathomable, and all I felt was distance and dread. Nothing was as I had pictured it….Both my mother-in-law and my mother suggested that I stop breast-feeding to give myself a break. In fact, the consensus seemed to be that I give up the baby on the breast and move past that added pressure. But what nobody understood was that the breast-feeding was my only real connection to the baby. If I were to eliminate that I might have no hope of coming through this nightmare. I was hanging on to the breast-feeding as my lifeline. It was the only thing that made me unique in terms of caring for her, and it created an undeniable connection, even if only a physical one. Without it, she might be lost to me forever. If I continued, maybe I would eventually become less cut off from my own flesh and blood.”
I was amazed and touched by Brooke’s honestly and vulnerability in this book, and though it was hard to read while going through the depression, I felt it necessary, and highly recommend it to anyone going through postpartum depression, and also for their loved ones to read it too.
As I was slowly feeling better and more like myself, I started to fall in love with peyton…I was starting to feel capable of being his mom, and enjoying moment with him despite his colic the first 3 months. I also started figuring out the core of my depression…here I was, 29 years old, and for the first time in my life I was not the center of the universe! People were always asking about peyton first, and my friends would talk to him and ignore me at first…it was as it was supposed to be, but I was having a hard time passing the spotlight on to my child. Figuring out the reason behind this, made it easier to cope with. Some other things that really helped me were joining MOPS and having that few hours a month with other moms and WITHOUT my kid (knowing that he was being loved on by someone else of course!), and also joining Meriter’s mother-baby hour…once a week I went, baby in tow, to a meeting with other moms with similar aged babies…all of us were first time moms, learning as we went, offering advice to one another along with the moderator, not being afraid to just whip out a boob in front of each other to nurse, and no one batted an eye at a fussy baby. It was a wonderful environment for a clueless, depressed, brand new mom to be in, and I highly recommend it to any new mom out there! I also realized that I had been a bit mad at God at this time…prior to getting pregnant I had really been on fire for Him still…very active on worship team and in the church, I had even co-founded a visual arts team here and hosted many an art show. Suddenly I felt angry that due to me having this newborn, I couldn’t head up the annual church art show that year…MY project…and I couldn’t go to the Willow Creek arts conference either…both things normally filled my “God-tank” completely to the point of almost overflowing, and now I would have to go without both! I was really really mad at the timing of all this. Then I started to realize that this was just a season…of course I didn’t believe that when other people had told it to me before, but I was never one to listen to others…I’ve always had to do things or figure them out for myself….but that if I just gave this anger and frustration over to God, He would help me through it. So I prayed, and I prayed and I prayed. Then God did an amazing thing…He helped me finish a painting that I had started prior to getting pregnant in time to actually display in the art show, and it went beautifully even though I had no hand in running it. And the first day I got back to church, I was completely filled up with emotion from the praise run that day, like I know I would have been at the arts conference. God is good, and gives us what we need in the moments we need it. God gave me Peyton at that time for a reason, and I needed to start to enjoy him and stop dwelling on what I was missing out on. When in fact, the gift of a child is something so precious that in hindsight, postpartum depression is a small price to pay for what you get in exchange.
Life went on and I started relishing watching peyton grow and learn new things…I felt like myself…and we decided that it was time to try for a sibling for peyton…low and behold, it only took 2 tries and I was pregnant again! Right away, I felt my hormones taking control of my emotions and talked to my doctor and we upped my lexapro…and then I felt pretty good mentally, albeit exhausted, again. Although, whoever said that having kids 2 ½ years apart was the ideal spacing obviously wasn’t actually pregnant while dealing with a two year old! Pregnancy plus the terrible twos does not equal a happy momma! It was so exhausting that I actually FORGOT I was pregnant sometimes and then would be like, “oh yeah…we’re having another one of these! What were we thinking again?” This pregnancy itself was a little less miserable overall, but I did end up with insulin dependant gestational diabetes, and another 80 lb weight gain, and another separated pubic bone….but no time to be a beached whale as I had a 2 year old to chase.
My daughter willow was born on September 10, 2008, via planned repeat c-section…weighing in at 9 lbs 10 oz (way smaller than any of us thought she would be!), exactly 7 years since my becoming a Christian! I felt a bit less disconnected at her birth, but I did start to feel some of the old anxieties creeping up…but it really was a much better time in the hospital than the first time. But shortly after we came home, I started feeling more and more depressed again, and this time, quickly called my doctor, and we upped my lexapro yet again. I also knew that I had to get out of the house come hell or high-water with the kids this time around, and off we went to the mall and other play dates…I was able to recognize the warning signs this time much better, and the postpartum depression never got completely out of control.
I am now the proud mom to two beautiful kids, have battled postpartum depression and won both times….I’m still on the lexapro, and I no longer feel like a failure for having to be on meds to be “normal and functional” I see no reason to ever go off of them…and I am certainly not one with all the answers to motherhood, as I still have battles with various things every day…but I know what its like to have demons and sadness, and I know what its like to feel like there is no way out of the hole that you’re in. But I also know how amazing it feels when you are able to finally crawl your way out and brush yourself off, and start to feel like the person that God meant for you to be again.
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