12.21.2018
My Tribe
Although I often wish that depression wasn't a recurring problem in my life, I'm also thankful that this isn't my first rodeo. By now I've learned that I need my tribe fighting with me and loving me through the terribly dark and awful times that sometimes accompany this chemical imbalance. Moving away from my comfortable circle has been incredibly difficult, but in the last day, my new tribe has begun to form, and I'm so so thankful. I'm thankful for the wonderfully caring people who love as the Savior loves, even when I often feel unlovable or easy to give up on. I'm thankful that I don't have to do this alone, as I'm not sure that would even be possible. I'm thankful for this Christmas season, for the beautiful music, the sparkling lights, and the strengthening hope that comes through the Light of the World. Because of Him, there is no darkness so penetrating that it cannot be overcome. Even when everything hurts so much and the darkness makes me nauseous and physically sick, I know that it won't win, because I have the Savior, my family, and my tribe here to lift up my weary heart and give comfort, encouragement, and strength when I need it most.
12.13.2018
Finding Joy Through Family
"It's a bad time of year to move." My husband has said this a few times, and I completely agree. I always struggle with more depression during the winter, so moving to a new place with new people just after I started to experience depression again and during the winter (not to mention also having a baby who has had a terrible adjustment and is not very happy and doesn't sleep) has been very difficult.
Some people who know me and know about this struggle have asked how I have been doing since moving. And when they've asked, I've been fine that day or hour or minute, so I haven't thought to tell about the other days and nights filled with tears and prayers and talks with my husband. That's one of the confusing things about depression. I can be just fine one minute, thinking that maybe the depression wasn't real or wasn't as bad as I thought it was in the moment, and then crying the next. And when I'm struggling again, it seems like it's been forever, like I never actually felt well and will never feel well again.
One thing I've been so thankful for recently is the fact that we may have uprooted our whole lives and experienced so much change in the last month, but we're together as a family doing it. I don't have to do this alone, and I find so much comfort and joy in having the most important people in my life right here where I need them to be. I can get through another dark winter knowing that I have my family to love me through it.
Some people who know me and know about this struggle have asked how I have been doing since moving. And when they've asked, I've been fine that day or hour or minute, so I haven't thought to tell about the other days and nights filled with tears and prayers and talks with my husband. That's one of the confusing things about depression. I can be just fine one minute, thinking that maybe the depression wasn't real or wasn't as bad as I thought it was in the moment, and then crying the next. And when I'm struggling again, it seems like it's been forever, like I never actually felt well and will never feel well again.
One thing I've been so thankful for recently is the fact that we may have uprooted our whole lives and experienced so much change in the last month, but we're together as a family doing it. I don't have to do this alone, and I find so much comfort and joy in having the most important people in my life right here where I need them to be. I can get through another dark winter knowing that I have my family to love me through it.
11.21.2018
Finding Joy Through Accepting Things As They Are
A few posts back, I wrote about this part of me that is broken. It's a very specific part and very difficult for me to explain or for anyone else to understand. Very few people know about this, and it will probably stay that way forever. It's not really something I want to try to explain anymore, as it only leaves me more frustrated that there is no way anyone can understand it or know how to help. I'm not sure if there is even anything to help it, besides someday having my heart healed and made whole in the arms of the Savior, a promise that I hold onto with all I have.
Sometimes my heart cries out, "No one understands, and no one will ever understand!" That is so scary to me. With all the people in this world, no one can get inside my heart and feel it as I do. I can try to put it into words, but those are always inadequate. There is no way to form words to explain the depth of pain that this one thing has caused me.
But time and time again, when I am on my knees telling Heavenly Father that I am so alone, He speaks peace to my heart and mind through the Spirit reminding me that someone does understand perfectly, and that someone is the Savior. He doesn't just understand depression, He understands my depression. And He understands, because He actually felt what my depression feels like. He did that by choice, so that He can give me the wonderful gift of saying that He really truly does understand. I'm so thankful for that!
While I can't put into words what I feel and will possibly never be able to, I find so much comfort and joy in accepting that the Savior is the only who understands, and that's okay! That's all I need. And when the pain seems too great to bear, I picture myself in His arms, gaining strength and courage from His perfect love.
Sometimes my heart cries out, "No one understands, and no one will ever understand!" That is so scary to me. With all the people in this world, no one can get inside my heart and feel it as I do. I can try to put it into words, but those are always inadequate. There is no way to form words to explain the depth of pain that this one thing has caused me.
But time and time again, when I am on my knees telling Heavenly Father that I am so alone, He speaks peace to my heart and mind through the Spirit reminding me that someone does understand perfectly, and that someone is the Savior. He doesn't just understand depression, He understands my depression. And He understands, because He actually felt what my depression feels like. He did that by choice, so that He can give me the wonderful gift of saying that He really truly does understand. I'm so thankful for that!
While I can't put into words what I feel and will possibly never be able to, I find so much comfort and joy in accepting that the Savior is the only who understands, and that's okay! That's all I need. And when the pain seems too great to bear, I picture myself in His arms, gaining strength and courage from His perfect love.
11.08.2018
How Do You Do It?
How do you do it? How do you move somewhere far, far away surrounded by complete strangers and attempt to help them get to know you for who you really are when who you really are isn't quite there at the moment? How do you tell someone that at the moment you have this dark, gloomy cloud hanging over your head, but it isn't you, and it's just this small and sometimes large piece of who you are called depression?
I keep thinking about this, especially as it seems that my dark cloud is intruding more of my day, not just the evenings like it has been the last several weeks. I know I'll be okay; I just don't know how I'll do it yet.
How do you tell that first person that this is your struggle? How do you know who is "safe" to tell and who just won't get it? How do you know who else is silently struggling and wishing for someone to understand, someone to be a friend, when all of this is such a hidden pain?
My mind keeps turning back to when we first moved to Iowa. It was such a hard move on me. I was convinced that I was the only person in the whole state who struggled with depression. (Yes, I really did think that ridiculous thought.) Come to find out there were people all around me who understood and had felt the same pain, but I didn't know that at first. So I hid it, kept it to myself, and attempted to bury it deep, but it got worse and led to the very first time when I really thought there was no hope. It was a terrifying, exhausting time that I don't want to repeat.
In some ways, things are different now. I've opened up way more now than I ever did before we moved to Iowa, mostly thanks to this blog which has allowed me to write freely and openly with less fear of how I'll be received. I've learned to not be ashamed of mental illness, as it is a struggle just like any physical struggle. My eyes have been opened to just how many people struggle with this darkness, even people I never would have expected. I've learned that speaking up blesses me as well as those around me who need to know that they are not alone.
But how do you do it? How do you take that first big, scary step of telling someone? How do you swallow the fear that they might judge you for it or think it's your husband's fault or never see past it to who you really are? How do you bring up something that so many people feel awkward talking about, including me sometimes when I realize that the other person feels uncomfortable?
I don't have any answers, and the thought of leaving all the wonderful people who understand and love all of me seems overwhelming. I know I'll be fine somehow. I just wish I didn't have to start over.
I keep thinking about this, especially as it seems that my dark cloud is intruding more of my day, not just the evenings like it has been the last several weeks. I know I'll be okay; I just don't know how I'll do it yet.
How do you tell that first person that this is your struggle? How do you know who is "safe" to tell and who just won't get it? How do you know who else is silently struggling and wishing for someone to understand, someone to be a friend, when all of this is such a hidden pain?
My mind keeps turning back to when we first moved to Iowa. It was such a hard move on me. I was convinced that I was the only person in the whole state who struggled with depression. (Yes, I really did think that ridiculous thought.) Come to find out there were people all around me who understood and had felt the same pain, but I didn't know that at first. So I hid it, kept it to myself, and attempted to bury it deep, but it got worse and led to the very first time when I really thought there was no hope. It was a terrifying, exhausting time that I don't want to repeat.
In some ways, things are different now. I've opened up way more now than I ever did before we moved to Iowa, mostly thanks to this blog which has allowed me to write freely and openly with less fear of how I'll be received. I've learned to not be ashamed of mental illness, as it is a struggle just like any physical struggle. My eyes have been opened to just how many people struggle with this darkness, even people I never would have expected. I've learned that speaking up blesses me as well as those around me who need to know that they are not alone.
But how do you do it? How do you take that first big, scary step of telling someone? How do you swallow the fear that they might judge you for it or think it's your husband's fault or never see past it to who you really are? How do you bring up something that so many people feel awkward talking about, including me sometimes when I realize that the other person feels uncomfortable?
I don't have any answers, and the thought of leaving all the wonderful people who understand and love all of me seems overwhelming. I know I'll be fine somehow. I just wish I didn't have to start over.
11.07.2018
Finding Joy in Opposition
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about this sweet boy. I love him so much, and I don't mean to complain, but he has been challenging. He's very rarely happy for more than just a few minutes at a time, and he cries more than any baby I've ever known.
But that's not the part I want to focus on. I want to focus on how his nearly constant crying has taught me to be thankful for opposition. You see, whenever he is happy, I immediately drop everything I am doing to talk to him, see his cute smiles, hear his adorable coos, stare into his beautiful blue eyes, and take in every second of his happy times, knowing they are fleeting and will soon turn into cries again. They are the highlights of my day, and I feel myself absorbing them and trying to tuck them into my memory to remember forever.
One evening, I was really struggling. I was explaining to my husband how it's hard that my good times are getting shorter and farther between, and it's likely to continue this way for a long time. That's so hard to accept and embrace. But then my mind turned to my sweet baby boy and how his frequent sadness has made me appreciate his fleeting happy moments so much more. The light clicked in my mind. My days might be filled with darkness, sadness, and lack of energy now, but boy have I learned to love and cherish and be thankful for the moments that aren't like that. The sudden boosts of energy are so refreshing. The days when I am not on the brink of tears all day are beautiful. The times when light seems so clear and bright are rejuvenating.
But would I appreciate these the way I do if darkness was not part of my life's story? Would I know exactly how wonderful those moments are if I didn't know how heartbreaking and painful the opposite can be?
Just writing that makes me feel so blessed. I never would have known to be so thankful, and that brings me incredible joy.
But that's not the part I want to focus on. I want to focus on how his nearly constant crying has taught me to be thankful for opposition. You see, whenever he is happy, I immediately drop everything I am doing to talk to him, see his cute smiles, hear his adorable coos, stare into his beautiful blue eyes, and take in every second of his happy times, knowing they are fleeting and will soon turn into cries again. They are the highlights of my day, and I feel myself absorbing them and trying to tuck them into my memory to remember forever.
One evening, I was really struggling. I was explaining to my husband how it's hard that my good times are getting shorter and farther between, and it's likely to continue this way for a long time. That's so hard to accept and embrace. But then my mind turned to my sweet baby boy and how his frequent sadness has made me appreciate his fleeting happy moments so much more. The light clicked in my mind. My days might be filled with darkness, sadness, and lack of energy now, but boy have I learned to love and cherish and be thankful for the moments that aren't like that. The sudden boosts of energy are so refreshing. The days when I am not on the brink of tears all day are beautiful. The times when light seems so clear and bright are rejuvenating.
But would I appreciate these the way I do if darkness was not part of my life's story? Would I know exactly how wonderful those moments are if I didn't know how heartbreaking and painful the opposite can be?
Just writing that makes me feel so blessed. I never would have known to be so thankful, and that brings me incredible joy.
10.15.2018
Finding Joy in Brokenness
There's this piece of me that is broken. So broken that time and time and time again, the bandaid over this unhealed wound is suddenly torn off and the raw, damaged patch of hurt is exposed once again. It doesn't make sense, this brokenness. But it is there, and I continually try to make sense of it. Sometimes I cry out in desperate loneliness, realizing that no one in the world can possibly understand this piece of me that even I don't understand. I often pray that it can be healed, taken away, made better, or at least made understandable to me. But it remains. And it might always remain until my broken brain is made whole someday.
At times when the hurt seems unmanageable and the pain feels like it will engulf me, God answers my prayers, not by taking away the hurt or the pain, and not even by helping me to understand it (I'm not sure there is much to understand about it), but by giving me someone to sit with me in that dark moment until I can find a portion of light again. Most often, this is my angel husband, the man who loves, cares, and comforts me like no one else can.
I usually try to avoid telling him why I can't stop the tears from falling, because it hurts to admit that I'm no more healed at that moment than the last time this happened, but when he wraps me in his perfectly loving arms, I know that he is my safe place, and that no amount of frustrating sorrow can come between me and him.
Over the last six years, five of which have been years of struggling with depression, I have learned so much about joy. That finding joy is possible, even in the darkest times. That joy is not about my circumstances but about my perspective. That joy is a matter of faith in God's perfect plan, even if that plan includes many, many evenings with a splotchy face and puffy, red eyes. That finding joy takes effort, but the result of increased faith and an overwhelming sense of God's mindfulness of me is so worth that effort. That joy somehow turns my feelings of bitterness into feelings of gratitude.
I had one of those broken moments tonight, but what started out as a desperate prayer filled with hurt and tears later turned into a prayer of gratitude for the wonderful man God has given me to help me find joy, even in my brokenness. And once again, I am reminded that finding joy is always possible.
At times when the hurt seems unmanageable and the pain feels like it will engulf me, God answers my prayers, not by taking away the hurt or the pain, and not even by helping me to understand it (I'm not sure there is much to understand about it), but by giving me someone to sit with me in that dark moment until I can find a portion of light again. Most often, this is my angel husband, the man who loves, cares, and comforts me like no one else can.
I usually try to avoid telling him why I can't stop the tears from falling, because it hurts to admit that I'm no more healed at that moment than the last time this happened, but when he wraps me in his perfectly loving arms, I know that he is my safe place, and that no amount of frustrating sorrow can come between me and him.
Over the last six years, five of which have been years of struggling with depression, I have learned so much about joy. That finding joy is possible, even in the darkest times. That joy is not about my circumstances but about my perspective. That joy is a matter of faith in God's perfect plan, even if that plan includes many, many evenings with a splotchy face and puffy, red eyes. That finding joy takes effort, but the result of increased faith and an overwhelming sense of God's mindfulness of me is so worth that effort. That joy somehow turns my feelings of bitterness into feelings of gratitude.
I had one of those broken moments tonight, but what started out as a desperate prayer filled with hurt and tears later turned into a prayer of gratitude for the wonderful man God has given me to help me find joy, even in my brokenness. And once again, I am reminded that finding joy is always possible.
10.07.2018
8 Good Months
I have had 8 glorious, beautiful, wonderful, light-filled months. That's honestly the longest I have gone without struggling with depression in the last 6 years. Before that, my record was 4 months. And that's about it. 1 year in the last 6 years has been good and depression-free.
In the last couple of weeks, I have felt the darkness of depression creeping back into my life. I'm sure it's partly the weather-- dark, cold, and depression seem to go hand-in-hand. I'm sure it's also partly the fact that I'm still not getting as much sleep as I need with a baby who needs me in the night. And then, of course, there's the fact that my baby is difficult and cries on and off most of the day. It's wearing and exhausting. But whatever the cause, I have felt the darkness creeping back in, slowly and steadily.
First, it was a night when my husband was gone, and I cried for a couple of hours about how I was sure that I was a terrible wife and mom, and he deserves better than me. Thankfully, he came home, wrapped me in his arms, and reassured me that he loves me and needs me.
Then, it was another night when I had made a mistake, and I was positive that my husband would stop loving me and would leave me if I told him. Once again, thankfully, he wrapped me in his arms and helped me see things clearly.
And finally, it was another night (hmm... notice a pattern?) when I was at church for the women's session of General Conference. I was already feeling the emotion filling inside of me when one speaker started talking about how mothers are primarily responsible for gospel teaching in the home. Suddenly, the tears started flowing as I felt so much inadequacy, fear, and panic. As soon as he was done talking, I ran out of the room and cried in the bathroom until the meeting was over. I was positive that I was not cut out for the task and was failing. This time, I knew what to do. After some hugs and comforting words from friends, I hurried home, melted into my husband's arms, and felt his calm reassurance that I am not failing at this. Once he started listing off things I have done/am doing, my mind could see clearer and my heart felt some peace.
All of these times, the depression was so deceptive. I was 100%, positively, unmistakably sure that what I felt was true. It didn't seem like there could be any other way. It wasn't until my husband acted as my eyes for truth that I could see clearly.
I'm not sure that I'm ready for this again. The last few times I have struggled, it has been at least a year before things improved. That's such a long time to look ahead and see struggle. But I've done it before, and I can do it again. I'm guessing more writing about joy is coming in the future. I think I'm going to need it.
In the last couple of weeks, I have felt the darkness of depression creeping back into my life. I'm sure it's partly the weather-- dark, cold, and depression seem to go hand-in-hand. I'm sure it's also partly the fact that I'm still not getting as much sleep as I need with a baby who needs me in the night. And then, of course, there's the fact that my baby is difficult and cries on and off most of the day. It's wearing and exhausting. But whatever the cause, I have felt the darkness creeping back in, slowly and steadily.
First, it was a night when my husband was gone, and I cried for a couple of hours about how I was sure that I was a terrible wife and mom, and he deserves better than me. Thankfully, he came home, wrapped me in his arms, and reassured me that he loves me and needs me.
Then, it was another night when I had made a mistake, and I was positive that my husband would stop loving me and would leave me if I told him. Once again, thankfully, he wrapped me in his arms and helped me see things clearly.
And finally, it was another night (hmm... notice a pattern?) when I was at church for the women's session of General Conference. I was already feeling the emotion filling inside of me when one speaker started talking about how mothers are primarily responsible for gospel teaching in the home. Suddenly, the tears started flowing as I felt so much inadequacy, fear, and panic. As soon as he was done talking, I ran out of the room and cried in the bathroom until the meeting was over. I was positive that I was not cut out for the task and was failing. This time, I knew what to do. After some hugs and comforting words from friends, I hurried home, melted into my husband's arms, and felt his calm reassurance that I am not failing at this. Once he started listing off things I have done/am doing, my mind could see clearer and my heart felt some peace.
All of these times, the depression was so deceptive. I was 100%, positively, unmistakably sure that what I felt was true. It didn't seem like there could be any other way. It wasn't until my husband acted as my eyes for truth that I could see clearly.
I'm not sure that I'm ready for this again. The last few times I have struggled, it has been at least a year before things improved. That's such a long time to look ahead and see struggle. But I've done it before, and I can do it again. I'm guessing more writing about joy is coming in the future. I think I'm going to need it.
6.25.2018
Finding Joy in the Good Days
I haven't written on here in a while, because honestly, things have been so good. I haven't had much to write and haven't needed to write, because I've simply been enjoying this good time. But in the last several weeks, I have felt the burning impression to write a little bit about this good period for a few reasons: 1) I don't know what the future holds for me emotionally, and writing about this good time could help me to look back on it someday if I really struggle again. 2) This is part of my story, and I want to have it written down. 3) This time has been such a testimony builder for me that Heavenly Father truly knows what is best and sees perfectly.
To make a long story short, in September of 2015, we started trying to have baby #2. This was later than what we had wanted to start trying, but we didn't have much of a choice because some complications from Brooklyn's birth needed to heal before we could have another baby. I was excited to start trying and was very good at convincing myself that we were pregnant multiple times, only to later realize that we weren't.
Fast forward to a year later, and I was starting to get a little bit frustrated, because we still weren't pregnant. Why wasn't this working?! I was ready, and we weren't having success or really any chance of success yet.
The next month, I started to experience the new emotional symptoms (the ones that I've written about on this blog) that suddenly shifted my whole world. Everything crumbled beneath me, and I literally thanked Heavenly Father every day that I wasn't pregnant or didn't have a newborn at that time, because if everything would have worked according to my plan, that would have been the case, and there was no way I could have handled that at that time.
Suddenly, I didn't want to hold a baby, see a baby, hear a baby, etc. because the thought of ever having another baby seemed impossible and completely overwhelming to me. I was already convinced that I was failing my one child, so the thought of bringing another child into our home was not a possibility in my mind. I could do it again if all of this emotional struggle stopped, but otherwise, we would have to be done and appreciate the one sweet little girl we were blessed with. Those seemed like the only two options.
About six months later, I was still in the depths of emotional struggle, when I felt the very distinct feeling that we needed to start trying to have a baby again. I was taken back by this feeling because 1) I hadn't felt the Spirit or anything like this in months, 2) I wasn't "better" yet like I thought I had to be before we could have another baby, and 3) I was terrified! Literally nothing scared me more than having a newborn and taking on more in my life, when simple things like doing the dishes and staying out of bed seemed impossibly difficult tasks to accomplish every day. It was especially difficult to imagine, because my last pregnancy, I was an emotional wreck and cried nearly every day for the whole 9 months. I couldn't imagine adding more emotions to what I was already experiencing on a daily basis.
I prayed harder than I had ever prayed before that Heavenly Father would show me how this would work out. If I could just see what was to come, then I could do it. I knew I could if things were going to get better, but otherwise, I couldn't. I didn't know how. It seemed impossible. I kept praying, but I didn't get any kind of confirmation that things would be okay or that I would be able to handle it. All I felt over and over and over again was that I needed to move forward in faith and trust in the things I couldn't see or understand at the time.
With more fear than I've ever felt in my life and with the love and support and strength of my husband holding me up, I made an appointment with an infertility specialist to help us get pregnant. I still couldn't comprehend how this was going to work, but I moved forward, hoping and praying (and crying every day) that it would all be okay.
Six months after that, we were finally able to try a procedure for the first time, which ended in more emotional pain and turmoil than I have ever experienced and more than I hope to ever experience again. I wanted to take a long, healthy break from all of this, but I knew that I should at least give it one more chance before waiting a while to try again.
The next month, we tried again, skipping the infertility medication this time that had caused so much trouble the time before. The morning of the procedure, I was still somewhat afraid, but I also felt peace. Somehow, I was going to be okay.
Two weeks later, we found out that the procedure had worked, and I honestly cried the happiest of tears that over two years after we started trying, things had finally worked. But even more, I cried happy tears that I was genuinely excited and happy to welcome this sweet baby into our family, a feeling that I had been so conflicted about in the previous months.
Suddenly, the weight that had burdened my shoulders so heavily was gone. At first, I thought it was simply because of the excitement that this new change brought into my life. But it stayed. It didn't leave. There were moments of fear or sadness, but they were so fleeting, and I felt fully capable of talking myself through them until I felt better. I struggled physically in the first trimester and that led to some emotional struggle for a few weeks, but for the most part, I was okay, and peace filled my heart.
While I would say that I have struggled much more physically this entire pregnancy, I have been doing so well emotionally, and for that, I am very very thankful!
For so long, I dreamed of getting to the point of feeling emotionally stable and healthy for long enough that I didn't really even think about mental illness anymore. I dreamed of feeling peace and light for so long that happiness seemed like my normal, not sadness and darkness. I dreamed of reaching the day when I would no longer fear making plans or adding more to my day, because the worry of ending up not feeling well and cancelling would be obsolete.
That day is here, and I could never be more thankful! Not a day goes by that I don't thank Heavenly Father in my prayers for giving me this time of peace and joy.
Quite honestly, reading back through some of my most difficult experiences in the last several years brings me to tears and feels like a dream or another life. Surely I didn't struggle that much. Surely that must be someone else's story, not mine. But it is mine, and I will never ever forget it!
So while this beautiful time of light and peace and joy is here, I want to write a few things that I can hold onto if things get tough again:
To make a long story short, in September of 2015, we started trying to have baby #2. This was later than what we had wanted to start trying, but we didn't have much of a choice because some complications from Brooklyn's birth needed to heal before we could have another baby. I was excited to start trying and was very good at convincing myself that we were pregnant multiple times, only to later realize that we weren't.
Fast forward to a year later, and I was starting to get a little bit frustrated, because we still weren't pregnant. Why wasn't this working?! I was ready, and we weren't having success or really any chance of success yet.
The next month, I started to experience the new emotional symptoms (the ones that I've written about on this blog) that suddenly shifted my whole world. Everything crumbled beneath me, and I literally thanked Heavenly Father every day that I wasn't pregnant or didn't have a newborn at that time, because if everything would have worked according to my plan, that would have been the case, and there was no way I could have handled that at that time.
Suddenly, I didn't want to hold a baby, see a baby, hear a baby, etc. because the thought of ever having another baby seemed impossible and completely overwhelming to me. I was already convinced that I was failing my one child, so the thought of bringing another child into our home was not a possibility in my mind. I could do it again if all of this emotional struggle stopped, but otherwise, we would have to be done and appreciate the one sweet little girl we were blessed with. Those seemed like the only two options.
About six months later, I was still in the depths of emotional struggle, when I felt the very distinct feeling that we needed to start trying to have a baby again. I was taken back by this feeling because 1) I hadn't felt the Spirit or anything like this in months, 2) I wasn't "better" yet like I thought I had to be before we could have another baby, and 3) I was terrified! Literally nothing scared me more than having a newborn and taking on more in my life, when simple things like doing the dishes and staying out of bed seemed impossibly difficult tasks to accomplish every day. It was especially difficult to imagine, because my last pregnancy, I was an emotional wreck and cried nearly every day for the whole 9 months. I couldn't imagine adding more emotions to what I was already experiencing on a daily basis.
I prayed harder than I had ever prayed before that Heavenly Father would show me how this would work out. If I could just see what was to come, then I could do it. I knew I could if things were going to get better, but otherwise, I couldn't. I didn't know how. It seemed impossible. I kept praying, but I didn't get any kind of confirmation that things would be okay or that I would be able to handle it. All I felt over and over and over again was that I needed to move forward in faith and trust in the things I couldn't see or understand at the time.
With more fear than I've ever felt in my life and with the love and support and strength of my husband holding me up, I made an appointment with an infertility specialist to help us get pregnant. I still couldn't comprehend how this was going to work, but I moved forward, hoping and praying (and crying every day) that it would all be okay.
Six months after that, we were finally able to try a procedure for the first time, which ended in more emotional pain and turmoil than I have ever experienced and more than I hope to ever experience again. I wanted to take a long, healthy break from all of this, but I knew that I should at least give it one more chance before waiting a while to try again.
The next month, we tried again, skipping the infertility medication this time that had caused so much trouble the time before. The morning of the procedure, I was still somewhat afraid, but I also felt peace. Somehow, I was going to be okay.
Two weeks later, we found out that the procedure had worked, and I honestly cried the happiest of tears that over two years after we started trying, things had finally worked. But even more, I cried happy tears that I was genuinely excited and happy to welcome this sweet baby into our family, a feeling that I had been so conflicted about in the previous months.
Suddenly, the weight that had burdened my shoulders so heavily was gone. At first, I thought it was simply because of the excitement that this new change brought into my life. But it stayed. It didn't leave. There were moments of fear or sadness, but they were so fleeting, and I felt fully capable of talking myself through them until I felt better. I struggled physically in the first trimester and that led to some emotional struggle for a few weeks, but for the most part, I was okay, and peace filled my heart.
While I would say that I have struggled much more physically this entire pregnancy, I have been doing so well emotionally, and for that, I am very very thankful!
For so long, I dreamed of getting to the point of feeling emotionally stable and healthy for long enough that I didn't really even think about mental illness anymore. I dreamed of feeling peace and light for so long that happiness seemed like my normal, not sadness and darkness. I dreamed of reaching the day when I would no longer fear making plans or adding more to my day, because the worry of ending up not feeling well and cancelling would be obsolete.
That day is here, and I could never be more thankful! Not a day goes by that I don't thank Heavenly Father in my prayers for giving me this time of peace and joy.
Quite honestly, reading back through some of my most difficult experiences in the last several years brings me to tears and feels like a dream or another life. Surely I didn't struggle that much. Surely that must be someone else's story, not mine. But it is mine, and I will never ever forget it!
So while this beautiful time of light and peace and joy is here, I want to write a few things that I can hold onto if things get tough again:
- Right now, I am in a very blessed place of being able to serve and give so much to others. It feels wonderful and so so fulfilling! But should I have to cut back again, should I have to simplify my life to the very basics again, including how much and what capacities I am able to serve, it's okay! It's okay to have my best and everything I have to offer be less than what it is right now. It's okay to have to say "no" to take care of myself and my own family first. It's okay to have to be the one asking for and receiving help for a time. That's the beautiful part of life. Sometimes we are on the giving end and sometimes we are on the receiving end, and both are okay!
- I am a good mom. One of the most wonderful and cherished parts of feeling well is recognizing that I am not a failure of a mom. I'm definitely not perfect, but I fully realize that I don't need to be perfect. I'm trying and who I am and what I have to give is enough. My daughter (and now my son coming soon) need me, not some other mom.
- Things always get better. They really do. No matter what kind of pain I may have to experience again in the future or for how long, the light will come again, and it is more than worth it to hold on! This time has been glorious, and I'm so thankful that I'm here to experience it.
- Heavenly Father truly knows what is best. I never thought that I could feel so blessed and emotionally well while being pregnant, especially when the months leading up to getting pregnant were harder than I had ever imagined possible, but Heavenly Father knew what I was capable of and knew that everything would be alright when He gave me that first feeling that it was time to start trying to have a baby again. I would like to say that it won't be hard to trust in the future because of this experience, but I'm sure it will still be difficult when the next struggle comes along. I do hope to remember this experience though and to let it carry me when I am unsure of what Heavenly Father is asking me to do.
4.30.2018
My Comfort Playlist
When I am struggling with depression, I struggle to feel the comfort of the Spirit or to feel Heavenly Father's love for me. It has taken many months and years to recognize that this is simply a part of depression and is in no way a reflection of anything I have done wrong or how Heavenly Father actually feels about me.
Although I cannot feel normal, good, happy emotions at these times, sometimes I can feel a little bit of something, or at least I can remember what those good feelings feel like, when I listen to music. It's usually the same several songs that play on repeat in my playlist until the darkness lifts, as each of these songs contain little gems that give me hope and peace in the midst of struggle.
So I thought I'd share my "comfort playlist" with you (in no particular order):
#1: "It Is Well with my Soul" by Vocal Point
This song is such a good reminder for me to not become bitter or angry at the struggles when they come. It reminds me to find joy, to be patient, and to trust in Heavenly Father, as He really is in charge of my life and is simply preparing me for better things to come.
#2: "He Will Not Let Go" by Laura Story
This short and simple but very touching song has brought so much comfort when my heart has been the most broken. It brings into my mind the beautiful image of being in the arms of the Savior who can heal all of my brokenness and make it into something beautiful.
#3: "If the Way Be Full of Trial, Weary Not" by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
This beautiful song gives me the strength and hope to keep going on even when things are so difficult. It reminds me of all of the remarkable people who have faced much more difficult things than I have who have not given up and who have remained faithful. It literally brings energy and motivation into my heart as I strive to be someone who patiently and bravely faces whatever comes my way.
#4: "Beautiful Heartbreak" by Hilary Weeks
This song is my motivation for writing this blog and for finding joy, as I strive to turn my heartbreaks into something beautiful and purposeful. It makes me think of all the beautiful people who have become they amazing people they are today because of the many struggles and heartbreaks they have faced with faith and courage. It also gives me a greater perspective on my trials, that even though I would rather not face so much sadness and darkness, it is worth it for the wonderful experiences I get to have as a result of facing pain.
#5: "My Kindness Shall Not Depart from Thee" by Rob Gardner
This masterpiece of a song is the perfect reminder that Heavenly Father is really not far away like it feels when I cannot feel Him near for weeks or months at a time. It also reminds me that these painful feelings only last for a period of time before they pass and good days come again.
#6: "Just Let Me Cry" by Hilary Weeks
This song is sometimes just the right song when I need to remember that it's okay to cry instead of trying to be strong all the time. It reminds me that it's okay to feel the emotions as they come, while still keeping the faith in God's perfect plan. My favorite line is: "When I agreed that God could put this heart inside me, I understood that there would be a chance that it would break." For some reason, this brings me so much comfort as I recognize that it's okay for my heart to be broken.
#7: "Falling Slowly" by 92 Keys
While this song doesn't have lyrics, I turn to this song when I need to remember to breath and just hold on. It brings hope and peace to my heart as I listen to the beautiful violin and piano and see the beautiful scenery. It's almost like this song takes me away from the current struggle for just a moment.
Although I cannot feel normal, good, happy emotions at these times, sometimes I can feel a little bit of something, or at least I can remember what those good feelings feel like, when I listen to music. It's usually the same several songs that play on repeat in my playlist until the darkness lifts, as each of these songs contain little gems that give me hope and peace in the midst of struggle.
So I thought I'd share my "comfort playlist" with you (in no particular order):
#1: "It Is Well with my Soul" by Vocal Point
This song is such a good reminder for me to not become bitter or angry at the struggles when they come. It reminds me to find joy, to be patient, and to trust in Heavenly Father, as He really is in charge of my life and is simply preparing me for better things to come.
#2: "He Will Not Let Go" by Laura Story
This short and simple but very touching song has brought so much comfort when my heart has been the most broken. It brings into my mind the beautiful image of being in the arms of the Savior who can heal all of my brokenness and make it into something beautiful.
#3: "If the Way Be Full of Trial, Weary Not" by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
This beautiful song gives me the strength and hope to keep going on even when things are so difficult. It reminds me of all of the remarkable people who have faced much more difficult things than I have who have not given up and who have remained faithful. It literally brings energy and motivation into my heart as I strive to be someone who patiently and bravely faces whatever comes my way.
#4: "Beautiful Heartbreak" by Hilary Weeks
This song is my motivation for writing this blog and for finding joy, as I strive to turn my heartbreaks into something beautiful and purposeful. It makes me think of all the beautiful people who have become they amazing people they are today because of the many struggles and heartbreaks they have faced with faith and courage. It also gives me a greater perspective on my trials, that even though I would rather not face so much sadness and darkness, it is worth it for the wonderful experiences I get to have as a result of facing pain.
#5: "My Kindness Shall Not Depart from Thee" by Rob Gardner
This masterpiece of a song is the perfect reminder that Heavenly Father is really not far away like it feels when I cannot feel Him near for weeks or months at a time. It also reminds me that these painful feelings only last for a period of time before they pass and good days come again.
#6: "Just Let Me Cry" by Hilary Weeks
This song is sometimes just the right song when I need to remember that it's okay to cry instead of trying to be strong all the time. It reminds me that it's okay to feel the emotions as they come, while still keeping the faith in God's perfect plan. My favorite line is: "When I agreed that God could put this heart inside me, I understood that there would be a chance that it would break." For some reason, this brings me so much comfort as I recognize that it's okay for my heart to be broken.
#7: "Falling Slowly" by 92 Keys
While this song doesn't have lyrics, I turn to this song when I need to remember to breath and just hold on. It brings hope and peace to my heart as I listen to the beautiful violin and piano and see the beautiful scenery. It's almost like this song takes me away from the current struggle for just a moment.
4.25.2018
That We Might Have Joy: Sarah's Story
Today at church we discussed what our “hard” is. What do we struggle with? What can we learn from it? I listened intently, reflecting on my entire life, my hardships. It actually wasn’t till later that week that I realized my hearing loss is a hardship. I’m astonished. I have finally arrived! It takes a level of acceptance and embrace to not view your “hard” as hard anymore.
I was actually focused on a different hard, my 5 years of struggling with infertility. Sometimes the hardest trials are when we have righteous desires, but the things we desire are outside of our control.
When life beats down on you, how do you stay positive? How can you have joy in the depths of darkness? I believe it’s important to learn from the hard times! You can do this by learning to identify things to be grateful for, things you CAN control instead of what you can not. It’s important to remain positive! This comes more easily with a grateful heart.
When I was about 3 years into the process of trying to get pregnant. I decided to stop sulking! I was done being sad. It wasn’t that simple; I was still sad! However, I shifted my thinking to a more positive outlet. I decided to start doing things that my pregnant friends couldn’t! I made a “Cradle List” of things to do before kids came along. I tried several new things like sushi, rock climbing, and even bungee jumping! We also planned a trip to San Francisco. These things were fun and distracting. They did not cure my heartache, but they helped me climb out of the black hole of despair and rejuvenate my marriage and focus on being happy.
While struggling with infertility, I learned many lessons. I learned EMPATHY. There are many stigmas and ignorant comments that occur when trying to get pregnant. I learned to put aside judgments and criticism. There is enough anger and hate in the world. What we need is the benefit of the doubt that each of us, MOST of us, are only trying to have the best of intentions. I’ve learned to not judge the man who mumbles or the child that stutters or avoids eye contact or the mother with rambunctious kids. Only God knows what the story is behind the curtain.
Most importantly, I have learned not to be easily offended. I have learned that most comments have more to do with the person offending than the person who it’s intended to offend. In other words, it’s not ME they have an issue with. It’s usually an insecurity of their own. Instead of being offended or mad (and sometimes I still was), I tried to ignore it or figure out why they would say or do hurtful things. Almost always, it is unintentional.
Most importantly, what carries me through any and all of my heartaches is my solid belief in my Savior, Jesus Christ.
“Jesus Christ is the source of peace…Whether they are personal struggles, family troubles, or community crises, peace will come as we trust that God’s Only Begotten Son has power to soothe our aching souls.” ~Jean Bingham
I was actually focused on a different hard, my 5 years of struggling with infertility. Sometimes the hardest trials are when we have righteous desires, but the things we desire are outside of our control.
When life beats down on you, how do you stay positive? How can you have joy in the depths of darkness? I believe it’s important to learn from the hard times! You can do this by learning to identify things to be grateful for, things you CAN control instead of what you can not. It’s important to remain positive! This comes more easily with a grateful heart.
When I was about 3 years into the process of trying to get pregnant. I decided to stop sulking! I was done being sad. It wasn’t that simple; I was still sad! However, I shifted my thinking to a more positive outlet. I decided to start doing things that my pregnant friends couldn’t! I made a “Cradle List” of things to do before kids came along. I tried several new things like sushi, rock climbing, and even bungee jumping! We also planned a trip to San Francisco. These things were fun and distracting. They did not cure my heartache, but they helped me climb out of the black hole of despair and rejuvenate my marriage and focus on being happy.
While struggling with infertility, I learned many lessons. I learned EMPATHY. There are many stigmas and ignorant comments that occur when trying to get pregnant. I learned to put aside judgments and criticism. There is enough anger and hate in the world. What we need is the benefit of the doubt that each of us, MOST of us, are only trying to have the best of intentions. I’ve learned to not judge the man who mumbles or the child that stutters or avoids eye contact or the mother with rambunctious kids. Only God knows what the story is behind the curtain.
Most importantly, I have learned not to be easily offended. I have learned that most comments have more to do with the person offending than the person who it’s intended to offend. In other words, it’s not ME they have an issue with. It’s usually an insecurity of their own. Instead of being offended or mad (and sometimes I still was), I tried to ignore it or figure out why they would say or do hurtful things. Almost always, it is unintentional.
Most importantly, what carries me through any and all of my heartaches is my solid belief in my Savior, Jesus Christ.
“Jesus Christ is the source of peace…Whether they are personal struggles, family troubles, or community crises, peace will come as we trust that God’s Only Begotten Son has power to soothe our aching souls.” ~Jean Bingham
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