Looking back as my daughter is about to be a year old, I’m realizing that the seed “that’s me” a postpartum mother, was planted NOT buried. So if you are wondering if your seed has been planted or buried, just know the same goes for you and it’s there planted and waiting to grow!
That was not always the case. I believed and felt buried for almost 8 full months after having my second child; the daughter I prayed for and manifested. I was about 4 weeks postpartum when I began feeling this deep sense of sadness and hopelessness. I knew almost immediately that something was wrong because I am not one to be sad for too long. I’ve, for the most part always been able to eventually see the brighter side of things. It’s not to say that I never felt sadness prior. I mean come on, we all have. I am saying though, that I have pretty much always been able to snap out of sadness before it manifests itself into depression and helplessness.
Second Time Around
Here I am, a second time mom, to the most beautiful baby girl, waking up and going to bed in tears almost every day. I tried to shake it off, believe me, I tried! I tried as hard as I possibly could. Nothing worked and I kept slipping deeper and deeper into this dark hole. I would watch my daughter cry laying there in her bassinet. Whispering to her how much I loved her while I cried my eyes out. I would sit at the kitchen table crying while my precious little girl cry to be fed. Most times I would eventually pick her up and watch my tears fall on her pretty little face. I fought, I fought really hard but I couldn’t shake it off.
I should probably make it clear. That thoughts of hurting her never crossed my mind, I only wanted to hurt myself. When this really deep, dark and low period begun, there was a pretty devastating occurrence at an elementary school shortly after, one that I refuse to elaborate on in this blog, but its significant because it had me questioning myself and my decision to bring another innocent child to this “cruel world”. Those were my thoughts, I would cry all day, upset with myself, worried about any and everything. It was as if the positives were deliberately hidden from me and all I could see was darkness. I was buried.
Ironic much… right? Bringing forth new life made me feel like a buried seed.
Exercise couldn’t save me
The few years leading up to my second pregnancy, I had developed a passion, a deep love for fitness. It was what I called my therapy, my happy place. I enjoyed working out, truly I did. I still do, but in that season of postpartum, I initially was not cleared to work out for 2-3 months after giving birth. It was the one thing I knew could help get me out this funk but a slow healing C-section incision had the final say. Needless to say, coming to the realization that I wasn’t able to do what I know would help, made me even more uncomfortable. I was discouraged, saw no way out. This dark, uncomfortable hole was engulfing me as if I was a twig in a dry forest fire.
How I coped.
Above all else prayer, pleading and begging God, my maker, to help me through this difficult time was and remains the most valuable tool in my toolbox. I know my stretches of good days was because THE way-maker and miracle worker was still holding the steering wheel. I will never stop giving him praise.
Secondly, I believe being transparent about my feelings with the people I know care for and love me was paramount. I shared what I was experiencing with family and friends, I knew all too well that I couldn’t fight this battle on my own. Speaking about what I was experiencing eased the burden, it made it a tad bit easier to cope. Besides, how can anyone really truly support you if they have no clue what you’re going through?
As time went by, my ‘in a good space’ season lasted longer and longer, but postpartum depression lingered and would rare its ugly head ever so often.
Planted Not Buried
As I sat in the car on the last day of 2022, driving through a festival of lights with my family, the darkness started to fade, though still blurry, I felt I could finally see some light. This seed, was overflowing with the goodness of God’s mercy and all I needed to do was keep watering it. To keep following the sprinkle of light, so that this seed will sprout!
My dreams for me and my family, my health, my freedom from depression would all materialize right before my eyes if I keep on fighting. I have always been a fighter, a survivor, so why would I stop now. My babies need me, I need me. The will of God will not take me where the grace of God will not protect me, and that’s on period!!!
Currently, I feel the best I have felt in a very long time. Working out consistently, in my 9th consecutive week! I do my best to nourish my body the best way I can. I also find time to rest and now suddenly the positives are no longer completely hidden.
This seed is sprouting, its springing forth and will soon become a harvest.
Just keep swimming…