As a man, I thought I could handle it. I thought I could get through it, but I discovered that I too was suffering during my wife’s postpartum depression.
*Another post written by my husband, Evan.*
The stress caused me to lose almost 10 lbs and gave me irritable bowel syndrome. It was the hardest thing that I have ever had to watch. Lydia was sick for over a year and even though my last post was a little comical, there was nothing comical about watching my wife struggle that way.
Just because my wife was the one going through the actual postpartum depression doesn’t mean that it didn’t affect me at all.
I remember the sleepless nights as I sat awake in our bed listening to her cry, feeling completely helpless. I remember the fear of leaving for work, never being sure of what would happen while I was away. I remember the desire to take away all of the hurt and all of the pain and deal with it myself, because that would be easier than watching my wife, my best friend, and my children’s mother suffer and hating myself for not being able to do anything.
More often than not, we treat grief like it’s the plague that we think it is.
What if grief is actually a gift?
I was scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed this morning, and I came across a picture my sister had posted this morning. One of my other sisters had gotten shirt pillows made for Becca and her kids, with old shirts of Harley’s. It’s no surprise that there were a lot of tears shed over the pillows this morning. Even I had to fight back tears as I looked at the picture.
Can I be honest? I found myself breaking down over the loss of my brother-in-law just yesterday. I thought about my sister and her children as they are still trying to work through their new normal without their favorite man. I imagined what it would be like if Evan were to never come home. I can’t even fathom it. What my sister and her children face every day is Continue reading →
I’m sitting here in front of the computer screen with my heart screaming at me to write something, but my mind keeps drawing a blank. Oh how I want to write, but here I still sit, staring . . . waiting for the thoughts to start flowing. It’s rather tedious and annoying. I feel like my mind does that so much these days. It seems that ever since I went through that severe struggle with postpartum depression, my brain has never fully recovered. I don’t know if it ever will. No, I do not battle with the depression like I did before. I still struggle with it, but it’s so much more manageable than it was.
To be honest, there are several parts of those two years of suffering that I barely remember. Those years were absolutely awful and those pages of life seem incredibly blurred. That’s the problem with depression; it draws you down so deep that you don’t even know who you are.
I recently came across someone who expressed anger over a family member that was suffering from depression and took attempts on her life. This person expressed how selfish it was of her family member to be acting this way. As this person’s feelings unfolded, I felt Continue reading →
For some reason, our society (and especially Christian circles) have developed this idea that if we don’t appear to have it all together, we are perceived as weak and one big hot mess. I honestly never understood this mentality. When did we start saying that it’s not okay to be not okay? What exactly is the definition of “being okay” anyway? Our society seems to have set this standard that you must have your ducks in a row to be okay. Have we considered that not being okay is still okay?
This past week has been fraught with a lot of stress for me. It has put me through Continue reading →