The other side of the story

Ever story has two sides. In a world of Facebook and Instagram, we often only see and share one side of our story. We share the happy, the sweet, the funny...we often don't share the tough stuff...because "what would others think!"  This past year, I didn't share much!  I didn't want to be a fake and make life look all rainbows and unicorns (SG's new obsession) but I also didn't want to share and let people know that I was struggling, I didn't want help, I just wanted to be fixed.

Stori is a year now...wow, life with these four in this house, can be absolutely a blast and to the bone exhausting.

The past year I have learned a lot about myself, and it has given me a story about myself and my health, that while it was happening, I didn't understand it, but now that I'm past it, I realize it was another part of a story to share. Honestly, I've had this typed up for a month now, but was hesitant to share...it's a lot of personal info...and does anyone really need to know all this?  But then I got a message tonight, that just completely confirmed, this story...my story of the past year, is one to share.

While I was pregnant with Stori I was put on a low dose of blood pressure medicine.  What I thought was really bad "white coat syndrome", was causing my blood pressure to sky rocket when I got into the doctor's office.  I'd do my best to not think about it, but it never failed...I'd get to the office, and I could feel the panic creeping up, my heart start to pound, and my pulse race.  So with the addition of a very lose dose of meds, it was back in control.

After Stori was born, I was told I could just stop taking the meds, but two weeks after she was born, I started getting headaches that I couldn't get rid of, so Richard suggested I check my blood pressure, it was a little high. I went to my OB's office, and all the tears and fears came rolling out.  I was put back on my low dose medicine, and told to come back in two days to check it again, but if it got bad, I needed to go to the ER.  I began to have irrational fears of being hospitalized for my high blood pressure.  How was I gonna feed Stori if they put me in the hospital, I'd have to take her with me, she's only two weeks old, who is gonna take care of the kids, what hospital do I go to, what if Richard is at work and I have to take all the kids? I couldn't function, I walked around with my brain on constant overdrive. I was going to bed at 6:30, because I just couldn't stop thinking and stressing or taking my blood pressure for the 50th time that day.  The OB finally sent me back to my regular doctor, where I again cried and shared all my fears. I had always read about Postpartum Depression (PPD), but had never heard anything about postpartum anxiety, but here I was.

I hadn't cried this much in front of strangers in a long time, I just needed my brain to stop, but I couldn't find the off switch. I just wanted to feel like a normal, overwhelmed momma of 5 (please see the ironic nature of that statement!) My sweet husband would try to reason with me about why everything was going to be fine, even hid the blood pressure monitor from me, but it didn't matter, my mind continued to race.

I prayed....oh how I prayed, up and down the road to the doctor, I'd pray. "God please take this away, please bring my blood pressure down, please stop my mind" I'd try reminding myself of all God has done, how I hadn't been put in the hospital yet, and if I did it would be okay, He would take care of me.  Then I felt like a failure because I couldn't pray it better. I couldn't be strong enough to believe God would take care of it, because I kept trying to figure out how I was going to fix it. I was exhausted, mentally and physically and see how easily a new mom could slip into PPD.

Through more tears, I finally asked about anxiety meds.  The weight of the world started to come off my shoulders. I started to feel like a human again, I was smiling and feeling kind of normal.  I was able to come off my blood pressure medicine, and started to feel like I was doing something right again.

Then my heart skipped a beat....literally. I thought "that's odd...maybe that was in my head". Then it happened again. I really didn't want to call the doctor, I don't like being the sick one, the one who feels like she's loosing her mind, heaven forbid something be really wrong with me....the fears and anxieties I thought I had under control started all over again.  This was my low point, I was so over having something wrong with me, over feeling crappy, over all the doctor's appointments, over not feeling like myself. I hadn't told anyone really what was going on, because I just wanted it to be over, and if I didn't acknowledge it, maybe it would go away...it didn't. I ended up back at the doctor for an EKG, which didn't show any thing.  But after some more tears with another doctor, we agreed that I needed something to help calm me down a little more, and a trip to a cardiologist.

I was in disbelief that this was all happening...why couldn't I get in under control...why couldn't I handle this all on my own....maybe the problem was I truly believed that "I" could control or handle any of this. I was praying for it all to go away, and because it didn't, I saw myself as a failure, instead of seeing this all as part of God's will for me at the moment. (hindsight is amazing!)

After more heart monitoring and tests my heart is good, just has some extra beats.  Who knows where these beats showed up from, but here they are, a new part of me.

Life has calmed itself down...well as much as it can!  I feel like I can breath, my mind isn't racing, and I'm not biting heads off anymore.  My prayer was answered...just not on my timing...God's!  I like me way better right now, however along with anxiety meds, has come additional weight, which isn't what any mamma wants after she just had a baby, but at this point, being happy and good for my children and husband, is way better than looking skinny :)

This past year has really pushed me to uncomfortable places for myself.  I'm horrible at asking for help, sharing my struggles or feelings, and at trying to control my world.  God put me in a place where I had to do all these things...and I survived (and never saw an ER, despite all my fears).  I was forced to face the fact that I don't control my life, and despite my best attempts at praying for "my way" God always has a plan.  Had none of this happened, I probably wouldn't have realized how my anxieties were starting to rule my life, and its okay to ask for help!  I wouldn't have made 100 trips to the doctor (ok just a little exaggeration), I wouldn't have had to make all those phone calls worried what the nurse was going to think about me....I wouldn't have grown.

This is my story. I realize everyone has a different story. I was given a gift through Ellie's journey with cancer, the gift of story telling. This is part of my story that isn't all that exciting and definitely not fun, however I was given it, just like I was given Ellie's story, and I can't help but think that this part, just like cancer, could touch another heart that is struggling.

So there's the other side...the side that doesn't look so pretty, the side where I show you that we definitely don't have it all together!  The side where I acknowledge I needed a little medical help to get life in check.  But here we still are!  Given another day to share, to love, to cry, to appreciate, and to thank God for the story He has given me, I forget to do that a lot when frustrations take over!

Prayer, Praise and Pink
~Carly