Photo: miggslives on Flickr

You know how when you’re starting to feel kind of proud of yourself it’s like perfect ripe timing to be totally schooled? Yeah, it was like that.

The day was going so well.

Today was my first day without Big Mack but with all 5 kids for the entire afternoon from the school pickup through bedtime. So like any new and somewhat frightened step-mom I think, “Ice cream and some kind of park ought to do it, right?” So I packed up the Evans boys and headed to the school to pick up the Mack kids at the appointed time. I was greeted with smiles and a request for another friend to join us… no problem. She didn’t have to be home so what was one more? After all, I wouldn’t want an empty seat in my vehicle, would I? That would just be silly. Pack ‘em in I say.

So I took the 6 kids, including one in a stroller, to a very cramped, very chaotic ice cream shop… like a corner grocery store that seems to have cornered the market on kid-goodness: ice cream, candy, slushies etc. These guys, in fact, even mix ice cream and slushy together to create a treat highly coveted by children everywhere I’m sure. Once all 6 were happily licking away we were off to the local park that is both a playground and a beach – the best of both worlds and a place I had yet to visit. I was obviously feeling particularly cocky by this point as evidenced by my comfort with a lack of prior reconnaissance of the area. All the kids were playing nicely though; it was like a miracle was taking place. Miss Mack and her friend were doing typical pre-teen stuff: alternating between deep conversation on the swings to joining in with the younger kids at the water’s edge; and the 3 middle kids were playing nicely with mini-boy as he tiptoed into the water and hucked handfuls of wet sand everywhere. There was only a little complaining about our lack of preparedness for the beach; it was an impromptu visit after all so no one had swim suits, towels or sand toys but we made do and any complaining was so minor it was barely worth mentioning.

No one is crying and all are enjoying themselves. WIN!

They even behaved when I said it was time to go (a blessing from God Himself, no doubt, who knew what was coming up). We all piled back in to the big family wagon and made our way home… or rather, most of the way home.

And then it happened.

I could see it coming and I heard the gasps from the back seats. It was awful. There was a frenzy. I just knew when I saw the array of assorted barbecues, gardening tools and old dishes that this would be something like a monkey party with stuff flying everywhere. It was like watching a train wreck happen in slow motion and I was totally powerless to stop it. I pulled up the vehicle outside the house and the kids piled out with lightning speed.

“We’re going to the garage sale!” “I have my own money!” “Hey I don’t have any money *cries*!” “Wait for me!” “Move your bag I can’t get out!” “I want to see what they have too!” “We’re going to buy stuff!”

It was awful.

I stared, hopeless, as the 4 older kids trotted off towards the place where old lawnmowers went to die as I bid farewell to the friend from across the street who joined us for the afternoon. Knowing full well I had to care for mini-boy and make dinner (not to mention that I think the Mack kids sense my apprehension with my new role in their lives and know how to play me ever so subtly), they knew all too well I was indeed powerless against their schemes. In a moment they were gone. No one warned me about this.

Why didn’t anyone warn me?!

I had no idea how bad it could be. I had no idea they had any money!! Who gave these kids money?! I’m convinced the neighbour gave them half of the stuff they brought home. Not only one but TWO of the children bought new tool boxes for Big Mack who, incidentally, already has about six tool boxes. Now he’s a handy do-it-yourself kind of guy, but that steel box that looks like a 1967 workman’s lunch kit sure is going to cramp his style. Then there was this awesome joy stick thing that can be used to play games on the computer. “Which games?” I asked. “Any game.” I was told.

Oh but it gets better.

Mini-man bought a remote control. “It just needs batteries,” he tells me. So now if I want to turn on the NOTHING it came with I will have no trouble doing so. How thoughtful. And I know we’ll all get a lot of use out of that NBA game for PC they brought home. Oh yeah, and there were baseball cards… or was it hockey cards, or basketball. Honestly I don’t care. I found myself praying: “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.”

I find myself with my own childhood flashing before my eyes and a sudden appreciation for my dad and his tempered reaction to my own awesome garage sale finds. In fact, I’m a little remorseful if I’m being honest. Sorry dad. I had NO IDEA.

So much for that commitment Big Mack and I just made to stop buying more stuff. I think we forgot to pass on the memo.

And now I’m sitting, and looking around at the boxes of stuff I still have to unpack and find homes for and I find myself thinking, “We should have a garage sale.”

I have so many thoughts swirling around in my head. So many things I think about and so many things I want to share with other moms… new moms. Things people never shared with me when I first became a mom… probably because they were too afraid to be labeled. I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve here because I think if this information makes just one new mom feel less alone, it’s worth it.

This post isn’t going to make a lot of sense… I know it’s not written well and I won’t share all the gory details – that would take a whole book, but I will just say I suffered with awful postpartum depression after my first son was born. I haven’t mentioned it much publicly because I have been waiting on the edge of my seat to see if I was going to suffer the same affliction this time around.

Pregnancy & Labour

The first weeks with mini-man were rough. My pregnancy had not been without challenges: I had gestational diabetes, terrible swelling and carpal tunnel syndrome, gained 70 lbs and had high blood pressure at the end. Then I had a difficult birth experience – an induction at 41 weeks that resulted in 30 hours of labour followed by 3 hours of pushing with no results and then a c-section. I’d been awake for 2 days, hadn’t eaten in a day and a half and then had to spend about 3 hours without my baby after he was born. Not only that but mini-man had terrible unexplained bruising that had me very worried and several doctors stumped. We chalked it up to my having pushed on him for 3 hours and left it at that… the truth would be discovered 5 weeks later.

Once home I felt like I was in a daze. I think being handed a newborn to care for after such a difficult labour with no sleep had me at a disadvantage to begin with. Not only that but I’d had hopes of a perfect pregnancy, natural delivery and a beautiful breastfeeding relationship – none of which came to pass. But now I was recovering from a c-section and my husband was working; I had been convinced to give supplemental formula in the hospital by a nurse who was bound and determined to shatter my confidence in being able to nurture my son; and I was bagged. Completely exhausted.

Mini-man was born on a Thursday night; we left the hospital on a Sunday mid-day, and my husband was back to work the next day. I was alone to take care of this helpless little baby all day every day until about 5 or 6pm. I felt so alone. And tired. So tired. The health nurse came to check on us; mini-man was gaining weight fine; breastfeeding was going okay though he’d nurse for 45 minutes to an hour every 2 hours, so I’d have about an hour between nursing sessions to sleep, eat and pee.

I would cry… and scream sometimes. My husband couldn’t really understand why he’d come home to a messy house, no food prepared and I’d hand him a freshly fed baby and go to bed for an hour or two saying, “Wake me when he needs to be fed.” Our relationship suffered badly.

The day time stood still

When he was 5 weeks old I suffered through the most traumatic experience of my life: Because my husband and I are both adopted, we didn’t know any of our medical history. It turns out I am a Hemophilia carrier and our son has Hemophilia. Tragically, we found out by circumcising him. After what was supposed to be a simple, routine procedure, I was holding him in the ER at Royal Columbian Hospital as he turned grey and listless while slowly bleeding to death.

While that moment was a huge turning point in my faith life (which maybe I’ll write more about at some point), it was that moment that every parent who actually does lose their child experiences… the one where you know whatever happens is going to happen and there’s NOTHING you can do about it. I experienced every emotion you could imagine – fear, rage, overwhelming sadness, frustration, and even some weird feeling of shame. Obviously the ending was a good one for us – the ER staff managed to get him stabilized and sent to Children’s Hospital where he underwent surgery to stitch him up and received a blood transfusion… he had lost over half his blood volume. They then were able to confirm the diagnosis and get us connected with the BC Children’s Hospital Hemophilia Clinic.

My state of mind got worse from there… I struggled with breastfeeding after that… too much stress. I struggled with thoughts of “maybe I am just not meant to be a mother.” After all, if it weren’t for modern medicine neither I nor my baby would have made it through the birth at all let alone through the circumcision. While mini-man slept well at night, he still nursed every 2 hours all day long, wouldn’t nap and wouldn’t let me put him down without crying. By the time he was 3 months old I started smoking again – I had quit cold turkey when I found out I was pregnant – which made me feel like an even worse mother. Then I couldn’t quit…

I don’t remember much of my son’s life from when he was 3 months old until he was 9 months old. In fact, it took until he was almost 2 years old before I finally started feeling like I could relax and enjoy him. My husband and I grew pretty distant for a long time. He didn’t understand. I never shared it with him.

A horrible secret

No one knew how I felt. They knew I was overly neurotic and high strung, but no one knew the things I thought about. No one knew about the tantrums I had alone at home with him. I loved him so much and wanted him and his life to be perfect. I couldn’t make it perfect. I couldn’t give him the perfect mother. I went to mom & baby groups, I worked out, I still did all the things that made my life look normal on the outside, but inside I was being slowly tortured by my own thoughts.

I didn’t get help. I felt like maybe what I was experiencing was just me having a hard time adjusting. I felt like I’d be judged. I worried if I was put on medication would it make things worse. I feel like I missed out on a lot.

A whole different world

Now #2 is here… mini-boy is now 7 weeks old and mini-man will be 4 years old in a month. It is so different this time around. I finally know what motherhood is supposed to feel like. While I did still have gestational diabetes, the pregnancy was otherwise easy. I had a scheduled c-section though I did get the opportunity to go in to labour on my own first, which oddly felt like a win. Mini-boy does not have Hemophilia… another win.

I have been feeling well with the 3 and 4 hour sleep increments which have now extended to up to 7 on some nights. I’ve been given the okay to workout again and get back to normal life.

The difference is that with mini-boy I have beautiful moments each and every day when I get to snuggle and kiss and talk to my smiling, cooing, beautiful baby. I never felt that with mini-man. I feel like we were both robbed of that experience though it’s more of a sadness than a guilt feeling. I know it’s over and my relationship with my oldest son is amazing. He’s a fantastic kid… so loving. I sometimes wonder how he got that way.

Words of wisdom

I have a few specific pieces of advice I’d like to give:

• If you think you don’t feel right, you don’t. See a doctor.
• Postpartum Depression is largely a result of hormonal shifts but can be worsened by life circumstances. It’s not your fault.
• You must try to get as much sleep as you can.
• Let people help you. Having to entertain them in your home is not helping.
• You can’t be the perfect mom. There’s no such thing.
• Your friends without kids don’t get it. Let it go.
• Don’t make any permanent decisions regarding your relationship/marriage within the first 2 years of your baby’s life.
• It will get better. You will look back and this time will have gone by so fast.
• Lean on your partner. Nurture your relationship. It will grow through parenthood.

And the last piece of advice I want to give is to try and change your expectations.

So often we are expected to continue everything we did in our lives before baby after baby. I think it becomes worse the older we get. At 30 years of age I had experienced freedom – I knew what I liked and what I didn’t like, who I was and who I was not and had some financial freedom. What I found was that I was trying to fit my entire life in while my son was asleep – band rehearsals, workouts, sleep, sex, coffee with friends, TV shows… It just didn’t work and it took a long time for me to realize that and shift my expectations. I had to find a way to incorporate things I enjoyed into my new life as a mom.

I also learned I couldn’t do it without leaning on my husband.

I can honestly say that after having survived the first two years of parenthood my relationship with my husband is so much more solid than I ever thought it could be. He’s my voice of reason when I’m starting to stress and it has been amazing watching him grow into an awesome father and an even better husband.

If you’re in that place right now, where you just can’t feel good about your new life as a mom and you spend any amount of time crying or yelling or thinking thoughts of harming yourself or your baby please… please get help. Don’t miss out on the beautiful moments. It’s not worth it.

Years ago, before I got married and started my family I used to enjoy taking bubble baths. Once a week I would pick up special soap, foot scrubs, face masks, do a Biore pore strip, grab a scented candle and indulge in a long soak followed by a manicure and pedicure. That was when I had all the time in the world.

Now that I’m a wife and a mom with a full time job, a home to keep in some semblance of order and another baby on the way, I feel like it’s even more important to find those small indulgences that make me feel good. The trick is finding those things that take no more than 5 minutes.

I wanted to share my little simple indulgence with you… if you’re a guy, you may want to pass (though I bet if you did this you’d feel great too, albeit maybe a little awkward about explaining the enjoyment), but for the ladies, try giving your hands a one minute pampering.

My favourite products are from Bath & Body Works. Last time I was across the border I picked some up at Bellis Fair. I can’t tell you how excited I am that I will soon be able to get my hands on these things here in BC! Bath & Body Works is coming this fall to Richmond Centre. Now granted it’s a bit of a trek to Richmond from North Van, but it’s a longer haul to Bellingham so it’s still a win.

Anyway, I digress. Here’s the routine:

1. Wash your hands with Midnight Pomegranate Anti-Bacterial moisturizing hand soap with green tea extract and shea butter. It’s so nice and creamy but with a hint of grit to exfoliate; it will leave your hands clean  but feeling moisturized.
2. Dry your hands well.
3. Grab about 2 tbsp – a little glob – of True Blue Spa ‘there’s the rub’ Salt Glow with natural sea salt and rub it in your your hands. Really rub it… rub your fingers with it, your palms and the back of your hands… keep going for at least 30 seconds or longer. It’s got a super gritty, sort of greasy feel to it and it smells wonderfully of eucalyptus. Reminds me of being at the spa.
4. Rinse your hands under warm water and continue rubbing until all the salt scrub has been removed.
5. Pat your hands dry.
6. Grab pretty much any of Bath & Body Works’ scented body lotions – I really enjoy Mango Mandarin – and apply like you would any other hand lotion.

And voila!

This one minute indulgence will leave you with the softest hands you can imagine, you’ll have had an experience that will make you feel like you might have just woken up from a dream about being at a spa, and your hands will smell so good you’ll want to lick them (don’t actually do this, though… the lotions don’t taste as good as they smell).

Then all you have to do is indulge at least 3 times a week for best results.

What little simple pleasures do you indulge in?

I got a call from the daycare on Tuesday noon-ish that mini-man had woken up with a fever of nearly 107 degrees. I immediately packed up in the middle of lunch with a friend, threw my laptop in my bag and ran out of the office. I took mini-man to the emergency room only to be told it’s probably a viral infection and to just give Tylenol until it goes away. Other than the fever, he seemed perfectly normal… not even a runny nose. Anyway, by Wednesday morning the fever had broken and he seemed almost back to normal. I tried working from home that day as best I could, but eventually had to get out in the afternoon if only for a walk to the pharmacy and a stop by the little playground near our home.

Working from home with a 2 year old is next to impossible. I think all those people out there who do this regularly either have a nanny in the house or they’re not getting a lot done. Every two minutes it’s “Look! Mommy look!” Or, “I need help!” And, yes, everything is an exclamation. All I can really get done is look through my email, send a few files here and there as people request, and delegate a good deal. Microsoft Outlook Web Access is awful and times out every 10 minutes or so it seems; it doesn’t allow me to open an attachment without saving it first to my local machine and then opening it from there, which adds time to everything I do. Furthermore, half my working files are actually sitting on my network at work, so I can’t access all the things I usually can.

I really have a hard time with this. I really take pride in being very good at my job, so when I can’t do it to the best of my abilities, I get really down. To make matters worse, I have some kind of deep seeded issue which makes me want approval from everyone around me, so God forbid I let anyone down. You might as well tie bricks to my feet and throw me off a bridge. Incidentally that’s the same reason I do all sports alone… I hate the possibility that I might slow anyone down, so I just do what I do by myself. So being out of the office is hard. I know it puts extra pressure on the other members of my team – both above and below me. Being a perfectionist doesn’t help either. In many ways it’s what makes me good at my job, but it also will likely send me to an early grave.

When my head starts spinning about how ineffective I am in my job while taking care of the most important blessing in my life, I start questioning my worth as a mother. Why do I worry so much about work… shouldn’t my head be on this little man I’m tasked with raising – teaching to be a human being? What am I teaching him? Am I teaching him that work is more important than family? Am I teaching him that a person is supposed to spend all day in front of the computer or the TV? Am I teaching him that he’s not important enough?

When push comes to shove, my family is more important than my job. There, I said it. If you were considering asking me to work for you but you changed your mind when you read that, fine by me. I really do strive to find a balance in my life… balance between solo time, family time and work time. I need time where my family gets my undivided attention. I need time to hang with friends and time to exercise and play music. I need time to live my life and time to share it with others. As it is this week I ended up skipping my measly two workouts I usually fit in so that I could spend additional time working when big-man came home to occupy mini-man, but I can’t and won’t dedicate my life to a cubicle.

Now mini-man isn’t cleared to return to daycare until Monday, so we’re making the most of it…

Yeah, he looks real sick to me.

I’d love to hear how other people are achieving this somewhat elusive work-life balance I keep hearing about… especially working moms. How do you do it?