I’m not sure why I haven’t been blogging.
Well, the “not enough hours in the day” thing is part of it – working and parenting and trying to do laundry once in awhile takes up a lot of life’s moments.
The other part of it is harder to explain. I’ve been really struggling with my mood over the last few months, and I find it both exhausting and a little shameful. Professionally I say all the time that mental health should not have such a stigma attached, that we don’t judge anyone for seeking treatment for other medical conditions. Personally – it’s harder. In this space especially, where I should feel totally free to write about whatever I want to, I walk away from drafted posts in the middle instead of trying to tease out the strands of my muddled thoughts.
I have a great circle of bereaved mom friends, and I wonder sometimes if this is common to us as a group. No one feels totally free to talk about feeling sad when we have our beautiful, healthy rainbow* babies, conceived in a place of loss, gestated in a place of anxiety, wanted, loved, and so treasured. We forget that we’re allowed to feel love and gratitude at the same time as sadness. We’re mostly supposed to be happy now, I think.
And the funny part is… I don’t actually think my current difficulty with anxiety and depression actually has much to do with either of my children – pregnancy, loss, or parenting. I’ve got some medical stuff happening that has led to pretty severe deficiencies in iron and B12, and I’m in a difficult situation at work (short story – my current placement is not a great fit and it’s extremely stressful). There are plenty of reasons why I’m not feeling like myself, and none of them are a personal failing. I’m not sure why it’s so hard to write about.
At any rate, I don’t want to deny myself this space. Writing is good for me, and documenting this awesome toddler-ful stage of life is good for me too.
Re: the toddler – she’s awesome. I’ll do a separate post, but aside from her obvious intention to win the award for baby to get the most ear infections in a 6 month period, we’re loving this age. Moose is almost 17 months old, runs everywhere, gets into everything, copies everything that Lauren and I do, and generally lives her life to the fullest.
And sleeps through the night too. Alleluia.
*”rainbow baby” is a commonly used term for a baby born after a lost sibling. I actually struggle a lot with the term (although I think I’m the only one) because I have difficulty with using a label that defines Moose by Ezra’s death. It worries me, that she might get the idea that she was born to make me feel happy again. She was born to be her own wacky little self. However, it’s the term people use and I don’t really have another one.