I wish I could be a "go with the flow" kind of girl. I used to be. I even think I sort of know how to be, but I am not one, so I can't even pretend to be. I would love to be the mom that takes everything in stride, and honestly when you have so many kids, people just expect you to. But I don't. I analyze every little thing. I worry every thought and think through every worry. I have a hard time just handing things over to God.
Lately I have been having a hard time with kids coming and going in the house. I just do, and I can't pretend I don't. I have a hard time when we get a pet, when we have a new baby, even the thought of a new car makes me a little nutty. One of my babies took me a full 8 months to get used to having him around. I was in such a funk, even knocked my pretty even keeled husband out of whack for a while.
I know a lot of it is anxiety. I am not good at handling it, and have become convinced that I have some sort of hormonal imbalance that feeds into the anxiety. The last few babies have created very bad post partum depression. My last full term baby, Caleb left me with horrible voices, bad thoughts, a terrible fear that if I laid him down for even a moment, he would stop breathing. So I didn't lay him down. Ever. For weeks. The only person I trusted to make sure he kept breathing was his dad. Because if anyone is more protective than I am, it is the dad around here.
As summer approached, and I knew changes were coming, changes I don't particularly do well with, and some that knock me for a loop, I started to get frustrated with everything. Every time a child didn't immediately obey, every time there was a mess, every time some part of my schedule changed. I dislike frustration, because it makes me feel unreasonable, and I confess that a lot of my prayer life has just sort of evaporated in the midst of all of this. I was getting it back, bit by bit after we lost our little boys, but it has been slipping away. As it slips away, and others remind me to pray, I often find myself back in my teenage rebellious thoughts - "You pray! I am done praying!" and such...and then find myself shocked to hear my own thoughts. I know this is the evil one taking advantage of my less than stable, less than peaceful mindset. At seven months pregnant, I want to be happy and cheerful and excited, and I often find I can be all of those things... with frustration one jar lid away. Having been pregnant so many times, I know that hormones do play a large part in all of this, but I feel particularly susceptible to crankiness and not at all well founded in my faith at the moment.
For me, writing it all down often helps rid my mind of this stuff, so I am hoping I can focus on what needs to be done around here, get ready for a new baby, try to get our finances, which just keep taking hit after hit under control, try not to let the politics of this country of ours rule my thoughts, and try to get God back at the center of my life, my being. I will start with praying to Our Blessed Mother, for I know she knows a mother's heart, and she is my true friend and will pray for me. I am thankful to know and love her, and know that she will take my pleas and cares to Christ for me. Honestly, I think I need a few hours in His presence. I miss Him.
Lately I have been having a hard time with kids coming and going in the house. I just do, and I can't pretend I don't. I have a hard time when we get a pet, when we have a new baby, even the thought of a new car makes me a little nutty. One of my babies took me a full 8 months to get used to having him around. I was in such a funk, even knocked my pretty even keeled husband out of whack for a while.
I know a lot of it is anxiety. I am not good at handling it, and have become convinced that I have some sort of hormonal imbalance that feeds into the anxiety. The last few babies have created very bad post partum depression. My last full term baby, Caleb left me with horrible voices, bad thoughts, a terrible fear that if I laid him down for even a moment, he would stop breathing. So I didn't lay him down. Ever. For weeks. The only person I trusted to make sure he kept breathing was his dad. Because if anyone is more protective than I am, it is the dad around here.
As summer approached, and I knew changes were coming, changes I don't particularly do well with, and some that knock me for a loop, I started to get frustrated with everything. Every time a child didn't immediately obey, every time there was a mess, every time some part of my schedule changed. I dislike frustration, because it makes me feel unreasonable, and I confess that a lot of my prayer life has just sort of evaporated in the midst of all of this. I was getting it back, bit by bit after we lost our little boys, but it has been slipping away. As it slips away, and others remind me to pray, I often find myself back in my teenage rebellious thoughts - "You pray! I am done praying!" and such...and then find myself shocked to hear my own thoughts. I know this is the evil one taking advantage of my less than stable, less than peaceful mindset. At seven months pregnant, I want to be happy and cheerful and excited, and I often find I can be all of those things... with frustration one jar lid away. Having been pregnant so many times, I know that hormones do play a large part in all of this, but I feel particularly susceptible to crankiness and not at all well founded in my faith at the moment.
For me, writing it all down often helps rid my mind of this stuff, so I am hoping I can focus on what needs to be done around here, get ready for a new baby, try to get our finances, which just keep taking hit after hit under control, try not to let the politics of this country of ours rule my thoughts, and try to get God back at the center of my life, my being. I will start with praying to Our Blessed Mother, for I know she knows a mother's heart, and she is my true friend and will pray for me. I am thankful to know and love her, and know that she will take my pleas and cares to Christ for me. Honestly, I think I need a few hours in His presence. I miss Him.
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