I am just under nine months postpartum and still recovering from a traumatic birth that has left me with lingering physical effects. In addition to my new role as a mom, I quit my job to relocate to another state for my husband’s career. I feel a consistent ache of homesickness weighing on my heart, along with a longing for the life and body I once knew. Everything feels unfamiliar, and I haven’t had a chance to catch my breath or a break.
The week we moved here, life seemed determined to add extra stress to an already overwhelming situation. My husband stayed behind in California to wrap up some loose ends while the baby and I took our first solo flight to meet the movers at our new home. It was pouring rain as the movers carried in our belongings. To make matters worse, the battery in our car died. While putting in a load of laundry, water gushed all over the floor. We ordered a new fridge, but it arrived broken. On top of that, the air conditioning in the house didn’t work. At this point, I was so frustrated. Oh, then in the middle of the night, I checked the time and noticed the weather app issued a tornado watch. I laugh at myself now, but I called the non-emergency police line to ask what to do in case of a tornado. The lady on the other end seemed annoyed, and I felt ridiculous. So much for southern hospitality. As I rocked my baby to sleep, I sat in the room in the dark and cried again. It’s become an all-too-familiar scene that I still find myself navigating. I feel embarrassed to admit how difficult this change has been to accept.
As we walked through the cute farmer’s market on Saturday, I realized it was time to share my feelings with my husband. He had already sensed something was off and had been encouraging me to meet new friends, explore, and get out more. Instead, I found myself wanting to be alone and sulking. He even went on to say, I seemed depressed. I gave no response; I just looked away and held back tears. He was right. I had been experiencing a bit of depression, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. I consider myself an extrovert who thrives on being with people and enjoying their company. However, my decision to spend time alone left me feeling more drained than ever before, and it stemmed from a place of fear. I was afraid to let go of a life I loved and missed, and I didn’t think I could try anything new. Talking to my husband helped me feel better; saying it out loud made it easier to admit that I needed a little help.
I feel incredibly blessed, and sometimes that complicates things. How can I complain when my life is filled with so much goodness? My life back home was truly wonderful, but it’s easy to romanticize a situation once you’ve let it go. The truth is, when I take a moment to reflect, I realize I was quite unsettled in California. I could never pinpoint why, but I knew it was time for a change. I used to think it was more like rearranging furniture or adding some wallpaper, but I guess a complete life upheaval would work too! Eh, the truth is that the universe isn’t conspiring against me. It’s easy to imagine worst-case scenarios, and I often find myself searching for explanations as to why things are so difficult. However, there usually isn’t a clear answer. Life will always have some drama, whether it occurs at home, in another state, or even in the car—what truly matters is how I respond to it. I have allowed everyday circumstances to push me over the edge. I’m not minimizing my struggle; I recognize that this is challenging for anyone, especially for a first-time mom dealing with postpartum feelings. I am learning to give myself grace. The truth is, I allowed myself to fall into a pit long before the move.
I believe that my strength and joy come from the Lord, but I had been seeking comfort in other things. On the surface, these alternatives seemed harmless: a bit of social media, lots of coffee, chatting with friends, shopping, and some quality TV time. I felt I deserved to relax since I’m a tired mom! However, I compromised a lot. In all my free time, there was no Jesus time. I made every excuse, but none of them were adequate. None of those alternatives filled me up. I’ve been a Christian for a long time—I know better than to end up back in old habits of anxiety and depression. Yeah, I know it’s ok, I am only human. I also know it is ok for me to realize it isn’t where I want to be. It is also ok to want to be full of joy again.
I returned to my basic routines and challenged myself with small, attainable goals. This past week, I took a break from social media and opted to read a book instead. I also started writing again, engaged in a guided Bible study, spent time with a dear friend, and reached out to a new gal in my new town. It’s a start, and I know I have to begin somewhere.
Talk soon,
Liz Layne