Perspective

When I'm at work, I'm ok. I feel more like myself than ever. My thoughts and emotions are clear. I'm not in a fog. I'm just ME. Most days, I feel really good at work. I don't feel like I'm wearing my thoughts and emotions on my face and "sleeve" so to speak. 

But when I am at home is when I'm at my worst. Sometimes the depression is so deep and dark. It follows me around like a cloud. Nothing can shake it. Not a shower. Not cleaning or baking. Not even my little baby's 14 month old antics. I noticed that when I have my friends over, I throw myself into the cleaning and cooking/baking. I tend to make extravagant meals and desserts for them so that I have something to concentrate on. When I don't have anything to concentrate on, the emptiness inside me grows stronger. The deep, dark, emptiness surrounds me. Sometimes it's different but the emotions that go with it are anger escalating to rage or numbness, joyless, purposeless. I end up walking around feeling like an empty shell of a person. It's not a pretty site to be around me when I feel like that. It's very hard for me to see passed myself and my feelings (or lack thereof) when I feel like that. 

It takes extreme effort for me to push passed that depression but I'm trying. 

Here is where I find my perspective.

Cherisse DesJardins Lipps. 

I know her from years of church camps and various other functions. Growing up, she was always considered the popular girl. I don't know if she knows that or thinks so but it's true. Everyone always loved her, myself included. I think it's because Cherisse never cared what's cool or in style or the "IT" thing to do or say; she always did what she liked regardless of what everyone else thought. That always made her stand out from the crowd of culture driven, peer pressured, pre-pubescent teens. She's even beautiful and has a beautiful voice! I personally loved it when she would sing specials with her brothers. When the DesJardins would get up there, your ears were in for a treat! 

Fast forward to adulthood and Cherisse got married to a man perfect for her in every way! She's graduated from college and teaching in a classroom. And then she gets diagnosed with a brain tumor. I, like everyone else, was shocked!! But she's so young! She's so beautiful! She's so popular and loved! Ladies and gentlemen, sickness and diseases are no respecter of persons. Sickness and diseases do not discriminate. Poor Cherisse has had over 2 brain tumor surgeries, more than a year trying to recover, daily seizures and medications  chemotherapy, radiation, she's been taken out of work, can't drive her own car, shaved her head, and has had to adjust to the changes in her everyday life that this has brought upon her. She has to learn a new "normal." And I'm positive that most days, it must suck.

If Cherisse can find the courage and strength to muster up a smile after all her treatments and being sick for so long, then I most certainly can snap out of my depression bubble and somehow grow some gonads and make it through my day.

Alice Pyne. 

I don't know her personally but have started reading her blog. She is a 15 year old girl diagnosed with terminally ill cancer. She says she wanted to create a bucket list and blog about it since she isn't winning her fight. 

How horrible to realize at 15 that your life will be cut shorter than you'd like. At 15, I was flirting with boys and worrying about my homework and test scores. I can't even imagine what her family and she must be going through right now. 

SNAP. OUT. OF. IT. CRISTINE.

I may be having a tough time but I'm physically fit and healthy. My family is physically fit and healthy. My husband and I both have good paying jobs in this terrible economy. While we have debt up the wahoo (thanks to his student loans and paying for our wedding all by ourselves), we are living in a beautiful gated condo community, have 2 cars that are in good and great condition, a home where we have what we need (ok so the bridal registry didn't completely render what we need to fully furnish our home but we make do), our 14 month old son is happy, healthy, and starting to walk and eat solid table foods, our Silky Terrier is annoying but lovable. All in all, I have no room to complain when clearly, others around me are going through a much harder time. 

It's quite selfish if you think about it. If you have your head so wrapped around your own problems and shoved sooo far up your you KNOW what that you can't see the struggles others around you are facing, you have missed your opportunity for healing through helping. Helping someone else during their own time of need (and momentarily putting yours on the back burner) will help to heal and strengthen you emotionally and in turn, you'll be better equipped to tackle your own difficulties! A new perspective and fresh outlook are the undoing for trials and tribulations! You'll get a great self esteem boost! You'll feel good about yourself, that in some small way you are making a difference! And maybe, just maybe, someone will come along and be your help through your struggle! 

Click HERE if you're interested in seeing the Facebook page set up for fundraising to help Cherisse with the growing medical expenses. I personally purchased the tote bags and I LOVE them! They have a zipper so my groceries don't fall out when I'm driving. :) 

Click HERE to read Alice's blog. She currently is not looking for donations but just readers to share her experience with. I believe she'd like to touch as many lives as she can, while she can.

Surviving the Penobscot: Swimming in Class V Rapids

**Disclaimer- As with all my blogs, everything stated are my own thoughts, feelings, and opinions. The following are my raw thoughts, feelings, and gut reactions; completely un-exaggerated. 

PROLOGUE:

I have a set group of friends dubbed the Tuesday Night Dinner Crew because we get together on Tuesday nights for dinner, rotating whose house we go to.  Most of the TND crew are all co-workers at the same job. The rest of us are the "guests" of said co-workers. We are all transplanted from Connecticut and being that we didn't know anyone else, we started having someone over for dinner, in hopes of making friends. That has grown into a large group of 12-14 on a weekly basis. It's a diverse crowd and I love them. :) Our weekly dinners are the highlight of my week! :) We don't just hang out on Tuesday nights. There have been some weeks that we've hung out 3 different times in one week.

A couple of people from TND decided to plan a white water rafting trip last year. We couldn't attend because we'd just had our baby but we planned on going the next time. A year later, and here we find ourselves preparing for rafting on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country; the Penobscot River in Maine. That river proudly boasts two Class V rapids. (For those that don't know what V stands for, it's roman numerals for 5.)

I was sooo excited the entire time of planning but found myself getting more and more nervous (ok, scared) as the time drew closer. By the morning of, I was kinda quiet, my stomach in knots, and slightly nauseated from the nerves. We were given our wet suits, helmets, life vests, paddles, a short survival technique tutorial and were on our way.

(Above picture: Our group of rafters just before we walked to the site. Not shown: Abbey while she takes the photo.)

(Above picture: my husband and I after getting into all our gear. I'm already a ball of nerves by this point.)

Once in the boat, we learned some basic rafting commands like All Ahead, All Back, Left Ahead, Left Back, Right Ahead, Right Back, Stop, and Dig.

The first rapid we encountered was a Class IV (4) waterfall that was a 13 foot drop. Our boat was 16 feet long so our guide said theoretically, we shouldn't tip.

NOT TRUE. 

We went down the rapid, heard the call for DIG and paddled our little hearts out. (Did I mention our boat was full of BEGINNERS??!!) From what our friends described, the back of the boat was sucked in, the front lifted up into the air, and row by row, the people fell back onto one another like a domino effect. We all fell into the waterfall. It was a minute or so before I popped up. I got caught in the current of the waterfall, tumbling around underwater. I thought I was going to run out of air before I popped up. Amazingly enough, I did remember to hold onto my paddle (dully instructed if you were to fall in). I popped up panicked but saw my friend's dad calmly floating on his back with his feet up and I remembered that's what I was told to do if I fell in. So we floated until our guide yelled for us to swim back to the boat. It's considered a Class IV (4) rapid without consequence. That means that there was calm enough water that we were able to swim back to the boat. Our guide told us the thought was to start out with that rapid so that if someone freaks out, they can take them right back to shore before the REAL rapids start. "Oh great, dump them in the waterfall and give them nightmares." as the rest of my crew laughs at my joke. "No Cristine, that's just you." my friend joked right back. Little did she know... but more about that later...

We were all cold from the wind chill and slightly scared, I think. I know I certainly was! The rapids seemed to build in intensity as we went and by the time lunch time came, I was terrified. I didn't know if I wanted to go for the second half of the rafting. My friend's dad and his dad's girlfriend (who have been rafting before) decided they were tired and didn't want to go on the second half. He's a big guy and was the lead on our boat! If he doesn't want to go, I shouldn't go! I'm about 110 pounds soaking wet!! He said they were tired and he knew they needed strength to paddle through those Class V rapids ("They're INN- TINSE!" he said in his Indiana drawl), plus he thought the boat would be dumped at least 2 more times and he didn't want to go "swimming" in that water! My husband and friend were telling me to stay on shore if I was doubting myself. My other friends were using the ever effective tactic of peer pressure, albeit lovingly; "You came all this way, You paid all that money, You can do it, You need about as much strength and endurance as you did to birth a baby." I looked right at the guide and loudly proclaimed: I will birth 15 babies right now, on the spot, if you can just promise me I won't fall out of the boat.

I debated right until the very last second.

I was gonna do it. My reasons for doing so weren't good at all but I was gonna do it.

My reasons:

• I did come all this way. 
• I did pay all this money. 
• I'll be mad at myself for chickening out if it really wasn't that bad. 
• I don't wanna be labeled as the chicken of the group. 
• If my 65 year old patient can go white water rafting with her grandkids, I can do it. 
• If she can do it, I can do it. 
• I'll feel really good about myself for overcoming my fear. 
• Anthony was going. I didn't want anything to happen to him and not know. 
• If I go, at least I'd be right there in the thick of things and know exactly what's going on with my husband. 

Like I said, stupid stupid reasons.

We're carrying the boat to the launch site and our guide says, "You guys have to paddle paddle paddle! If you all quit and don't paddle through the rapid, I AM F***ED!" Hmmm, nice. Great way to motivate the team. The water level was much higher and fiercer than normal. Our guide said it was 3200 cfs. I didn't know what that meant so he said 3200 cubic feet per second. Imagine 3200 basketballs being pelted at you all at once. That's the sheer force of the water.

The launch site was much more difficult than normal. Apparently there was more rushing water than usual so instead of having a practice period to go over all our commands again, we were immediately thrust into Class IV (4) rapids. If you knew me, you'd know I don't really swear. The only way I can think to describe exactly how I felt is to say

I was SCARED. OUT. OF. MY. MIND.

I was scared sh**less. I was terrified that the sheer force of the waves pounding us would be enough to knock us out of the boat. As soon as I had that thought, I grabbed the rope for support. We made it through those rapids with our guide cheering and shouting ALL AHEAD. I continued to paddle with everyone else even shouting his commands so everyone in front could hear. I was told that night, nobody in front could even hear what the guide was shouting. 

I had only been looking down while I paddle and I looked up. What lied ahead was a sight to see. 

ROARING RAPIDS. 

RUSHING WATER EVERY WHICH WAY. 

ROCKS JUTTING OUT EVERYWHERE.

ALL AHEAD! our guide shouts. DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG! I'm trying, I'm trying. I'm terrified! I see a huge wave coming. Forget this, I'm grabbing the rope!! 

(Above picture: I am in the back near the guide diving for the rope. As you can see, the force of the wave was enough to come and scoop out the 3 guys in front. The one in front of me is my husband Anthony.)

Little did I know that that wave had already taken out the first three people in our boat, two of whom were of "Leaders," meaning they were in front and we were supposed to follow them paddling. Before I could even get a good hold on that support rope, the right side of the boat lifted and the entire crew (minus the guide) was "dump trucked" into the Class V rapids. 

(Above picture: all of our feet sticking straight up in the air as we fell into the Class V rapids.)

The only other girl on the boat popped up close enough to be pulled in. When I popped up, the guide was shouting GRAB MY PADDLE! GRAB MY PADDLE! He knew how terrified I was. He put me in the back of the boat so he "could watch me" as he put it. As I frantically reached for his paddle, I kept thinking, he's pale and looks stricken. If HE looks like that, this MUST be bad. 

(Above picture: the guide extending his paddle as I frantically swim to reach it. I didn't know at the time that my husband and our friend were behind me.)

I grabbed the T shape of the paddle but didn't have a strong hold. We were separated by the many currents. I looked forward and saw a gigantic rock and thought, I'm going to slam into this rock and be crushed by the pounding water on my back. 

(Above picture: separated from the guide in a matter of seconds, I was thrown up against the rock. The picture was taken before my husband, our friend, and I got separated by the currents. Not shown: the guide blowing the emergency whistle)

I didn't slam into it too hard (thankfully) but the water did pound my back. I can't stay here. I didn't have a choice. The water rushed me away. I was pushed down by the current and hit so many rocks. SO. MANY. ROCKS. I finally popped up and you're first instinct is to tread water. You CAN'T tread water. There are too many currents and you'll be sucked back down again. You have to float on your back and attempt to keep your nose and toes above water. I saw bystanders on the shore watching us, I saw a professional photographer. I'm thinking HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! 

I remember thinking, "Jeez, all these people look the same: stricken. This must be bad." I hear a gurgling and someone gurgling my name, "CRIS *bluubbb gurrrgggggg*" I look to my left and there's my husband, drowning next to me, not even 3 feet away, reaching his arm to me. And I can't save him. I can't even save myself. Once you're dumped into the rapids, it's every man for himself. You can barely even attempt the few survival tactics they teach you, let alone try and save someone else. You'll end up killing both of you. 

I look and in front of me, not even 2 feet, maybe a little less, is shallow water right up on the shoreline. I can see the little rocks and pebbles and know that if I can just make it there, I'll be ok. I tried with all my might to swim to it but I was caught fighting against the currents. But if I can just make it to the shallow water, I'll be ok... The photographer is yelling at me, NO! Keep your feet up! FEET UP! Around the corner! Around the corner! What the hell do I care what's around the corner, SAVE ME NOW! 

Anthony and I didn't have a choice. The currents swept us up like ragdolls and slammed us into more rocks and between these two cliffs. Apparently this is what the photog meant by around the corner. The most beautiful sight I ever saw was the big yellow boats of the 4 or 5 other crews. Keegan, a guide on another boat, beamed me in the head with the saftey rope. It's a bag filled with about 70 feet of rope that comes out the further out it goes. It felt like simultaneously as I was pelted in the head with this bag, I was sucked under. I'm going to drown. I know it. I'm going to drown. My insides are screaming JUST LET ME FIND THE ROPE! PLEASE! 

Here I am, sucked under water with the sinking reality that I'm going to drown (pardon the pun) and I'm blindly feeling around for the rope. I GOT IT! I feel it tighten and I pop up! I was being pulled on my belly and basically being drown even more and I remember the training where they tell you to flip onto your back. As I flip onto my back, I see my husband come flailing into view. I try to extend my leg for him to grab, knowing in my subconscious that wouldn't work. Someone yells GRAB MY PADDLE and extends the wrong end of the paddle to him. Somehow he grabs it and holds on. We both get pulled into the boat, coughing up our lungs. Someone jokingly (stupidly) asks if we want to go back in and finish the tour. Anthony jumps up, pushing people in the raft out of his way, saying GET. ME. OUT. OF. HERE. He said a bunch of other things along the lines of this isn't fun, he almost drown, he never wants to go in the water again but I was still hacking up all the water so I didn't quite hear it all.

I sit up and ask WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS! Half of my friends were in my boat! Someone tells me the other girl in the boat is ok, I look and see her. Ok, she's ok. Where's everyone else??? And that's when I hear our two other guys are stuck on a rock. The guides were freaking out because they thought they were pinned between two rocks. Turns out they were just holding on for dear life! 

(Above picture: our two friends holding on for dear life to that rock.)

They ended up coming loose and being rescued. Hearing my crew was ok was such a relief! 

And that's when about 4 people got in my face and started questioning me. I don't know what you're saying, I don't care! I'm alive! I didn't drown! I feel like jelly! I'm shaking like a leaf! And then they start asking me about pain. Yes, my low back and hips hurt... Then they started freaking out about a possible spinal injury. I didn't think I had one but they were scaring me. They put a cervical collar on me, strapped me to a straight board (that hurt more than my back did!), and carried me through the woods like He-Men Barbarians. 

I WAS MORTIFIED!! I don't have a single shred of pride and dignity left. 

An awkward bus ride (where they put me on the board on top of the seats), an ambulance ride, an ER visit in which I had to argue with the nurses that they can strip me naked but NOT cut up my Under Armour shirt (it was expensive! Cut the rafting crap, I'm not paying a dime for that!), 260 x-rays, and 3 1/2 hours later, the Dr said I had a lower lumbar/thoracic strain. That means that in a normal person's spine, there is a nice, natural S curve. In me, once you hit about the low back all the way to the tail bone, it's as straight as a rod. The muscles reaction to the unnatural alignment is to tighten up to try and protect the vertebrae. So my muscles in my back and legs are spasming. That doesn't even count the sore ribs, shoulders, arms, and hands. Some of that is normal for rafting, not all of it though.

In the end, I survived, a little worse for wear, swam down Class V (5) rapids on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country, earned my stripes, got the t-shirt, and have a heck of a story to tell.

(Above picture: my friend's dad bought me this t-shirt saying "WARNING! Contents may shift during transport, North Country Rivers, Maine." I plan to draw 2 more stick figures on it to represent the rest of my crew.)

(Above picture: Our rafting group right before we departed Maine.)

Epilogue:

I don't feel as if we were adequately prepared for white water rafting. We were so naive in thinking it was just getting in a boat and paddling through waves. It is SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. It's falling out of the boat that is the most terrifying. You can't panic. You have to keep your cool otherwise you can't think clearly enough to remember the survival skills they taught you. 

Considering that half of our group was beginners, I personally don't think that choosing the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country was a wise idea. Even though the rafting company boasts no experience is needed and that anyone can raft, that's not wise. You learn to walk before you run. It only makes sense for beginners to work their way up to Class V rapids. Can you tell I wasn't the one who planned this trip? 

I'm positive that while the rest of my crew was scared, I am the only one who is still having residual issues about it. I'm having nightmares at night. The first few nights, I woke up thinking I was in the river drowning again. Now, it's like I know I'm going to have a nightmare so I don't sleep very soundly. I'm up almost every hour or two, getting out of bed. Last night, I woke up to my husband shaking me awake, raising his voice CRISTINE! Are you ok! CRISTINE you're hyperventilating! 

My husband is a very heavy sleeper so I can't believe that I was doing something so loudly that it woke him! 

I'm wondering if I would have had a different experience if I had gone rafting before I had Postpartum Depression. I really enjoyed thrill seeking, adrenaline pumping before I had my baby. And  I can't even take the shower water running over my face without my heart racing like I was in the river again! Add on the nightmares and I'm a shaking mess by morning! 

Anthony and I both agree, we would have had a much different experience if we had just stayed in the boat. It's a Catch 22 though. You have to paddle to get yourself out of the rapid otherwise you'll be sucked back in. But the sheer force of the waves coming in is enough toss you out of the boat. It's like a gigantic arm comes out of the water and scoops the crew into It's fist and drops you into the water. 

I'd raft on Class II and III rapids. That's a good place for beginners. But our friends want to go to a MORE difficult river next year. Unwise if there's such a large group of beginners again. But that's just my opinion. Anthony even says he'd raft again if he could just be promised that he wouldn't fall out of the boat. No one can guarantee that though. 

So what do I do? Make myself look like a sissy by voicing all my concerns? Surely, I'm the only one having issues like this. That runs the risk of being excluded from the trip next year. I definitely don't want that to happen. Keep it all pent up inside and risk that it gets worse? Don't say anything and go on a more dangerous river next year and possibly risk more injuries? I don't know thus I am sitting here blogging about it. 

Defining Moment In My Parenting

A couple weeks ago, my husband had to travel for a business trip. Being an IT professional for an insurance company, it's pretty rare that he has to travel. It was a voluntary IT conference that he researched and got permission to attend. All in all, sure it was a pretty sweet deal for him... not for me. It was great personal knowledge and growth as a techy geeky person, great professional growth as an IT professional, not great as a husband and father.

The reason I say that is because I work and don't "stay home" with our little 13 month old. I work Monday, Wednesday, Friday usually about 11-12 hour days. While I'm working, our son goes to daycare. So I'm thinking, Oh My Gosh, what am I going to do!

Besides freaking out about being by myself with Lorenzo and having absolutely no help or relief, I was freaking out due to the daycare's hours. Their hours are shorter than mine so getting my kid to and from there was going to be tricky.

Thankfully, we have an awesome set of friends in our Tuesday Night Dinner crew who picked him up for me and I just had to go to their house to get him. Phewww... what a load of my mind, let me tell you! Matt and Amanda are amazing! They even have a little boy a little older than Lorenzo so they got to play together. Lorenzo went home with them, ate his dinner, got a bath, changed into jammies, and played until I got there. All Mama had to do was literally pick him up out of the car seat and put him into his crib, thank God! So my worries about the picking him up thing were all put to ease. But that didn't solve dropping him off...

It takes me about 20 minutes to get to work from where I live. But if I leave at the wrong time, it could take me as long as an hour to drive the 5 miles to the highway on-ramp! So dropping Lorenzo off to daycare adds an extra 20 minutes to my commute. And that's not even factoring in any chit chat time with the director. I had to think this through... What was my game plan going to be?? After much thought, this is what I came up with.

5:00am- Alarm is going off
5:30am- Roll out of bed to shower
5:45am- Get ready for work
6:00am- Pack my lunch
6:15am- Gather work bag, lunch bag, diaper bag, daycare bag of stuff needed, and walk them to the care while I walk the dog
6:30am- Feed the dog, drink a glass of juice, change the baby
6:40am- Put the dog in the crate and leave

Before you even begin to wonder, yes, I most certainly DID stick to that rigid timeline and I wasn't late. And this doesn't even factor in all the prep work I did the night before to make sure everything was ready. I had to gather everything the daycare needed like wipes, diapers, clothes, etc, make the bottles, make my lunch, gather my stuff, etc. Doing all that made it so much easier to just grab everything I needed in the morning.

Well, I made it to the daycare by 6:55am, knowing I have to be on my way no later than 7:10am so I can still have time to get my usual morning Mocha Frappé from McDonalds, all the while wondering if they'll even let me drop him off 5 minutes before they technically open.

I pull up and see all the lights off. (What the heck, aren't they open at 7am?? They better be open at 7am! I have to be at work by 7:45am! I get Lorenzo, his stuff, and walk up to the doors. Definitely locked with lights off. Crap. What am I going to do?!)

As I turn around, someone drives up. A girl that I don't know and have never met comes up to me saying someone got stuck in traffic and something about a fire. Huh, what? I'm not listening because I'm too busy staring at your blonde and red hair mixture. She reaches for Lorenzo saying she'd take him and telling me to go because I'll be late. (I don't know you and you're taking my kid out of my arms... Yes, I WILL be late if I stay until someone I know shows up but still... I don't know you!!) I don't take Lorenzo to daycare usually either. (Maybe she's been working here and Anthony never told me. I don't want to say anything, I mean, it's pretty common knowledge that what gets said to Anthony doesn't make it to my ears... What do I do?!)

I'm having an internal battle. 

I tell her he hasn't eaten yet but has had a diaper change. She assures me the director is on her way, there was a fire on her street so she got caught in some traffic (Ohhh so THAT's what you were saying...), she repeats that I'm going to be late and that they will be fine.

As I drive away, I call Anthony and leave him a very indecisive voicemail about the occurrence. I make it to work feeling even more unsettled. I glance down at my dashboard and it's 48 degrees outside. I left my child with a stranger (to me), only wearing jeans and a long sleeve onesie with a blanket wrapped around him, without having been fed for the morning.

OH. MY. GOD. If Anthony had done that, I would have been REALLY upset with him. THAT is when I realized I made the wrong decision. I should have just stayed until someone I knew showed up. But I didn't want to be that parent that acted like I didn't trust them. I didn't want to be that parent all the workers roll their eyes at. I didn't want to be late to work.

I made it to work with my Frappé in hand, still feeling all out of sorts, had a ton of messages from the middle of the night, patients showed up before our office was even technically open. I was very busy and was absorbed in my own thoughts. Before I knew it, I had a very upset director on the phone with me, apologizing profusely, and nearly in tears. Lorenzo is her favorite baby in daycare. She was as upset as if it were her own son. I wasn't mad at her and completely understood the circumstances. I was mad at myself for doing something I wasn't comfortable with. I was angry that I succumbed to what was "socially acceptable" and what I thought was the "normal thing other parents do." Ladies and gentlemen, Mother Of The Year Award, right there! I felt as if I took 3 steps backward with my Postpartum Depression.

At the end of the day, I learned to go with my gut instinct. If I'm not comfortable with something concerning my child, I shouldn't and won't do it! It doesn't matter what other people think as long as I'm secure in the decisions I've made and my parenting choices! I have to own up to every decision I make, I want to be sure that I don't regret them and if that means being late to work and forgoing my Mocha Frappé to ensure my child's safety so be it. 

For Lorenzo

Even though I use Facebook and this blog as an outlet, I do not post some of the deepest darkest feelings I have. It's eating me up inside to not voice them. I thought if I could just write them down, I'd feel better. But I didn't want my innermost thoughts and feelings to be on some old legal pad.... and that's when my mind started brainstorming...

I went to Papyrus in the mall today. I looked over each and every journal they had. And I finally picked a very pretty glittery one with a beautifully colored hummingbird on it. I bought the journal ($20 for a friggen journal, are you kidding me?!) and some scented pens. (I have a MAJOR pen fetish!! I collect any and all pens. I've been known to take them from doctors offices and even from my family and friends.) These pens were scented on the outside. One was strawberry and the other bubblegum. They smell exactly like Bubbalicious Bubble Gum and make me crave a piece! :)

I walked to a seating area and I took out the strawberry pen and the journal. I stared at the beautiful cover and turned the pages. After a minute or so, I wrote in the front cover, "For my son Lorenzo. May you read this and find insight into your crazy, fun loving, emotional mother! I Love You With All My Heart! <3 Mama."

It took me a while to write down what I was thinking and feeling at that moment in time. I was extremely hurt and angry. Still am. It took everything in me not to let tears come to my eyes in public. I wrote about the stressful events that took place the past 2 days, vindictive words spoken, hurtful actions. I wrote how it all effected me with my PPD. I reassured my son that he did not cause me this PPD and that it is not a result of having him. I proudly proclaimed my love for my son and that he is the very best thing to have happened in my life!

I imagined in my mind, Lorenzo in his mid-twenties (like myself) reading this and finally understanding his crazy mother. I wrote that perhaps we can look at this 20 years from now and say look at what we've overcome. Perhaps we'll look at some entries and say look at that, knowing whatever it was got the best of us. I just want to be able to have something to look back at.

I'm keeping this secret from my husband. I don't want him to read it. It's personal. Something for my son and myself. He'd probably be mad at what I'm writing, never wanting to disclose all that info to our son. But I think he should know. I want him to know. It will help him understand us and our dynamic and relationship. He should know. He needs to know.

Self Esteem Boost

I feel compelled as a mother to encourage all the other mommies out there!


You are a beautiful, intelligent woman! It is time to stop looking and feeling like a crumpled and frumpled hot mess!!


It is about time to start doing things for yourself so you look AND feel good! Others may think you look great but if you don't appreciate yourself, it won't matter what they say. If everyone else around me says that I look good but I don't FEEL that way, it doesn't matter. All those wonderful compliments are falling on deaf ears.Because my attitude towards myself was very poor, everyone else around me stopped trying to reassure and compliment me because it didn't work. 


When YOU love yourself, it shows! Everyone else will notice and love you FOR YOU even more!

For me, it's covering up the really bad acne scars, wearing flattering clothing (to hide the baby roll), doing my hair nice, smelling pretty, and shedding a couple pounds to try and flatten that baby roll. Because when I feel pretty, I can conquer the world!!

I know exactly where you're at Mama.

Do whatever it is that you need to do to appreciate yourself! Whether it's doing your hair nicely, wearing clothes that flatter the post baby body, buying a push up bra (Say "Hello" to the girls because it's been a while since you've last seen them there!), losing a few pounds, flattening that baby roll with diet and/or exercising, getting more sleep, whitening or straightening your teeth, getting a massage or mani/pedi; whatever it is: JUST GO DO IT! 


This isn't go to be easy but it'll be well worth it!

You'll have to save up some extra cash so you can go shopping for some post baby clothes. Whether you're in a transition phase after having baby or even if it's been a year or more, you'll need clothes that properly fit your new baby bearing body. You're a mom now. It doesn't mean that you can dress like a teenager. You need sophisticated and properly fitting clothes. You can still be sexy without having to flaunt those big nursing jugs of yours. There's a difference between showing a little cleavage and baring those breasts to the world! Let's try to keep them covered. Wear something that's trimming across the midsection and pants and skirts that fit your new wider hips. It's the wrong size if it cuts into you too deeply. Muffin tops are unattractive and scream to the world that you're holding onto your youth in a negative way!

Make the extra effort to get up early to shower and get ready while everyone else is still sleeping. You'll have peace and quiet. Go get a cup of coffee or mocha frappe and take the time to invest in your appearance for today. Don't just throw that wet hair up in a messy bun! Take the time to blow dry it today. Scrunch it or straighten it. Maybe twist some of it back off your face. How about a nice curly bun?

Once your hair is done, go to your closet and pick out some of those nice post baby flattering clothes we talked about. Don't forget the personal hygiene products! Glob on the lotion and get that skin smooth as a baby's bottom! Don't forget the deodorant and perfume! Now that you're dressed with your hair down, how about some accessories? A simple watch, bracelet, necklace, headband can be all you need to make your outfit feel complete. Maybe a hair accessory? Or painting your nails and toes could be all you need to complete your look. Perhaps you wear makeup. If you do, allow plenty of time in your schedule to be able to shower, dress, do your hair, and apply the makeup. You don't want to feel rushed during this time.

Now, don't you feel confidant? You look in the mirror and say, "I can do this! I am prepared! I can conquer the world!!" Looking the part is half the battle and you are already there Mama!! It took some time but it is WORTH every minute when you look in the mirror at the finished product! Looking good makes you FEEL good which raises your confidence level!!

If you happen to be reading this and you are not a mother but a spouse or significant other to a Mama (especially one who has PPD) then this is what you absolutely NEED to know: All of the compliments that you've been giving have not been taken in. The "Honey, you look good, I like your curves, You're beautiful the way you are, Our baby made you that way, you should be proud" and all the other things like that, were not being taken as the compliment that you meant them. This is not what the Mama of your child(ren) needs. Instead, trying telling her how important it is to you how she FEELS about the way she looks! Reassure her that you want her to do whatever it is that she needs to do in order to feel comfortable with her body and appearance. Tell her you love her body but love HER more! Tell her you want HER to be happy with who she is so YOU as a couple can be happy!

PPD- Anger

A big realization that hit me in the face at our last counseling session was that I DO NOT have the right to call my husband names, snarl and growl at him, and downright curse him out.

Now, I need to explain this further so that everyone who reads this doesn't jump to conclusions about me...

Some women are super emotional and crying and sad when they go through their Baby Blues or Postpartum Depression. Not me! I get very angry, very quickly! The best way to describe it is like a ticking time bomb or the way that you feel when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed… now multiply that feeling times 10 and that's me on a constant basis. And the counselor guessed correctly when she said, "And you direct all this anger and frustration at your husband." Yeah, I guess I do. 

It's like I have 2 different personalties; like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. There's the me that feels normal, like I did before I had the baby. And then there's the PPD me that screams, snarls, growls, and overreacts to everything- even the small stuff!! The PPD me screams over dishes not being rinsed before they go into the dishwasher, wearing dirty shoes in my house, not using the placemats on my table, not separating the laundry, or rinsing poop stains out of the baby's clothes… stuff that would normally be annoying or that would make you mad- the PPD me gets OUTRAGED, INFURIATED!! And that's not who I am! 

During those times when I'm foaming at the mouth, I usually end up calling him horrible names, saying mean and derogatory things, and scream to be left alone. Then I go off and stress clean. I know I'm doing it and can't stop myself. Almost like my mind is saying, "What are you doing?! You're screaming over nothing! STOP! STOP!" and yet I can't. This is what PPD is. 

Now, it does not mean that every time I am angry, I'm overreacting and unfounded. It doesn't mean that when I'm normal I don't get angry. But I am speaking specifically of the PPD times when I'm so flaming pissed that I could start a fire with my gaze.

The counselor put it into perspective for me. She asked me if I'd ever speak to my friends or family that way. No, I wouldn't do that! She asked me if I would ever speak to my boss or co-workers that way. NEVER!! She looked at me with her head tilted in thought, brow furrowed, and said quizzically, "Then why do you speak to your husband that way?!" Honestly, I don't know. He's there and an outlet, I guess.

In no uncertain terms, she let me know I DO NOT have the right to speak to ANYONE that way, especially my husband. She said that people often times speak to and treat their spouses in ways that are much less respectful than if they were speaking/treating their friends, family, and co-workers. She said that it may be because we feel more comfortable with our spouse so we feel we can "let em have it" so to speak. 

The counselor said it best, "If you talk to your spouse the way you would speak to someone else, there will be alot less negativity coming out of your mouth." And I have to say, I agree! And I'm working towards speaking kindly!

My Cooking/Baking Therapy

The quickest thing I learned about becoming a mom is that NOTHING is predetermined by me!! Everything is on the baby's time; eating, sleeping, pooping, playing, EVERYTHING! I quickly realized I can't even go poo on my own time!! So I'd wait to go to the bathroom until I knew I could pee and poo in peace!! LOL If the baby suddenly and unexpectedly started screaming while I was on the john and my husband came a-knocking, I'd shout back, "Can't a woman poo in PEACE!" LOL ;)

Every PPD woman NEEDS an outlet, for her safety and sanity and those of her family and friends. It can be anything, taking a leisurely shower or walk, scheduling a spa and massage day, shopping, scrapbooking, cooking, baking, blogging, SOMETHING! Whatever it is, make sure you MAKE time to do it. Give the baby to someone else for a determined amount of time and go do what you love!! It is sooo important for the PPD woman to gain back that sense of self she loses when she has a child. That sense of self I'm speaking of is the independent decision making she loses when everything is on baby's time.

Knowing all this, I decided to do something for ME, for no one else but purely for MY enjoyment. And it's become my therapy on rough PPD days. :)

For me, it became cooking and baking. I've been married 2 years as of Sept 6th, 2010. I didn't even know how to boil pasta when we came home from the honeymoon and here I am 2 years later, competent and CONFIDANT in the kitchen! I am sooo proud to say that! :)

Almost immediately after we got married, we realized we were friendless, so to speak. We had moved from Upstate NY to CT and didn't really know anyone. So it became my goal to have people over my house for dinner every week so we could get to know people.So what started as having 1 person come over 2 years ago has now spanned into a weekly Tuesday Night Dinner with 12-14 of us! :) Cooking for The Crew (as we refer to us), has given me reason to learn how to cook and expand my cooking repertoire to fit everyone's taste palates. Keeping in mind that one person is a vegan, one doesn't eat veggies, one doesn't eat pork, one doesn't eat chicken or pork has forced me to get creative at times and I LOVE IT! I've grown to live for Tuesday Night Dinners. It gave me a reason to get in the shower and get dressed, force myself into a good attitude and not bite people's heads off! LOL

I felt most like my pre-baby self when I hosted dinner and cooked enough for an army (did I mention I cook for mostly guys that eat ALOT?!)... So, we ended up hosting dinner a few weeks in a row and I even went so far as to invite people over for dinner other nights of the week, too. It got to the point that I was hosting dinner 3 times a week for a month or two. My wallet didn't appreciate it none but my husband got so sick of the mood swings, he said if hosting made me feel normal then let's have people over every night of the week! LOL

On my most terrible days, I'd look up some (in my opinion) extravagant new recipes to try and head to the store for ingredients then kick everyone outta the kitchen, yelling, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" and whip up a masterpiece! It's become my therapy. The sense of accomplishment I feel when I create something new, from scratch, makes me feel WONDERFUL and PROUD! I get such a great boost of confidence when I taste something amazing I created! But the biggest confidence builder for me is when others try my food and want left overs! As a (at times) severly PPD woman, my self esteem gets very low and I think all the compliments I receive for my cooking and baking is (in part) why I love to do it so much! I feel so good about myself afterwards! Knowing that I can bring a bright spot to someone's day with my food gives me a sense of purpose and in turn, brings back a sense of self.

So whatever it is that you are passionate about, from one PPD woman to another, GO DO IT and do it with pride!! :)

**Mini Cherry Cheesecake Bites pictured below

What the Heck is WRONG with me?!

I've taken numerous pregnancy tests the whole (nearly) first year I was married, mostly just as a sick and twisted joke on my husband. So when I took this one (that ended up being THE ONE), I was nervous like always but overall expected it to end up negative. I mean, c'mon; what's all the nausea, tiredness, cramping, peeing every 30 minutes mean- that's normal right?! ;)


Well, long story short, August 12th, 2010 it was positive!! After 4 hours of bawling my eyes out and scheduling a blood test with the doctor (and crying all over the poor receptionist), I for sure was prego. My husband's brain crumbled before my eyes when I told him and together we felt like life as we knew it was OVER! And, of course, it was. 


After a difficult and stressful pregnancy, many family and life problems, and even purchasing our first home (condo) a week before the baby was born... Lorenzo Raphael Viggiano was born on April 9th, 2010!!


My husband and I experienced all the normal joys of being new, young parents. Our families came to visit a few times and everyone we knew annoyed us to some extent with the "advice." I had no idea why the nurses and doctors kept talking about "Baby Blues" because I never experienced anything like them. For the first month, maybe month and a half, I always had someone with me to help and give me a break of some sort. The first week, my husband took a vacation from work. The second week, he worked from home. The third week, my in-laws came to visit for a week. The fourth week, we went to our hometowns in Upstate New York for a week. 


And then... it happened!!!


By the time my son, Baby Enzo as we call him, was 1.5 months old, I started noticing things about myself: no motivation, easily saddened, lack of appetite, short temper, lack of personal care, anxiety, low self esteem, self-consciousness, trouble sleeping, mood swings, and imagining horrific accidents happening to my family or the baby. I had no idea what all this was adding up to! No one, not a single doctor, nurse, or person I knew had mentioned anything to me about this. I heard alot about Baby Blues but knew I didn't experience any crying or sadness within the first 2 weeks. 


I suffered with all these emotions and feelings (or lack thereof) for about another month. By the time I went to see the doctor, Baby Enzo was about 2.5 months old. I saw the doctor maybe 4 or 5 more times and she basically told me that what I was feeling was soon developing into severe Postpartum Depression and other than prescribing medicine, she couldn't help me.  She said I needed to see a psychiatrist. Way to make me feel like a nutter!


PPD is defined as: A form of severe depression after delivery that requires treatment. It is sometimes said that postpartum depression (PPD) occurs within 4 weeks of delivery but it can happen a few days or even months after childbirth. A woman with PPD may have feelings similar to the baby blues -- sadness, despair, anxiety, irritability -- but she feels them much more strongly than she would with the baby blues. PPD often keeps her from doing the things she needs to do every day. When a woman's ability to function is affected, this is a sure sign that she needs treatment. If a woman does not get treatment for PPD, it can get worse and last for as long as a year. While PPD is a serious condition, it can be effectively treated with antidepressant medications and counseling.


**link posted**


Reluctantly, I tried an antidepressant for about a week and a half. I decided this wasn't for me because I never take medicine and "felt funny" on it. For some people, antidepressants are just what they need to feel NORMAL, like themselves again. For me, this wasn't the case. Each person is different and there is no right or wrong way. What works for some may not work for others. Instead, I've been doing what I can to try and better my physical health by eating healthy, walking, getting chiropractic adjustments, and taking vitamins and supplements to balance the hormonal changes inside of me. To better my mental health and for the purpose of accountability, my husband and I are seeing a licensed marriage and family counselor that my OBGYN suggested. In fact, I will be seeking the medical/professional help that I, as an individual need, by getting counseling on an individual basis.


The most important thought I'd like to leave you with today is that Postpartum Depression isn't a disease and it is most certainly curable! If you are a woman dealing with PPD and feel too ashamed to admit it to anyone, go to your doctor. It is of the utmost importance that the issues related to PPD be addressed and dealt with, not only for your mental health and safety but that of your family and baby, as well. You are not alone! 15-25% of women suffer from the same things you do! Talk to someone, it will help! If you are a loved one of someone suffering from PPD, the most important thing you can do is learn all you can about PPD so you can try to understand and be patient. Your loved one isn't some nut job that belongs in a looney bin, she's just an extremely hormonal woman that doesn't know what is wrong or how to cope, at the moment. Above all else, if you or a loved one feels like hurting yourself, the baby, or other people, CALL 911 IMMEDIATELY! 


http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=26211