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Sticky Yellow Suns
Welcome! I'm thrilled to start this blog here to share news and other thoughts with you. This first entry is something I wrote a few years back, thinking about those early days of parenting. One of the reasons I am so passionate about supporting new parents, particularly those struggling with depression or anxiety, is that I once was one myself. I know how hard that road is. I also know it's possible to make it, one step at a time. If you are struggling, take heart. I see you. I see your exhaustion and your strength. And I am here to remind you that it gets better.
Sticky Yellow Suns
About a year ago, another postpartum depression survivor and I joked that there should be an “It Gets Better” campaign for new parents. That’s probably a pretty good idea.
I remember feeling such despair in those early times. I constantly wondered, 'What have I done to my life? Will I ever feel capable, happy, or able to sleep again?'
At that point my son was all take and very little give, as babies are (and are designed to be). It was many months before we would even get a smile.
Daily life was hard-going. I knew the cultural message very well. As a mother I shouldn’t need any thanks or reward. I was supposed to love these times. But I didn’t. Those early days were bitter days.
Now that screaming, not-sleeping baby is almost two. And yesterday, he gave me a fist of sticky dandelions he pulled from a crack in the front sidewalk. I waited a long time, lost much sleep and sanity helping those little hands grow big enough to present me with a handful of bright yellow blossoms. I would give anything to be able to go back in time, to that woman I was two years ago, push these weeds into her hands and say, “This is hard. I know you are hurting. I promise you, you can get through this. And oh sweet mama, it gets so much better.”
