Tag Archives: depression

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When I Should Feel Joy #2: Post-Partum Depression

…One nurse caught me in a weak, tearful moment and gruffly asked, “Are you depressed?!” I pulled it together enough to sternly pronounce, “No. I am a counselor. I would know if I were depressed.”

She backed off.

And I backed into my shell…

An excerpt from my previous post: When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared.  

When one clams up, whatever is inside will find its way out, one way or another.

At first my insides came out as tears. They weren’t tears of joy or tears of sadness or tears of sentiment. They were tears of pain. I tried not to think about my time in the hospital when I felt helpless and invisible. But inevitably one thing or another would catch me off guard and I would be right back in the pain and embarrassment of giving birth. My mind and body’s natural inclination was to cave in on itself when this would happen. I couldn’t always curl up in a fetal position to protect myself from the outside world, but I wanted to. Nothing I did could really fend off the feeling of pain. And other than my averted eyes and the occasional admission that I was having a tough time adjusting to having two kids, most people had no indication I was suffering.

And then I started fighting.

I got better at preparing for the certain reminders of my helplessness and invisibility by scanning my environment for threats. That’s when I took up verbal boxing. After throwing a couple of punches, I realized boxing felt WAY better than laying down and taking hits. Adrenaline-anger made me strong. And anger kept people away – especially my family, the most likely people to touch the black and blue inside of me. I’m not typically a mean person, but blame allowed me to validate my anger. I began to believe that I was the center of a deep conspiracy: Everyone – do everything you can to make life hard for Andrea. It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t have to make sense. It just had to be a reason to thrust me out of helpless tears into powerful anger.

My internal equilibrium was incredibly fragile, so anything unexpected threw me off. Anyone asking something of me felt like a jab I had to dodge.

Baby waking.

Supper burning.

Milk spilling.

How DARE they ask anything of me! I can’t take it. Make it STOP!  And so I would verbally jab back:

PLEASE go back to sleep!

I’m sorry I’m such a horrible cook!

Stupid dog!

I hate thinking about it. I loved my husband and kids, but the joy I expected to feel after having a second baby felt like a pipe-dream. It’s not supposed to be like this!

If you only saw me in the boxing ring, you would have no idea that the only reason I was fighting was in order to access a strength that pushed back on the hits that threatened to knock me out. It was all I had.

It certainly felt that way.

Praying you might tuck these in your heart today:

  1. (from When I Should…#1) Joy is what I felt I should feel after giving birth, so I hid my pain. But honestly, most women struggle. My expectations for what “I should feel” made it harder to accept the pain and sadness I experienced.
  2. Clamming up did not help me, my kids or my husband because: When one clams up, whatever is inside will find its way out, one way or another. And usually someone gets hurt.
  1. Every loud sound and every sudden movement felt like an attack on my entire being. I felt every tear my babies cried and every posture of confused defeat when my husband came close. That’s why it seemed like a conspiracy. I was completely overwhelmed and fragile. I had no buffer to absorb the blows that threw me off. I have come to know this fragility as sensitivity. Do you ever feel that way? (I have much more to say on this topic. Please come back for more.)
  1. I didn’t feel better when I was angry, but the adrenaline that pumped gave me energy. I have since come to believe that: SAD IS UNDER ANGRY. I have not yet come across an exception. I was definitely angry, but I put anger on top of my sadness. I chose it over tears. I don’t have to choose anger. You don’t, either. There is Comfort to be found but it is not found while boxing…unless you come across a beautiful soul who will let you beat on their chest until you collapse into their arms. I believe God does that. Probably a better choice than taking the fight to the people we love.

Clam Up

This picture is my wink-nudge-nudge. Know where I took it?!

When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared

When I Should Feel Joy #2: Postpartum Depression

When I Should Feel Joy #3: Shame

When I Should Feel Joy #4: True Love

When I Should Feel Joy #5: Deeper Joy

11 Steps to Prevent and Fight Depression

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When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared

After my initial post “Frozen Top Ten”, a few beautiful people asked me to share more about my experience with depression – specifically, post partum depression. My reflections on this story are too long for one blog post. This is not just for women. It is not just for parents. I offer this series in honor of anyone who suffers and feels alone. And I offer it to those who might have experienced or have loved ones experiencing difficulties as young parents.

Our experience having our first child was joyful. Yes, we went to the hospital and were sent home and then induced the next day. Yes, I had back labor and eventually had an epidural. Yes, the epidural helped half of my back more than the other half. But, YES! We were rested and ready! We were very excited to welcome Amelia into the world to the tune of “Testify to Love.” Happy. For a long time, there was happy.

Then around December in our second pregnancy, I was incredibly uncomfortable. The demands of my body and a 1 ½ year old were wearing on me. Looking back, I believe this is where depression set in. Five months later, it was time to have our second baby. We went in for a check up one morning and were told to come back to the hospital around 5:00 p.m. so they could induce and deliver that night. We didn’t think much of the request at the time. Our doctor would conveniently be on call and my body was indicating that it was a good time. We started the process around 6. I settled into the whirlpool and Aaron settled into the Lakers game. What came next was fast and furious. I realized very quickly that I wanted the pain meds I had previously hoped to do without. And I wanted them BAD. They never came. I will spare you the details.

Here’s what I felt I lost in the next few hours:

  • My voice. I had plans for how this birthing process would work, but when things got rolling, nurses were (what felt like) dragging me to the bed and telling me what to do. I felt like they were making decisions for me. They acted like the epidural would come, even though they knew it was too late. I felt like a child.
  • My emotional stability. It took me a few months to realize this, but I discussed it with a friend-psychologist and we determined that I likely had a panic attack during labor. I literally thought I would AND thought it would be better if I would just die in labor. I feel bad even saying that. But it’s true. I’m going to say it because maybe I’m not the only one.
  • My dignity. I felt incredibly exposed and ashamed of my volume, tone and word choice as I cried out and writhed in pain.
  • My self-respect. When all was said and done, I felt I had failed this natural birth thing. I didn’t overcome anything or feel empowered like some women do. I felt dragged and beaten and terrified and discarded. That is also really hard to say.              *Big Breath*
  • My ability to move. For a long time (maybe an hour, I don’t really know) after birth, I couldn’t relax my awkwardly positioned body. I continued to experience pain after pain and I didn’t have the wherewithal to ask for pain medication for quite some time.
  • My husband’s respect. This is a tough one, but it is real. I felt my loss of control had embarrassed him. I couldn’t look him in the eye for fear of the disappointment I was sure I would see.
  • Sleep. Grant was born at 11:45 p.m. They took us to our room around 1:00 a.m. and I did not sleep. I lay there tense and in shock, all night long. No one knew. I didn’t sleep well for months.

The next couple of days in the hospital were a struggle as I attempted to feel and act like I felt as joyful as I did when Amelia was born. One nurse caught me in a weak, tearful moment and gruffly asked, “Are you depressed?!” I pulled it together enough to sternly pronounce, “No. I am a counselor. I would know if I were depressed.”

She backed off.

And I backed into my shell.

I pray you will tuck these insights into your heart:

  1. I rejected help. I think I was so embarrassed from the experience that I refused to accept or seek help. I closed up like a clam – hard and tight. But I was a wreck on the inside. If you feel as I did, please open yourself to help. Reach out to someone you trust in your head – even if your heart feels it can’t trust at all. 
  1. I was unable to be my own advocate. Sometimes people break down and are unable to speak for themselves – even “strong” people. We were not prepared for this to happen. If you know someone who is closed like a clam, be curious! They may act like they don’t want your help, but if you offer it tenderly, confidently, respectfully and consistently; they just might let you in.
  2. Joy is what I felt I should feel after giving birth, so I hid my pain. But honestly, most women struggle. My expectations for what “I should feel” made it harder to accept the pain and sadness I experienced.

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Our beautiful, worth-every-bit-of-it kids (a few years back).

Friends,

Working on this piece reminds me how troubling this season of our parenting experience was. It has been a while since I shared this intensely personal and vulnerable story with anyone. I believe that is why most parents do not share their emotionally traumatic birthing stories or the pain they experience afterward.

I believe that is why I must.

I do not claim to be an expert in the area of depression. I share my reflections of our experience but if you are concerned that you or a loved one is depressed, please inform your doctor (or encourage them to inform theirs) – especially if you are pregnant.

Love,

Andrea Joy

When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared

When I Should Feel Joy #2: Postpartum Depression

When I Should Feel Joy #3: Shame

When I Should Feel Joy #4: True Love

When I Should Feel Joy #5: Deeper Joy

11 Tips to Prevent and Fight Depression

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An Extra-Special-Kind-Of-Sensitive

This morning our youngest was an extra-special-kind-of whiny and clingy. He didn’t want to run errands with dad or go to preschool, which was out of character. “I want to be with you, mom.”

And then I remembered: I was a mess yesterday. I felt overwhelmed with all of my failings and an extra-special-kind-of sensitive to perceived criticism. And when I am a mess, the next day our youngest is a mess. I hate it when my emotional intensity comes out in ways that negatively impact others. I have more thoughts on this subject, but for now…

I want to share a little ebook I made. It is a short, illustrated poem. It takes just a minute and is free to read.  I read it again tonight and was encouraged by a vision greater than my mess. Click on the link at the bottom of this post (not the picture) to view the book.

Enjoy.  And share.

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Illustrated by, PascalCampion

Link:   http://storybird.com/books/the-dreamer-121/

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Frozen Top Ten

Frozen had a huge impact on me. So much so that it took me a year to work through my feelings and finally get it out.

And I’m not 8 years old.

That’s the beauty of art, isn’t it? It has the potential to transcend age and gender and culture and every other distinguishing barrier between people. Art digs deep into our guts and pulls out our humanity — allowing us to connect with anyone else who has guts too. So friends, are you willing to dig in? I give you my humanity: the top ten (of about 156) reasons Disney’s Frozen changed my life.

10. I love a good surprise. I had NO CLUE this movie would be anything other than a tolerable fluffy children’s movie about a cute snowman and a reindeer, let alone a life-altering inspiration for me. I was shocked as the movie transitioned from Cinderella’s castle to a dark, deep and beautiful land.

9.  Apparently “Do You Want To Build A Snowman” almost didn’t make the last cut. I am incredibly grateful it did. Our son has an internal alarm clock that wakes him hours before mine does. My loss of sleep the first four years of his life made for a lot of physical and emotional pain for me (and thus probably for everyone else in our family). The week Frozen hit theaters, he was waking his sister up at 5:00 in the morning to play and I was beside myself about it. When I saw Anna whisper “do you wanna build a snowman?!” to Elsa, I lost it. The entire song-sequence includes the loss of their friendship the loss of their parents and the quick passing of their childhood. Talk about putting things into perspective! Even as I type this I’m holding back tears (since I’m in a coffee shop!). I will be forever grateful for the opportunity to grasp and then embrace the innocence and beauty and friendship my children share. I still want them to sleep more, but I’m learning to sit and enjoy and appreciate them even when they disrupt my well-laid plans. So thankful for this.

8.  Frozen not only has songs in it, it is a musical of Broadway proportions. When I first heard Idina Menzel belt out “tell the guards to open up the gates,” I started to bawl. It’s one thing to sing out. It’s totally another thing to sing Idina. I grew up singing my heart out – often wondering if I should be quiet since people would sometimes stare or say things that embarrassed me. Most of the time I didn’t want attention, I just wanted to sing what was in me. What was in me was so intense that expressing it often felt too loud – like I was seeking attention. I often held something back. Then through postpartum depression that stretched into a couple of years, I was left without a song in my heart. I didn’t sing spontaneously. I didn’t sing hardly at all for over 4 years. When I first recognized Idina’s voice, I heard another voice say “This movie is a gift to you, Andrea. Receive it.” And so I opened myself to whatever it would bring.

7. Frozen’s emotional, artistic tendrils reached into cold and lonely places of my heart that I had abandoned in order to survive the necessary-mundane. Elsa has a beautiful gift that can enhance and bring joy to others’ lives. But even Elsa has her limits and sometimes using her gift causes big problems and relational strife. The wide range and intensity of her emotional, internal world directly impacts the expression of her gift in her life. She bears a great weight, knowing that her emotions impact others so powerfully. When the people around Elsa don’t know what to do with her, they silence and cover her. In effect they say, “You are too much. Your emotional instability is dangerous to us all.” Despite having an amazing family and support system growing up, I have always felt that I am too much. Like an iceberg, there is this part of me on the surface that I allow people to see and there is way more under the surface that I believe most people can’t or don’t want to handle. I’ve grown a ton in my ability to invite people to see the deeper parts of me in the past 12 years, but there always lingers a fear that if I start to express the intensity of my emotional world, people will shrug me off with “you think too much” and tidy me up with a trite “just give it to God” while never touching or seeing the depths of who I am as a woman. The movie gave me the opportunity to feel – intensely. In some ways it felt like waking up.

6. Oh, Olaf. Even Elsa has within her a certain capacity for innocence and faith and hope and love and sacrifice. She created the snow monster to keep people away, but her creation of Olaf proves that deep down, she most wants to enter into and celebrate the beauty of relationship.

5. “Let It Go” has become a beautiful anthem for self-expression. I love the song and singing it Idina – style has become the kind of goal for me that running a personal record in a marathon is for my racing friends. I still get chills every time I watch Elsa run up the ice stairs she creates as she sings “It’s time to see what I can do….I’m one with the wind and sky…” Sometimes I wonder if I could test the limits and break through. It’s astounding to think that my emotional, internal reality could potentially build an ice castle.

4. On the other hand, I know I can throw ice. I don’t mean to most of the time. Anna pushes Elsa’s emotional limits at the Coronation Ball and later in her ice castle. Elsa warns Anna that she needs to leave – she feels the intensity rising in herself and knows that if the pressure continues to build, she will burst. And burst, she did! And burst, I do. I HATE it. I HATE it when the internal pressure in me builds and then others are around to see the scary ice show. It’s terrifying for me and probably for them. I have been researching emotional sensitivity for the past 4 years and when I saw Frozen, I knew I had finally found the perfect example to explain what goes on inside of me. It was scary to see Elsa erupt in dangerous, icy defense. And it was eye opening for me to see how others experience it. I could genuinely say “I don’t want to hurt others, I want to relate to them in love instead of the fear that comes with the sensitivities I experience. I want more.”

3. Oh how I love Anna. She pursues a relationship with her sister at any cost to herself. Her naiveté is endearing. As someone who identifies so much with Elsa, it is hard for me to understand how Anna could diminish her own value and elevate Elsa’s so much. To me, Elsa is nothing but a hot mess without Anna. Anna is the hero. Anna is the inspiration. Anna is love. Anna’s actual loving sacrifice of self is the key to unlocking Elsa’s real power – love in relationship. I hate to think about where I would be without the Anna’s in my life. It wouldn’t be pretty.

2. For months I’ve wanted to shout this: “Let It Go is only a step in Elsa’s journey – it is not the end goal!” When Elsa tests those limits, she breaks right through them and creates an astonishing ice castle that only ELSA can live in. When Elsa lets it go, she explores her abilities and in the process she isolates herself. It’s cool to visit an ice castle, but where does one sleep? A philosopher/theologian can make amazing connections in her head but if she can’t share them with others, she is quite alone. Fear that others won’t understand – fear that others will run when she says her thoughts out loud – fear that she will offend or hurt others…these fears have kept me mostly quiet for a long time. I’ve learned a lot about tact and honesty and being considerate in my time exploring my own little ice castle, and I am very thankful for that. But there comes a time to come down from the mountain and offer one’s gift to the world with a balance of honesty and love. The world doesn’t need a bunch of ice castles, but ice rinks can be fun. Just ask everyone in Arendelle at the end of the movie. “Are you ready?” says Elsa with a gentle smile and nothing to prove. It is this scene, more than any other, that moves me. I feel called out in that scene. Nothing to prove. Time to share in honesty and love, without demand that others understand or stay or not be hurt.

The gift of ice magic is selfish and demanding when fear rules, but when love overcomes fear, it is a gift that can meet others right where they are and offers whatever it most wants to offer.

1. And so it is time for me to sing my heart out. To throw awesome parties. To write. To teach. To make kids feel special. To offer what I most want to offer without demanding anyone receive it. I had the Frozen soundtrack downloaded by the time we got home from the theater for the first time. I plugged my phone into the kitchen speaker and the kids and I sang and danced our hearts out for what felt like hours. Aaron even joined in when he saw what was happening. I’d never shown my kids such joy mixed with tears and love. Since then they have grown immeasurably in their own self-expression and love for the arts. I finally gave this gift to my kids – my family. Had I held it in, I may have unintentionally hurt them by uninspiring them to hold back.

DSC_0590Photo by Christina Klausen Photography     www.christinaklausenphotography.com

Thanks for hanging with me through my top 10 list. I hope to offer more on these topics in the future, but I need your help. I am inspired by relational connections. You share, I share: send me a message, respond to this post, share it with others. I’m also working hard to build a platform. Your follow on Medium or Twitter and your like of Andrea Joy Wenburg on Facebook can make a huge difference in helping me give others the opportunity to dig deep into their own guts and pull out their humanity — that true love might free them to let it go in relationship like never before.

Thawing,

Andrea

For more on my experience with depression:

When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared