Seeking Help

I am really independent. It seems to be coded in my DNA. I am that independent.

There can be a lot of virtues about being independent. Being independent helps my life in a lot of ways. But like most things, there are two sides. This post is about the other side of independent:

It can make me think I don't need any help.

And, little secret, sometimes I really do need help.

Ok, I have three kids under the age of four. It is not a secret at all that I need help. But, for some reason, my head still treats this as a secret. Because...I am, and want to be, independent.

And that can stop me from asking for help. And not asking for help can make my life worse.

So, since the birth of my littlest boy,  I have been working hard at asking for help (or saying yes more often when it is offered).

Seeking help is hard. Seeking help admits I might actually need help.

AND...

Seeking help, it turns out, can also be freeing and, well, um, helpful.

I have seen this first hand in a few ways in just the last few weeks and I think I am on to something with seeking help.

Way back before we adopted Isaac I was diagnosed with post partum depression (PPD) following a miscarriage. This makes you more likely to be diagnosed with PPD again so I, and my medical team, are on the lookout for this after I give birth. Peter's birth was also pretty traumatic, which also ups your PPD chances. But, I have felt pretty good since he was born, far from perfect because this is all HARD stuff having three little boys, but pretty good. So I decided to see a Psychiatrist. Why? Well, because I am trying to seek help and maybe she would have a different take on my head right now. Maybe I would need help, maybe I wouldn't, but to be a person who seeks help, I had to first ask. We had a lovely chat over the head of my sleeping baby. She agreed my head seemed pretty good, not perfect, but pretty good. She had some ideas for me. I am going to try them out. Mostly I feel freed from wondering if I am really okay because I went seeking help instead of doing it on my own.

Then there was breastfeeding. For me, it is an okay thing, not the magical experience some seem to have, but I like feeding my babies. It hasn't been going perfect. The independent part of me says "eh, it is going well enough, everyone struggles". But I want to be a help seeker so I decided to see a lactation specialists. Maybe she would have some ideas for me or maybe she would say we were fine. Turns out, Peter has a little tongue tie. Getting that fixed should help a few things. She gave me some other ideas, too. Seeking help is going to bring healing to my baby (and to me).

That second one I feel extra good about because other professionals said I didn't need to go, that I was "probably fine". I decided to be a help seeker instead and learned we really needed help. This is what is about. I am proud of myself for choosing to seek help.

Maybe there are other times I didn't know I needed help and I really did. I get a little afraid to ask for help sometimes, It is the curse of the independent. So this help seeking is a growing experience for me. My husband recently told me the following phrase and it is my new "go to" for thinking when I don't want to seek help because I don't want to face rejection...."the answer will always be no until you ask". How many times have I just assumed no and made my life actually a little harder?

So I want to be a help seeker because its turning out that life can be a little easier with some help along the way.

Dear April of Six Years Ago

Six years ago today we started our first round of more aggressive infertility treatments and about 2 months after that I had my first miscarriage. So I have been thinking a lot about what I would say to myself looking back...

Dear April of Six Years Ago,
First, take a bath tonight, read a book, and sleep in tomorrow. Soon that won't be an option. I know that sounds like a lame platitude for what you are going through, but trust me. Do it. Sleep is precious.

This is going to be a hard road. Yes, I know, it already has been, but it is going to get harder and then it is going to get miraculous and you won't even know how to process it all in your head...your heart...well, hearts get bigger around loss and through life.

I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you that in the next six years your heart will break. It will break into so many piece you won't even know how to get out of bed sometimes. It's ok. Stay there a few days, it won't hurt anything. It will break over and over...at least six major times. You will get some terrible phone calls, cry a million tears, and wonder how you will ever get to be a mommy (and later, if you will get to be a mommy again).

There will also be some fun highlights and memories that have become fun memories, too. Remember that trip to Mexico? Think bigger...think a couple trips to Europe. Have a really fun time. In about 2 years, you won't be going much of anywhere...happily!

Keep having faith. This will be the hardest part. You will want to give up on faith. Big time. You will have a huge fight with God. You will pound your fists and scream. He won't let go. Your faith will grow. You will, eventually, be thankful for that season. Really.

You will learn that miracles still happen. Three of them so far. Yes. You will have three boys and they will come as miracles each and every time. You will LOVE being a boy mom...even when you are so tired you can't see straight at night.

You will learn that biology can have NOTHING to do with making a family. You will learn that you can love a child born of another woman as your very own...because he is your very own. This little boy will teach you lessons in love, patience, trains, flexibility, and neurological disorders (don't worry, it isn't as scary as it sounds). You will learn that adoption was never a plan B, it was just the plan. You will be just as happy about being a mom as you thought you would be...even when you sigh with relief when that child gets on the bus each day!

You will learn that your body hasn't actually failed you. Yes, you will think it has many times (see broken heart above), but you can have babies. You have two...one is trying to climb me right now. The other is still a tiny nugget (see why I recommend you sleep now above). All of your wondering about what your babies would look like? Well, you and Mark make beautiful babies...and they are a super cute combination of the two of you. God did good here.

Through it all you will have a rock. Mark will be there every step of the way. He will dry your tears, find furniture for you to sledgehammer (serious), he will be a voice of reason (so try to be nice). He will sing the sweetest songs to your boys, he will teach them "guy stuff", and one night in November in about 6 years he will push the performance capabilities of your minivan (yes, you have one) to get you to the hospital just in time to give birth. Go make him a big kiss. I will do that next, too.

You will make some of your best friends on this journey you are about to take. Friends that would have never found you otherwise. These girls will help you stay sane, make you laugh, and dry your tears. Go visit them!

Girl, this road is about to get crazy, but don't forget that life is beautiful. No, it won't look perfect from your direction. Heck, it doesn't look perfect from mine! But it does look beautiful. The crazy, messy kind of beautiful that will change you from you to me. It will be scary, but it will be worth it. Whatever happens, just don't give up, it will all be worth it someday.

Love,
Me

P.S. - Mom is right...you are totally brave!

Conversations with a Three Year Old: Morning Sickness Edition

In general, all of our conversations with Isaac regarding the new baby are pretty funny. He certainly has a lot of questions, ideas, and opinions (especially about names!). Some of his best comments, though, come about when I am sick (and by "sick", I mean leaning over the toilet loosing my breakfast). And since this happens almost every day...well, there is a lot of talk about vomit around here!

Sunday's version...

We were actually on our way to church and I wasn't feeling well. I told Mark to pull over so I could throw up before we got to the church parking lot. As I was leaning out the car door, I hear this conversation...

Isaac: Is Mommy throwing up the baby? [an ongoing concern]

Daddy: No, the baby just sometimes makes Mommy's tummy hurt so she throws up food. Only a doctor can get the baby out. [Because that is all a three year old needs to know!]

Isaac: He will use a rope. [WHAT?!?!?!]

Daddy: Nooo, he won't use a rope to the get baby out. Sometimes he uses his hands. And sometimes the doctor even uses a knife!

Isaac: How?

I abruptly ended their chat at this point because as you are throwing up on the side of the road you don't really want to contemplate having a baby cut out of you with a knife!!!

I can only imagine the questions regarding delivery are only going to get more interesting from here!!

A Thriving Surprise

I have some happy Thriving news today!

One of the reasons I found myself in the Middle Life this year was my desire for another child. We always wanted several kids, but kids haven't been easy to come by in our family. So I felt in the Middle with my desires.

In the last year we lost three babies at early stages of pregnancy. It hurts. It makes it hard to Thrive, but we continued to have faith that we would have more kids. And I blogged about it, too!

And now we have some happy news!! Actually, the happy news has been around for a few months, but when you have the problems we do it is hard to share early...so we waiting and prayed and hoped and prayed and started to allow ourselves to dream...and now we can finally share this happy news...

That's Right...we are adding a fifth Bennett in December!!

So far everything looks perfect with this little guy and we are so thankful for yet another miracle boy!!