Soundly Sarah – Page 12 – Memoirs of Motherhood, Mental Health, and the Magic in the Mess. ♡

Different by a lot.

02/18/2018 No Comments

Raising a child with a significant gross motor delay is different than a raising a child who develops typically. At times, it’s different by a lot.

For instance, what did we do this weekend? We finally reached the point we needed to lower O’s crib from the newborn position as he’s gotten pretty good at coming to a stand (hurray!). His mobile finally had to come down, too. He turned 2 at the end of November.

I want to reach out and bring O to play dates and such, but he just can’t do a lot of stuff other kids his age can. And a trip to the park for him? It looks *dramatically* different than a trip for a typical developing child of his age.

At times, it’s isolating. I want moms to bond with over our kids shared triumphs. But for so much of the big stuff that’s happening to him right now? The mom’s with kids his age went though it a year and a half ago. It’s old news.

Every day in every way I’m celebrating him. He amazes me. But, I’m also worrying, wanting and aching for him. I don’t know if he knows if he is different or not (how can he not when all the children around him at childcare walk?). In a few years I don’t know if that difference will still be there or not.

But right now, I just want him to be happy. To find his people. To fit in. And it feels like the cards are stacked a bit too much against him at such an early age. I hate that I can’t change that. I realize some of this is my worried mom perception, yes. But it’s the part of it that’s not that keeps me awake at night.

Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

She works.

11/17/2017 No Comments

A year ago today I went back to work after my mat leave.

Biggest things I’ve learned so far?

Being a mom and working full-time is no freakin’ joke.
I’m tired. Not newborn tired, but it rivals what came after that. Weekends have never, ever been sweeter, though they are now much harder than they ever were before.
I feel like I have no brain cells. I’ve come to realize my brain pre and post mat leave are two dramatically different things. Post mat leave brain is still struggling to understand what that means, on top of fitting everything else into it that I’m now asked of.
I have very little time for mostly anything. Between work demands, parenting demands, and personal demands, the time I have in my life is stretched so thin that a flick of the wrist could break it’s mere illusion.
And I miss my kid. A whole freakin’ lot. Picking him up from childcare everyday fills me with such a sweet, blissful, contentment. It makes me whole. My heart feels radiant and complete. And saying goodbye to him the next morning is a bittersweet event that always, always comes too soon.

But there is something undeniably needed in this crazy, exhausted, sometimes dead brain of mine: a purpose beyond myself and my world. One that gives. That cares. That spreads joy. That empowers. That helps.

And so work I will.

Mental Health, Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

Returning to where I need to be.

11/06/2017 No Comments

Okay. I am about to feel incredibly silly for writing this all out, as I have not completely become confident in sharing and living it yet, BUT… this is an act of holding myself accountable. Continue on I can and will.

In my ongoing journeys of post-partum anxiety, post-partum depression and post-partum “what the fresh hell has happened to my life” I have been seeing a counselor and attempting to heal. Born anew I do not expect to be, but eventually finding again the harmony, security and joy to what I once lived is a hope of mine.

So, how I am being instructed to go about doing that is through the act of mindfulness.

There are many interpretations of mindfulness out there, but I personally like this one best: an embracing of awareness in the presence, and cultivating that awareness with kindness and curiosity.

I’m not always the greatest at practicing mindfulness (even though I talk about its teachings often in my career), but I am thankful for what changes it has made thus far in my struggles and the potentials it has in helping me. It helps my brain stop when nothing else can, it grounds me and it allows me to embrace the here and now.

And there is one particular mindfulness strategy I have found to be invaluable to me thus far, and it is known as 5 4 3 2 1.

After taking some purposeful, deep breaths, here is what it asks of those who practice it to do:

Acknowledge FIVE things you see around you.
Acknowledge FOUR things you can touch around you.
Acknowledge THREE things you hear.
Acknowledge TWO things you can smell.
Acknowledge ONE thing you can taste.

(The above can be rearranged if a particular sense is much more abundant than the rest).

I have come to embrace this strategy as it takes me out of my head. It stops the thoughts. It returns me to the physical and lets me simply be. In a world of anxiety and depression that is nothing but a warzone of emotions and panic, it is a lifesaver.

The super nerdy, I’m embarrassed to admit part: recently, in a hope that it better helps and reminds me to practice 5 4 3 2 1, I put together a mindfulness kit for myself to let me have one of every sense readily available to me. The items I choose were ones that particularly spoke to me and bring within me a great sense of peace. My kit now goes everywhere I go, and it looks a little like this:

See: pictures of heavily forested landscapes
Touch: aventurine worry stone
Hear: “zen” chime
Smell: essential oils (lavender and orange in particular)
Taste: yes, that is a mint tin, but there are totally green jolly ranchers inside of it. :>

And it all else fails, a deck of mindfulness cards with other exercises to try if needed.

So, long story short, if you see or hear of me peddling around a chime, staring at trees and smelling heavily of lavender/hippie fabulousness, I haven’t quite lost it. Yet! Rather, I am taking a moment to return to where I need to be. Please be patient with me, as I might not always get there, but I’m trying.

Milestones & Genetics, Motherhood

Tired but thankful.

10/07/2017 No Comments

We’re staying in the hospital tonight as O is in recovery from one of his surgeries. Here are the highlights thus far:

The baby O is sharing his room with is ten months and potty trained. My brain is so confused.
O was up both nights from 9:15-2:45, and then off and on until 6. He kept thinking he had just gotten up from a nap when the nurses needed to do stuff to him. We are… tired as hell.
BC Children’s Child Life dept. is a magical place of flashy lights and dazzling distractions that are like crack cocaine to an upset toddler.
There is no greater hell than sharing a hospital room with a frequently upset baby when your own baby is frightened by crying. No. Greater. Hell.
We have half a room this time instead of third a room! Despite the other stuff, this too is magical.
Nurses that get some stuff can wait and that sleep matters most are my favourite. Nurses that feel they must do everything for every box on the clock (after you just spent an hour and half getting your child down) are not my favourite.
For O’s next surgery we get to be in the new BC children’s hospital ward that has all individual rooms! Hurray!

That’s all for now. We’re headed home soon. I might try to smuggle the giant morphine drip machine home with us. For serious.

Signed,

Tired but thankful.

Motherhood

I will miss this.

05/03/2017 No Comments

With a heavy but accepting heart, our breastfeeding journey is now coming to an end.

These past seventeen months of my body helping feed and keep alive my son has been deeply profound (and at times frustrating, let’s be real).

This last picture of us before I switched to pumping (and before the world became too fascinating for him to stay latched) holds a place forever in my heart.

Thank you, breastfeeding, for helping me learn to love parts of my body that I never used to… and thank you, O, for letting me know now that it is time for us to move onto other journeys together. 💚⁣ ⁣

I will miss this so much.