Tough Choices

Annabelle's first momma kisses

I have a beautiful new baby,her name is Annabelle Rose. We named her after Saint Anne and Saint Mary. She really is wonderfully perfect. I am in love with this precious little life that has been trusted to me for her time on Earth.

Annabelle just hours old

So soft and warm a squishy. She smiles and it lights the room. I can't stop kissing her. Annabelle has a wonderful combination of her two older sisters' features. Delicate like grace but with the same roundness as Evangeline.

Annabelle almost ready to come home.

Everyone loves her! The boys can't get enough of her and are constantly loving on her. Grace watches her sleep in her chair at breakfast and often chooses to sit beside her on the floor with her food. Even Evie loves Annabelle, though their relationship can be a little rough at times.

Kissing Annabelle

Biggest Sister with Littlest Sister

Loves from big brother.

Everyone loves her. She is perfect. I should be over the moon happy. I should be beside myself happy. I have a beautiful new baby girl that I cant put down.

Not because she is fussy, but because I literally cannot put her down without checking her every 5 seconds to see if she is breathing. or bleeding. or choking. or a myriad of other constant crazy  scenarios. I am constantly afraid I might drop her, or bang her into something, or that something is wrong. I worry she isn't eating enough even though she is growing wonderfully. I feel disconnected from her, like I don't really know her.

figuring each other out

And I just can't stop crying.

I feel hopeless, and broken, and stressed. I don't want to leave my house. Even just a trip out to the backyard makes my palms sweat. I don't feel any joy. Her cry makes me anxious, not hurt the baby anxious, just why can't I figure this out sort of anxious.
My anxiety is at an all time high.
I'm not sleeping. Belle sleeps great from 11-4 most nights, but I can't sleep. Most nights I go to sleep around 2 or 3 and I'm up between 5 and 6 for the day. I am so tired but every time I sleep I dream about drowning, or burning, or falling, or being chased by dogs.
I feel like I am living in a black hole without any hope of finding the light. I feel like a failure. I feel like a terrible mother that doesn't deserve this beautiful blessing God has given me. Everyday feels like Groundhog Day, it's all the same and it feels hopeless and lonely.


I am broken.
My husband calls me when I leave the house to make sure I haven't driven my car into the water.
My son asks me why I look sad so often.
My daughter wonders ,out loud, why I don't smile anymore.

I am struggling with post partum depression. I have decided to start medication. My OCD and Anxiety are hard enough to handle on their own, but this has destroyed my ability to function.

I am taking meds because my kids deserve a joyful mother. My husband deserves a joyful wife. I deserve to feel joy.

and I don't.
I am drowning in the deep end of the pool and I forgot my floaties.
I miss the sunshine.

Pictures You Won't See

In my basement, on a ledge, is a stack of pictures set into frames I never hang. Pictures of the boys in matching yellow and blue sweaters. A picture of the three of us for the church directory. Pictures at Tyler's First Holy Communion. Pictures of the boys

Pictures of my boys and me in the years between. Between Daniel and Trevor, between broken and functional. Between here and there.

Those pictures are too painful to look at. Even 14 years later I still hold my breath when I see them. They bring me no joy. No comfort. My heart skips and I feel my stomach plummet when I see them.
It was by far the worst time in my life, the most painful. It was brutal. The visceral reaction to those photos is overwhelming and unpredictable. They bring me nothing but pain.

And yet I was refined by fire, even then.

I keep those pictures so that my boys will have them some day. I don't want them to not have that piece of their childhood simply because it was dark. It was dark for them too, but it was different in their eyes.

I am finding out how well I protected them during those years. Too well it would seem. There are so many things they don't know. So much I will most likely never tell them.

And yet I was refined by fire, even then.

Those trials as difficult as they were, shaped me into who I am. It created in me the destruction necessary to build an even greater masterpiece. One with faith as the glue.

I was a pretty blue vase.
The was shattered back then. The pieces were so small I couldn't fix it myself.
I had to give myself and all of my brokenness to God.
He created , in me, something amazing and even more precious.
He made me a beautiful serving platter, to serve my family around me.

Here I am , broken again.
The pieces no longer something I can work with.
I have no choice but to hand my brokenness to God and let him work with remains of that platter.
Because as beautiful as it was, it still isn't what I am meant to be.

I have no doubt that I will be remade many times within this parenthesis. Not every time will be this brutal.

But for now,

I am refined by fire.

This is Hard

This is hard. Parenting a child with a disability is hard. there is no real way around that. It's hard, and sometimes, it sucks. No sugar coating it.

Like when you are at church with your 8 year old in the crying room because he just can't contain himself.
When that same 8 year old tells you he hates you and says mean things because he is just a mess over not finding his favorite shoes that morning. When the entire day is a  never ending series of blow ups, explosions, walking on eggshells, and teetering on the edge because of those damn shoes. When you begin to feel like maybe, just maybe, God made a mistake giving this child to you because , seriously, You are not equipped         in any way for this. When you find the shoe in the most ridiculous place and for a second fantasize about beating the teen that put it there, with the shoe. When you loose your cool, and scream and cry as though you have truly lost your mind... Those days suck. Those days are hard.There is so much else going on and so many other kids that need your attention too.When you haven't taken a family vacation in years because money is so tight.  The stress of taking your son somewhere unfamiliar is just too much. Because , after all this time you STILL worry what people think.

It's hard. No doubt about it.

but THIS ( possible trigger warning) and THIS (possible trigger warning)
makes my heart hurt in ways I can't possibly explain.

Because as much as it sucks he s still my boy. I still love him with an incredible fierceness. Despite the days I just don't wanna... I do
Because tomorrow the sun comes up. It isn't the end of the world
No matter how bad it seems

Because, once, at 14 I really thought there was no way out but a bunch of pills. Because clinical depression CAN happen and does happen even at 14. Even when people around you don't get it and think you should be happy. Maybe someday I will tell that story.



Even if it feels like no one cares... someone, somewhere does.
Even if you think it is bigger than you... it isn't bigger than two
My faith get me through those days now. By the Grace of God I make it through those days into tomorrow