Season of Darkness

The older Jace got, the farther away from my friends I became. I loved that little baby more and more each day. I loved exploring his baby dimples and rolls and hearing his unrestrained laughs. My feelings toward Jace were a glaring contrast with how I felt about most other things. Nothing was familiar.

I’d started at Baylor intending to start from scratch, in a sense. What could I do, who could I be in this new environment? I imagined that if I could just get my head above the smoke and take in some untainted air…just get some distance, I would figure things out.  The switch from college freshman on a mission to mother was fast for me. I didn’t have time to adjust, and really I don’t think I did adjust for a very long time. At the time, talking about it with close friends only helped a little. It wasn’t their fault. You don’t know until you know. And they didn’t know how it felt to be a mother- so consuming and awesome, and lonely. I didn’t feel left behind. I felt like I had been swept up in this rushing current with no idea where I was heading or who I‘d be when I got there.

A month after our Jace turned 3 and about 3 weeks before Aubrie turned one we met our Kherington. After Kher’s birth, I felt wrong.  I was weepy and hopeless. Being at home alone terrified me. I was in bad shape. I called Mike more than a few times tearfully asking him to please come home early. I just couldn’t do it! I tried my best to be a ‘happy’ mom to my littles. They were so beautiful. Such gifts. But I was so exhausted- emotionally, mentally. The self-control it took to be patient and act like the mommy they deserved was almost crippling. Inside my head I wanted to get in the car and drive, far, far away…and sleep. I had to keep it together though. I never wanted to cry in front of my babies. Never wanted them to feel emotionally responsible for me. That wasn’t their job. I kept myself as tightly wound as I could until Mike got home.

When I laid my head down at night, I would wish for sleep. I would pray for rest, for help. Would I ever be ok again? Who was I? I was going to fail my babies. What mother thinks about driving away from her home? Who was I?!  And then replay of my day would roll….I was too short tempered, I shouldn’t have disciplined Jace for __________. I was no fun, I should have taken them for a walk instead of keeping them inside all day. I was so lazy! How could I have let myself fall asleep during Thomas? Failure. Why did you raise your voice? His first memories are going to be of his mommy being upset with him. Oh God, I take it back. Are you even listening?!  I can’t do this!......

The worst part is that no one knew, because it perpetuated the loneliness. I hid it as best I could. The acting job I did in front of everyone else should have gotten me some sort of award, I’m telling you! In my mind I had to pretend. I thought everyone was just waiting to watch us fail. I couldn’t be the hole that sunk the ship. So I smiled. And I laughed. And behind closed doors I wept bitterly.

Hindsight is such interesting perspective. I can see now that I should have gone to my doctor. Mike and I have had many talks in the years since this Season of Darkness and we both wish we would have recognized it for what it was. Many of my friends have had babies since then and I’ve heard quite a few of them talk to me about having the same (but much less intense!) feelings as I did. Sometimes I wonder if my emotional state was exponentially worse because I didn’t have peers to talk about it with. I didn’t know that new moms felt overwhelmed. Everyone that I observed seemed fine. Happy. Reveling in their mommyhood, so I deduced that something must be wrong with me which led to me being mad at myself, which made me uber aware of my short-comings, which compounded my exhaustion as I laid up at night going over all the things I should have done better…..a cycle. One that knocked me off my feet.

I never doubt the Lord’s presence in my life. I couldn’t have climbed out of that pit alone. When I did, I was scarred and different. But I was out and I never wanted to go back there again.

Being able to determine the feelings that contribute to the cycle is key. Being able to discern exactly what I’m feeling and what may have caused it enables me to talk about it with Mike or Meghan (my person). Often times they don’t need to say much, I just need to be able to talk it out. Other times I need their strength, their affirmation, and their perception of me to combat the lies that float around my head. Another tool I’ve found useful is exercise. Really! Moving, running, lifting heavy things…it brightens my mood and reminds me I’ve got grit and perseverance.

As I was wrestling with the words in this post, I reached out to My Person for some direction and she reached into my heart and gave voice to the words I felt but didn’t know how to say, so:

“But then, even then, sometimes all those tools don’t work, and you know what, that’s okay too. Because seasons of darkness are what make our seasons of light so much more precious and beautiful.”

This time in our life had to have be as terrifying for Mike as it was for me- maybe more so because he couldn’t feel what I was feeling. All he knew was that I wasn’t ok. Fixing situations is his favorite thing. But he couldn’t figure this one out, and I know it was hard on him. Thankfully, Mike tried to make himself a safe place. He didn’t understand, but he listened to my irrational thoughts, held me for eons while I cried, soothed me when I woke up sobbing from nightmares, and he built me up. He just kept building me up, countering my perceived failures with all the successes he saw. He knew when I needed more than he could give me and watched the kids so that I could have time alone with my best friend and she poured into me as well. Eventually their words became mental road blocks and when I would head down that road again, I ran into their words; their healing, life-giving, loving words. 

Mandy