My Journey: Depression

By Kara
Introduced by Amy

Kara is from my hometown, the good ol' town of Shelley, Idaho.  I was friends with her older siblings, as well as her husband's big bro.  When she told me about her experience with depression after having a baby, my heart hurt for her.  Man, after you have a baby your hormones are wiggity-wack...I cried a lot.  But, there is a real difference between baby blues (which I had) and true, full-on, crushing depression.  Kara tells us her story straight from her heart.  During a trial like this, it can be easy to feel alone, but I know that there are many who secretly battle depression.  For Kara, the battle was gut-wrenching, but happily, she was able to find the help that she needed, and the surprising source of her depression! 
-Amy
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Our new little girl, Emery.

About a month after Emery was born I started having some bad days. (This is when my mom started noticing something was wrong).  When Emery was three months old, it really hit me: I was depressed.  One night in particular, I couldn't stop crying and I called my mom to come ASAP.

The next day, Dr. Clark fit me right in to her (very) busy schedule because of the message that I had left her.  Having my husband, Jared, and my mom there meant a lot, because I was such a mess.  My doctor decided that I did need to go on some medicine and suggested I go to Idaho to have more constant support as Jared was in school and gone quite a bit.

I headed to Idaho for the week, spent time with my family there, as well as the close friends and neighbors I had grown up with.  The next week my mom and I headed back to Utah to spend time there so I could be with Jared too.  I was an emotional wreck.  I had good days and bad days, good times of the day and bad times of the day--but I just kept crying and crying.  The medicine I was on made me feel sick and I had no appetite.  I ended up losing 9 pounds in the first 3 days I was on it.

A month before my first appointment.

The majority of the time I hated life and I disliked being a mom.  I wanted to go back to how things "used to be."  After some time in Utah, my mom and I headed back to Idaho; we decided it would be best because Jared was busy with school and I needed more support than I was getting in Utah.  I needed to be around people constantly and to be busy-- I couldn’t handle any “down time” or I would hit rock bottom.

After a rough weekend of “being brave” and going back to Utah, I went back to Dr. Clark.  She decided that I needed to add another medicine to what I was already taking because my case of "postpartum depression" was pretty severe.  That afternoon I headed back to Idaho with my mom.  It was so hard to be away from Jared but we skyped, texted, talked on the phone, and constantly communicated in any way we could.  I kept myself busy by staying with people and setting up my own “babysitters.”  I especially spent a lot of time with my sister; she was a huge strength and support through these months.  I started to have some good days--days when I felt normal during parts of them.  Jared and my mom commented that they saw the old me again and were happy about it.  He came for the weekend, and when it was time for him to leave I was a mess again--I cried and cried.  We went to friends' house and talked to them and received support, and I was able to pull myself together for Jared to head home.

Monday was an okay day, I was a mess in the morning, but pulled myself together by the afternoon. Tuesday I went to Amber’s house and shortly after arriving, it hit and I was terribly depressed.  I tried to keep busy, I did her dishes, I helped her clean, but nothing was working.  Thoughts of hurting myself entered my head and I texted my mom in panic.  I knew these thoughts were dumb, and had no idea where they came from, but I was ready to quit playing this game, I didn't know how to get the thoughts to go away.  Eight weeks was a long time to feel this way and I was sick of it, I knew that I wouldn't ever do anything, but I was scared.  I needed help, real help.  I was finally open to going to a counselor, something that many had suggested but I wasn't open to.  But, at this point, I just wanted any kind of help that I could get to make things better.

My mom came and picked me up and took me to the P.A. I had seen before I got married.  We talked about how I was feeling, the medicines I was on (vitamins, essential oils, the meds for depression, the med I was on to help increase my milk supply, etc.).  She told us she would be right back and left for a minute.  She came back with her phone and started explaining that the medicine I was on to increase my milk supply (Reglan) had side effects of severe depression and anxiety and suggested that I go off of it immediately.  She told us that she wouldn’t even prescribe it because of all off the terrible side effects it can have.  I was on a double dose 4x a day and had been on it since about a month after Emery was born.  My mom and I started thinking back and the timelines matched up perfectly.  She started noticing changes in me about the time I went on it, and when it was doubled was about the time things got really bad and I went in to the doctor for the first time.

I went to bed with hope that night of things changing.  There seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel.  The next day I started feeling better.  I spent the day with my dad running errands.  Thursday I woke up after sleeping in and felt pretty good.  I spent the next four hours with just Emery and didn't have an anxiety attack.  I did it.

I am so thankful for a doctor that figured out what was going on.  I really didn't have postpartum depression but had been suffering from a medically induced depression.  We have since found out that the med I was on is only supposed to be used for a minimal amounts of time and is suggested for Chemo patients who are having stomach problems.

Right about the time that I realized what was going on.

We were away from Jared for Emery's first Halloween because of the amount of support I constantly needed.

"Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals" -(Home Alone).  It was so good to be "normal" again at Christmas and to get to enjoy our little family TOGETHER.

My family today!

My journey was a rough one; one that I am still finishing as I adjust back to being "normal" again.  It is a trial that I needed to go through...It tried my patience, strength, and hope.  It made me rely on my Heavenly Father, family and friends more than I ever have.  It is something I never want to deal with again, nor want anyone to have to deal with.

Depression is rough; it is hard; it is real.

A year has passed since that first doctor's visit and life is fabulous.  We’re living our state of “normal” and loving every minute.  Emery continues to be a joy in our lives and teaches us new things constantly.  Life couldn’t be better!
-Kara

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Thank you Kara for your courage in sharing your story!  I was so inspired by her faith, as well as the love her husband, family, and friends showed her; they were such an incredible support system.  

How about you, friends?  Have you experienced depression?  What did those around you do that eased your burden?  We'd love to hear. :)
 -Amy

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Southernized

By Erica 
Introduced by Amy

Erica and I grew up going to the same church, though I was a few years older than her.  She is super funny and cool...I totally wish I had gotten to know her better back in the day!  I am blown away by her courage; it would not be easy to move far away from friends and family with a little kiddio and babe on the way!  I also completely related to the process she went through to find the good in her new home.  It's nice to know I'm not the only one who takes a while to "cheerfully adjust" to situations that are new and/or less comfortable.  She amazes me!  I hope you enjoy her candid story as much as I did. 
-Amy
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I used to think that I was spontaneous, fun-loving and audacious.  I was wrong.  Dead wrong.  I found out early this year that I am a true homebody with no sense of adventure at all.  It was a tough break and a very eye opening realization.

My husband, Austin, graduated from Brigham Young University in December 2012 and we spent the next couple of months in my parents basement in Idaho searching for a “real” job.  It was fun and romantic imagining our lives in another state, somewhere we'd never been before.  It was a new beginning for our little family. And then ... we weren't imagining anymore.  Suddenly, I found myself 34 weeks pregnant, in an airplane, with a screaming one year old squirming in my lap, headed to a tiny town called Camden, Arkansas.

Okay, it didn't happen THAT easily. After my husband accepted the job offer I was left to decided if I wanted to up and move with him right now, or let him go ahead and find us a place to live and meet him there after I had the baby.  I wrestled the two ideas for days.  I can't tell you how much sleep I lost over this decision.  I made a pro vs. con chart, I asked my friends and family for opinions, I prayed about it, and ultimately we went together.

We arrived in Arkansas on February 11.  I remember the date because our wedding anniversary was the next day and, of course, Valentine's Day followed suit.  Camden has a population of about 12,000.  Now, that's about 3 times the size of the town I grew up in, but the difference is, where I grew up, all shopping, restaurants, movie theaters etc., were a short 15 minute drive from home, in the next town.  In Camden, if you want to see the inside of a store that isn't Walmart, it's a 2 hour drive.  2 hours!  That's nuts.  We are really out in the sticks, here.  We were holed up in a hotel room for 1 week with no fridge or microwave, and during that time we were searching high and low for a place to live.  It was darn near impossible and we ended up getting what seemed like the only available rental in town.  And it is not pretty.  Let me just say this: wood paneling and cockroaches.  Oy. Not the place I wanted to bring my kid to, let alone a newborn!

Camden is about 30 years behind the rest of the world.  The houses are old.  No one has a garage.  The medical system is weird (there are no Ob/Gyn docs here, and I was ready to pop, mind you).  I was scared.  I was homesick.  I was unhappy.  Austin's new job had him gone for 10-12 hours a day and for some reason, being in a new place all alone with my baby had me thinking everyone I saw was a murderer.  The mailman stopped by to introduce himself (that's how nice everyone here really is!) and my heart stopped when I heard him pounding on the door.  I really did think everyone was out to get me!  I would stand and stare out the window like a creep watching the cars go by and I noticed every single one slowed WAY down when it was passing our house.  Was this my imagination?!  What is going on?!  Nope.  We live on a corner intersection with a stop sign.  I was truly paranoid, people.  I know, I'm a weirdo, with a morbid, wild imagination.  I'm working on that.  So, after several weeks of sitting rigidly in my bedroom all day, scared at every single sound, I got over it.

But I still wasn't happy.  All day, every day, I was consumed with anger.  I was angry that my husband moved me so far from all of my family and friends.  I was angry that we had to live in this crappy house that smelled like a dead person and felt damp inside.  I was angry that instead of renting a U-Haul like normal people, we bought a trailer that was way too tiny and had to get rid of a ton of our stuff (that's a story for another day).  I was sending my poor hubs text messages all day about how miserable I was and how horrible my son was being to me (like I was some victim of baby tyranny).  I told him all the time how much I hated it and wanted to find another job some where else.  Talk about annoying!  Austin was working his buns off everyday, doing his best to provide for his family, so I could stay at home with my kids and all I could say was “Why did you bring me here?!”

No.  That is ridiculous, and super ungrateful.

It took some time to realize it but one day I made a goal for myself.  I decided I would go an entire day without sending a negative text to Austin.  It was liberating.  My 1 year old wasn't attacking me personally, he was just being a regular baby.  And I wasn't miserable, I was just pregnant.  And the next day, we went outside and played in the sunshine and I didn't hate it here after all.

I still felt homesick and lonely, though.  Austin and I had a discussion about making friends.  He says to me, “You just need to go make some.”  Hmm, great advice honey, I'll get right on that.  It's hard for me!  He gets to go to work everyday and make friends with his coworkers.  I am lucky to make it to Walmart during the week and maybe get some small talk in with the cashier.  I was sulking about not ever having the same relationship with anyone else that I do my bestie (I'm not hip enough to use that word), Lisa, that I left back in Utah.  We were roommates and got married and had baby boy's together.  We could talk about the nitty gritty and we could always depend on one another.  Fortunately, I belong to a church full of awesome people that are just WAITING to be my friend, and maybe I won't have the same relationship I have with Lisa, because hopefully I won't be put back in the roommate situation, but that's okay!  I can have friends that don't remind me to pluck my “chiskers” (kindly named by my dear friend, meaning chin whiskers) and they don't have to teach me what hemorrhoids are after I push out a 10lb baby (she really is a good friend).

I've already made two trips home since moving but I think it gave me closure.  I am falling in love with the people in this town.  They have the biggest hearts and they bless my life everyday.  I am learning to just be myself and the people that don't run in the other direction will be the ones I call my new friends.  I think I'm off to a good start.  It helps when I speak their language, like saying y’all, fixin' ta, and putting extra emphasis on the Ju in Ju-ly.

I've officially been Southernized. 
-Erica

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Isn't she cool? :)  
So, now it's your turn.  Have you ever moved far away from friends and fam?  How did you get used to your new home and meet new peeps?  We'd love to hear about your experience! :) 
-Amy

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Taking Time to Find a Friend: Lessons from a Three-Year-Old

By Lalove
Introduced by Amy

When my older sister, Sherie, was in high school, she had a really cool group of friends, whom I idolized.  I longed to be cool like them, wearing makeup, staying out after 9:30, and having parties...they even hung out WITH BOYS! *gasp!*  Whenever these friends came over for a movie night with my sister, they let me hang out too; I happily pretended to be one of them.  (Gosh, I can't believe how patient they were...I was probably so obnoxious--I NEVER stopped talking.)  Lalove was one of these super cool older girls.  

Now we are both mommas.  The weird thing is, if I moved into her neighborhood today, we'd meet and be friends!  The difference between a 10 year-old and a 15 year-old is HUGE...but 5 years isn't such a stretch when your grown-ups!  I'm so glad she agreed to contribute a post--she is so warm and funny...and a fabulous writer.
Enjoy!
-Amy

My son William is three years old, an age where in his mind, the world is his own. 

He fully expects that every person we meet is ready and willing to be his friend and is interested in what he has to say.  The other day as I was wheeling him around Home Depot, in one of those shopping carts made to look like a kid’s car and that have the maneuverability of a small cruise ship barreling down the aisles, you would have thought my son was in a parade.  He was shouting to the people we passed, calling hello and waving wildly to strangers, as if he believed they should be thrilled to see him.  He was especially excited when we saw kids close to his age.  Whenever a small child came into sight, he’d cry out, “My friend!” and beg me to steer the cart over so he could chat with his “friends.”  Most people who saw my son waving and calling to them were kind enough to smile and wave back, and as I watched total strangers strike up a fleeting moment of friendship with my son, it got me thinking.  I think most young children, born into homes where they feel safe and secure, develop a natural sense of love and concern for others around them.  For many children my son’s age, anyone can be their friend, regardless of age, gender, social status, etc.   While children can definitely be mischievous and troublemaking, there is a reason the Savoir said we should become like little children, and I believe part of that reason is their amazing capacity to love others.

Yet somewhere along the journey to adulthood, the attitude of loving everyone shifts.  Somewhere along the way, most children learn that it’s not OK to talk to strangers in Home Depot and not everyone is their friend.  Obviously for safety reasons, we have to teach our children that not every stranger is going to be a friend to them, and they need to be careful about who they try to associate with.  Yet watching my son making friends with each person he came in contact with made me wonder if we sometimes swing too far to the other extreme – to where we become self absorbed, judgmental, afraid of rejection, and unwilling to go out of our way to be friends to others. 

Case in point, I spoke to a friend of mine the other day who recently moved to a new state and was commenting on how hard it was for her to make friends, even though she was going out of her way to meet people.  As we spoke, I understood a little of what my friend was experiencing.  I moved to a new city over a year ago and had a similar experience.  What surprised both me and my friend is that we are both actively engaged in the churches we attend, and both of us had few people show any interest in meeting us when we attended church the first few weeks.  While I wouldn’t expect strangers in Home Depot to go out of their way to be my friend, I would expect that anyone attending a new church would find many welcoming friends. 

Lalove with baby #2: Elinore

Since I’ve been married I’ve lived in two different cities, and in both instances, when I attended church for the first time, I had a few people make an effort to speak to me.   But most people sat with and spoke with the same people at church each week, without seeming to notice I was there.  I found that if I wanted to meet people, I had to go out of my way to introduce myself.  When my husband and I were first married, he was deployed to Iraq, so I spent about a year and a half living on my own.  It was really hard some weeks for me to go to church all by myself and spend the three hour’s worth of meetings sitting alone.  I’m not trying to sound whiney and complain-y because it wasn’t everyone’s job to be my best friend at church each week; if I wanted to make friends, it was partially my responsibility to talk to people, which I did, and eventually I made a lot of friends and met a lot of great people.  However, when you’re the new person – whether it be at church or work or school or in the neighborhood – it can be a little intimidating; having people take time to offer their friendship can make the transition to a new environment much more pleasant and much less stressful. 

Ever since my experience trying to make friends at church that year and half my husband was gone, I’ve tried harder to be aware of people around me.   I try harder to sit by people sitting alone at church so we can strike up a conversation.  I try harder when I’m in public to look for people who seem like they need help or a kind word.  I’m still not as good as my son.  There are still times in life when I let fear get the best of me, and instead of taking time to say hello or give a compliment to a stranger, I keep my mouth shut and miss opportunities to be a friend to others around me.  I hope I can improve.  Lucky for me I have a great example to look up to.  He’s about three feet tall with big blue eyes and a big old smile.  Some of you probably know him – you may have seen him waving to you as we lumbered down the aisles of Home Depot.  His name is William, and he already knows what to call you – “friend.”
-Lalove

See what I mean?  She's so cool.  Don't you just wish she was your next door neighbor so you could talk over the fence and have family barbeques?  I love her ideas about friendship.  It's funny that kids think that grown-ups can do anything and that we're never scared....but when it comes to making friends, they are often SO much braver than us. 

How about you?  Have you an experience where someone reached out to you (or visa versa) that you'd share?  What helps you to make friends?  We'd love to hear from you. :)
-Amy

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Epic Treehouse Playdate!!!

By Amy

So, remember in my "The Elusive Art of Making Mommy Friends" post, I said I had a goal of setting up more playdates?  Since becoming a mom, I hadn't really jumped on the playdate bandwagon...and I was determined this summer to hop on.  So, after hearing of a bunch of the huge bloggers in the bloggy world having these "epic playdates" sponsored by Hyundai... I thought, "Well, Shoot.  We can totally do EPIC too, sponsor of not!"  (No disrespect, I'm just a little jealous cause we didn't have the funds to go zip-lining through the redwoods...Ha!)

So, in true DIY style, I set out to create our own fabulous shindig.  And, I'm happy to report that a few days ago, my friends Amber, Delilah, and I did indeed take our kiddios on an EPIC playdate.  

How epic?

We played and relaxed in a 5 story treehouse.  My dad, my brothers, and I built the treehouse when we were kids.  (Ok, my little bro and I mostly handed up nails and fetched stuff...)  But, a little background on this freaking cool place:

Growing up, I was so jealous of my friends who played night games with all the neighborhood kids or had block parties in the street (picture the "Sandlot".)  I didn't live in a cul-da-sac.  My family lived a quarter of a mile down a gravel road, with nothing but foothills and sagebrush forever behind our house.  Sometimes as a kid, I wished I lived in the city to escape the farm chores of hauling hay and moving pipe, but man...there were some definite perks to living in the coutry.  One of these?  The treehouse.   

It was built in a sprawling tree over several summers out of left-over wood and salvaged nails.  My big brother was the dreamer and architect, and my dad took time from his full-time office job and hobby farmwork to help put his son's "Swiss Family Robinson" dream into reality.  (Which is funny since my dad is not a fan of heights.) We spent hours there, and I read many a book in the hammock, spied on the teenage boys moving pipes with no shirts on in the adjacent field (scandalous!  Ha!) and we even held parties and group dates there.  We loved it!  We played treehouse hotel (I was always the crazy owner down in the lobby) and pirate ship for for entire summers, pulling the water bucket from the pond below to swab the deck.  Life was good at the treehouse.

But, now, my parents' grandkids live hours away and we're all grown up and gone, and the treehouse doesn't get all the love that it used to.  So, that's where I took my friends and their kids!  After a 45 min ride, with my son screaming most of the way, (sorry, Amber!) we arrived.

And...The kids loved it.  Seriously, I thought they were going to set up camp an we'd have to leave without them.  Even the babies were good sports for most of the time!

So here's our playdate!  Please prepare yourself: you're about to see pics for days!  Ha!

Welcome to the treehouse!  My son and my momma.

The treasure chest! 

She's holding the pirate's booty!  Haha....get it?

Delilah and Jasper

Amber with her visiting nephew

Me and my stinker son!  And, I swear I didn't plan to be all matchy-matchy plaid.  It just happened.

DONT JUMP! Ha!  My mom's hand is holding on to the back of him...he wasn't even scared!

Crossing the canal...

Walking back to the house

haha...funny pic of Payden

Sandbox!

The foothills behind the house.

Delicious picnic-ing...

And...somebody realllllly needs nap. 

SO, after lots of fun, yummy food, too much sun, and several baby tantrums, we called our epic playdate a wrap.  A there were lots of snores in the car on the way home. (hallelujah!)  And though this was a pretty sweet location, playdates don't have to be elaborate.  Heck, McDonalds Playplace can make for a great playdate...kids are running around having fun, (probably peeing in the slides...ha!) and moms get to hang out and have some adult conversation.  WIN WIN!

So, how about you?  What do you like to do on playdates?  Do you love a relaxing home playdate?  How about the park?  Have you had any crazy elaborate playdates?  I'd love to hear, cause I need ideas.  :)

 Thanks, friends!
-Amy

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