Well, maybe the doctor will have something to say after he’s gotten your blood tests back and checked that thyroid hormone level. And if not, it’s OK, we’ve all been there—-I like the “just keep swimming” advice, myself.
Thanks for letting us know what’s been going on Melanie. I was wondering if you were all right because you did seem to be gone. As a fellow thyroid sufferer I feel for you. I hope that you get a few good nights and I will say some prayers for you to that effect.
I’m one of those “…someone else out there feeling the same way and reading this will help them out.”
This is SO me:
“…perhaps it’s that I’m so dissatisfied with my own spiritual progress during Lent that I want a do over. I don’t feel like I’m a better person for having slogged through those forty days. In fact, I feel like I’ve backslid.”
I appreciate your honesty, Melanie. It’s refreshing in and of itself.
Dear Melanie, don’t get upset or offended, but you’ve made me laugh tonight In the sense that even in the midst of a tough period you can be such a funny writer: your description of the blah-blah-blah mass and of the stressful feast day, the absurd advice of your doctor, the bit about leaving sad messages on other blogs, the line about the well-meaning and oh-so-obvious comments here…
I sincerely hope you have a sweet night, and we’ll see you back here
(This comment is written with love and good intentions – I hope you can take it in the same light)
Wow, I have been in your shoes after my third child was born. And looking back to that time now, I think I may have had post partum depression. I never did anything about it because I assumed if I was rational enough to know I was depressed, I wasn’t really depressed.
I felt much better after my fourth was born, and I don’t know if it was the fact that I was working part-time or exercising regularly that gave me the much needed mental break.
But boy oh boy, reading that post made me wonder if you have considered PPD? It’s so easy to rationalize it away since you’re exhausted caring for 3 little ones and nursing a baby, but it sounds like you’re mentally exhausted and you don’t need to suffer through it.
Melanie,
Colleen might be on to something. My worst PPD was after my third also. I didn’t think of it as PPD because it showed up sometime after those newborn days and it didn’t seem that severe like the stories I had heard from other women. Have you popped over to Kate Wicker’s blog to check out her posts on PPD? Might be helpful. I also think that us Catholic moms have a hard time admitting that taking care of littles is HARD! Three little ones was certainly my biggest adjustment and the hardest period as a mom but I felt like I couldn’t acknowledge those feelings because it wouldn’t be very “pro-life” of me. Babies are always a blessing, but taking care of them can be really challenging and it’s OK to think that. Hope this helps. If not, just ignore.
Hey…I had PPD after baby #3 as well. I didn’t have a CLUE that there was anything wrong with me. I excused the light-headed, nervous, tired feeling to anything BUT what it truly was. Matter of fact, I kept thinking I would just “snap out of it.” Didn’t happen. Then I got pregnant with #4 and, after a stressful year, I hit rock bottom. Took me a year to recover.
I can’t say as I have any great advice. But I wanted to say that you aren’t alone. By the end of Sunday I actually thought to myself, “I hate Easter.” I don’t, of course, but the stress of the full and busy weekend, sitting in the 2nd pew but behind a boy (about Cecilia’s age) who ate pigs-in-a-blanket while coloring and talking throughout all of Mass, and lacking any “me time” to recharge left me moody as could be by Sunday evening. While things have gotten a little better since then, I’ve told James I don’t ever want to go to another Easter Sunday Mass. We’ll drag our kids to the Vigil or something but I won’t do it again. I was dreading that hot crammed church all Sunday morning and, unfortunately, it didn’t disappoint. I’ve been neglecting my blog and so far my 3 days of Easter has had more spiritual richness than all of my 40 days of Lent.
Okay, I feel like I’m just being whiney. My point was that you are most definitely NOT alone. Sadly, my only advice is to repeat to yourself what I keep repeating to myself: God loves me and “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.”
Well, maybe the doctor will have something to say after he’s gotten your blood tests back and checked that thyroid hormone level. And if not, it’s OK, we’ve all been there—-I like the “just keep swimming” advice, myself.
Sometimes you need to vent and that’s ok. We all feel similar to this at one time or another. No advice here, just hang in there. Thinking about you.
I have no unhelpful or helpful advice, but a lot of this hit home with me. Hugs, Melanie.
Thanks for letting us know what’s been going on Melanie. I was wondering if you were all right because you did seem to be gone. As a fellow thyroid sufferer I feel for you. I hope that you get a few good nights and I will say some prayers for you to that effect.
I’m one of those “…someone else out there feeling the same way and reading this will help them out.”
This is SO me:
“…perhaps it’s that I’m so dissatisfied with my own spiritual progress during Lent that I want a do over. I don’t feel like I’m a better person for having slogged through those forty days. In fact, I feel like I’ve backslid.”
I appreciate your honesty, Melanie. It’s refreshing in and of itself.
Only offering prayers and the knowledge that you are not alone!
Dear Melanie, don’t get upset or offended, but you’ve made me laugh tonight
In the sense that even in the midst of a tough period you can be such a funny writer: your description of the blah-blah-blah mass and of the stressful feast day, the absurd advice of your doctor, the bit about leaving sad messages on other blogs, the line about the well-meaning and oh-so-obvious comments here…
I sincerely hope you have a sweet night, and we’ll see you back here
(This comment is written with love and good intentions – I hope you can take it in the same light)
Wow, I have been in your shoes after my third child was born. And looking back to that time now, I think I may have had post partum depression. I never did anything about it because I assumed if I was rational enough to know I was depressed, I wasn’t really depressed.
I felt much better after my fourth was born, and I don’t know if it was the fact that I was working part-time or exercising regularly that gave me the much needed mental break.
But boy oh boy, reading that post made me wonder if you have considered PPD? It’s so easy to rationalize it away since you’re exhausted caring for 3 little ones and nursing a baby, but it sounds like you’re mentally exhausted and you don’t need to suffer through it.
Praying (and feeling) for you, Melanie
Melanie,
Colleen might be on to something. My worst PPD was after my third also. I didn’t think of it as PPD because it showed up sometime after those newborn days and it didn’t seem that severe like the stories I had heard from other women. Have you popped over to Kate Wicker’s blog to check out her posts on PPD? Might be helpful. I also think that us Catholic moms have a hard time admitting that taking care of littles is HARD! Three little ones was certainly my biggest adjustment and the hardest period as a mom but I felt like I couldn’t acknowledge those feelings because it wouldn’t be very “pro-life” of me. Babies are always a blessing, but taking care of them can be really challenging and it’s OK to think that. Hope this helps. If not, just ignore.
Hey…I had PPD after baby #3 as well. I didn’t have a CLUE that there was anything wrong with me. I excused the light-headed, nervous, tired feeling to anything BUT what it truly was. Matter of fact, I kept thinking I would just “snap out of it.” Didn’t happen. Then I got pregnant with #4 and, after a stressful year, I hit rock bottom. Took me a year to recover.
Be kind to yourself, Melanie. You are not alone.
Hi Melanie,
I can’t say as I have any great advice. But I wanted to say that you aren’t alone. By the end of Sunday I actually thought to myself, “I hate Easter.” I don’t, of course, but the stress of the full and busy weekend, sitting in the 2nd pew but behind a boy (about Cecilia’s age) who ate pigs-in-a-blanket while coloring and talking throughout all of Mass, and lacking any “me time” to recharge left me moody as could be by Sunday evening. While things have gotten a little better since then, I’ve told James I don’t ever want to go to another Easter Sunday Mass. We’ll drag our kids to the Vigil or something but I won’t do it again. I was dreading that hot crammed church all Sunday morning and, unfortunately, it didn’t disappoint. I’ve been neglecting my blog and so far my 3 days of Easter has had more spiritual richness than all of my 40 days of Lent.
Okay, I feel like I’m just being whiney. My point was that you are most definitely NOT alone. Sadly, my only advice is to repeat to yourself what I keep repeating to myself: God loves me and “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.”
You’re in my prayers. God Bless and Happy Easter!
Melanie,
Just wanted you to know that you are in my prayers.
Christ is Risen!
mary