Tag Archives: mom

Comfort: Five Minute Friday {6}

10 May

Mother'sDayComfort_BML

COMFORT

Back then, newly sick and with the fear of a mental illness diagnosis looming over my head, there were few things that brought me comfort.

 

One that was the most strong was her love

and her continued fight

to get me back to well.

 

There were so many tears back then. But we were able to smile when we were together for pictures, even if it sometimes felt forced. Behind the smiles there was silent suffering.

 

No matter what, she never stopped trying to comfort me. To ease my pain. To take the hurt away from her baby, her firstborn.

 

She will always bring me comfort in times of sadness. She’s my mom.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

I love you with all my heart.

xoxoxo

Five Minute Friday

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Balance and lack there of

7 Sep

Wow. What a week it’s been. Lately I find myself wondering: why it is so hard to balance the various curveballs and uppercuts life throws at us? Why can’t I just magically make everything WORK?

Speaking of work. That is something I did very little of this week. But I’ll get to that.

Little man came down with a fever on Monday morning which landed us in Urgent Care that evening at 9:30pm when he could barely catch his breath. He slept okay after a nebulizer treatment and some Children’s Motrin, but by the next afternoon he sounded like Darth Vader so we ran over to the pediatrician to find out he had croup, which I had suspected by that point. The doc put him on an oral steroid to keep his airway from swelling shut.

It worked really well. By Wednesday morning he was much better, but Baby girl had contracted his lovely virus. Luckily (I thought at the time) her airway sounded fine and I thought she’d escape with just a cold.

Yeah. Not so much.

She had a fever off and on all day yesterday and her breathing started sounding worse and worse. Last night I had my husband stop at Target on his way home from work to buy a new humidifier and she slept fine with it running to steam up her small room. But I knew right when I picked her up this morning that she needed that same med that the doc gave her brother. I didn’t even bother to take a shower. Instead I threw on clothes, brushed my teeth and asked my husband to stay home with our son while I rushed her over to the pediatrician (so thankful to live within 3 minutes driving distance from the office and for their established patient walk-in sick hours from 7:30-8:30am).

There was a line 8 patients long by the time I arrived at the office at 7:30. A kind mother in front of us who heard my daughter’s Darth Vader breathing let us go ahead of her and her son.

We didn’t have to wait long at all, which was such a blessing. And all the excess activity in the waiting room actually distracted baby girl, so that was helpful.

The P.A. took a quick look at her and put her on the same med just in a liquid form. They even gave her the first dose (along with a dose of Children’s Motrin) in the office to get her feeling better ASAP.

We headed home to give her breakfast. Hubby left for work. Little Man was still in jammies. At least he was eating, that was a start.

I gave her a breathing treatment after she ate while the kids watched an episode of Super Why. Then it was upstairs for mommy to have a quick shower before we rushed out the door again.

We had to drop off her prescription at the pharmacy and luckily there was a Starbucks in the strip mall because my head was about to start throbbing from my lack of my usual 2 cups. Then we hit the barber so that Little Man could get a haircut before his big first day of preschool.

After that we had plenty of time to make it to my eye doctor appointment across town. The kids were amazingly well-behaved while we waited the extra 15 minutes before the doctor was ready to see me to check if the trial lenses she had set me up with were working (they weren’t). She said she’d order me a new pair to try and sent us on our way.

Back home we ate lunch and got Little Man ready for school. Baby Girl was jealous of his new backpack, so I found his old butterfly backpack which satisfied her for a little while when I told her she could pick out some toys to stuff in it. We got his snack together to take to school and took some pictures (okay, a lot of pictures) at the front door before hitting the road for what felt like the tenth time today. At this point, Baby Girl is starting to tear up at the mere sight of the car.

Drop off at his new preschool went so well! The only thing that is tough about it is the timing – he starts school at 12:45, which is usually the time his sister is napping. So I’m hoping over the next couple of weeks she’ll get used to napping later. For now, she fell asleep on the way to school, woke up when we had to get out and walk him to his classroom, and was up on the drive home. I prayed she would go back to sleep in her crib once we got home. Little Man was so excited and jumped right into meeting his teachers and new friends. It was really cute.

Now if I could have just let her sleep until I had to pick him up, it wouldn’t have been that bad. But, of course that’s not what happened today. She was asleep in her crib from 1pm while I worked, until I realized I had my psychiatrist appointment at 2pm (thankfully, she’s in the same building at the pedi) so I let her sleep until the very last minute I could and we made it to the appointment on time.

All the running around today was not very conducive to Baby Girl resting to kick this damn croup.

We were back home from 2:45pm (when I gave her a dose of Children’s Tylenol because she was so uncomfortable) until we had to leave to pick up her brother at 3:30. Thank heavens for carline pickup!! Seriously, it’s so convenient. Five cars line up at a time, the teachers walk those 5 kids (radioed from the Directors whose parents were there to get them) to their parent’s cars. Baby Girl got to snooze on. Little Man had such a fun day, but got annoyed with me that I kept asking him to tell me more. He gets such an attitude sometimes when he skips his nap, but we could only get PM preschool, so he’ll have to just make up for those M/W/F naps on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I treated the kids to McDonald’s strawberry milkshakes for the rough day we had.

The worst part about this crazy, hectic, so-over-my-kids-being-sick-and-cranky day? I completely forgot to call my mom and wish her a happy birthday.

I suck.

My phone rang at 6:58pm and when it was my Dad on the caller ID I didn’t even think of it then. Not until I answered and heard my mom’s voice instead.

“Hi honey! How was your day? Little Man feeling better?” she asked, cheerily.

“Okay. Yeah, he’s better, but I was at the pedia-OH MY GOSH! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I AM SOOOO SORRY, MOM!!!”

My heart sank. I wanted to cry, but instead spewed off all the things we did today only to feel even worse that I was making excuses for why I almost forgot.

Oh, and her card is also running a day late. Daughter-of-the-year over here.

I’m so sorry Mom. Please know that I’m still trying to figure out how to balance it all.

I know that things will never be perfectly aligned, that there will always be kids that get sick, work hours to put in, a house to clean, etc, etc. I just hope that I don’t ever potentially  forget another birthday in the future. (I like to think that I would have realized my mistake tonight after the kids were in bed, so let’s just give me the benefit of the doubt to make me feel a smidge better, okay?)

I love you to pieces and can’t wait for our beach trip in November where you’ll have a luxurious, relaxing facial at the spa to enjoy as your birthday gift from me. Thank you for being my mom. You mean the world to me.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

xoxo

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Mini book review: Perfect Chaos by Linea Johnson & Cinda Johnson

27 Aug
Book description from Amazon.com:
 
A dual memoir of a mother’s and daughter’s triumph over mental illness.
 
The Johnsons were a close and loving family living in the Seattle area – two parents, two incomes, two bright and accomplished daughters. They led busy lives filled with music lessons, college preparation, career demands, and laughter around the dinner table. Then the younger daughter, Linea, started experiencing crippling bouts of suicidal depression. Multiple trips to the psych ward resulted in a diagnosis of bipolar disorder, and it took many trial runs of drugs and ultimately electroshock therapy to bring Linea back. But her family never gave up on her. And Linea never stopped trying to find her way back to them.
 
Perfect Chaos is the story of a mother and daughter’s journey through mental illness towards hope. From initial worrying symptoms to long sleepless nights to cross-country flights and the slow understanding and rebuilding of trust, Perfect Chaos tells Linea and Cinda’s harrowing and inspiring story, of an illness that they conquer together every day. It is the story of a daughter’s courage, a mother’s faith, and the love that carried them through the darkest times.

 

My mother-in-law recently heard Linea and Cinda Johnson’s interview on NPR. She was captivated by the story of a young woman (Linea) who, not unlike her daughter-in-law, had fought a brutal fight with bipolar disorder. (And is winning the battle, I might add.) The book is told by the teenager who rapidly cycles between major depression and extreme mania and her mother who is torn apart by the crippling feeling of being so many miles away from her daughter when she needs her most.

Being so moved by the interview, my sweet mother-in-law immediately ran out and bought the book. I received it this past Friday and devoured it in two days. (I would have read it faster, but you know, with two little ones running around demanding food and water at times, I had to take breaks.)

 

Was it tough to read at times? Yes. Did it remind me of my manic episodes and hospitalizations? Yes. Did it make me cringe when I read Cinda’s accounts of what she and her husband went through to figure out what was going on with their incredibly talented younger daughter because those are some of the same emotions that I’m sure ran through my parent’s minds as they struggled for understanding when I first got sick? YES.

 

But I loved it so much. It made me want to tell all my friends and family to go buy it right now and read it. Read it so you’ll understand what I went through. Read it so you will understand what my family was dealing with when I was sick. Read it so you’ll know what an incredible husband I was lucky enough to marry. Read it so that you’ll have a better understanding of mental illness. Please. Read it.

 

There were so many parts of the book that made me whisper, “it was that way for me, too,” and “her time in the hospital sounds just like how my time in the nuthouse went.”

 

Here is the review I wrote on Barns & Noble and GoodReads.com:

This book is an amazing recollection of the trauma and stress a family
goes through when their daughter is suffering from and is ultimately
diagnosed with a mental illness. It takes you day by day through their
raw emotions and fragile feelings, so much so, that you feel as though
you are right there with them, fighting as hard as they were to keep
Linea alive and stable. Their story hits home hard for me, as it is
strikingly similar to my own. Reading Cinda’s words was difficult for
me, as I couldn’t help but think that those were the same emotions and
fears that my own parents experienced when I was first hospitalized. I
related so strongly to Linea’s descriptions of what her mind was
thinking during her darkest times. I would recommend this book to
anyone, not just a family dealing with a family member who has a mental
illness. It provides an insightful education to a normal person on what
someone who lives with a mental illness goes through and how support
from friends and family can mean the difference between life and death.

 

I am so proud of them for standing up and telling their stories. It is a goal of mine to someday share my story too. Reading their book made me even more excited to finish mine. Linea’s story is so incredible to me because she is so brave.

 

I want to be brave like Linea. I want to bare my soul to the world someday because I want people to know that mental illness is real and sometimes scary, but that it is possible to be a successful, loving, fun, caring, and healthy person even when you have a diagnosis like bipolar disorder. A great mom, even. I am.

So. I signed up to attend a writer’s conference in November. I am thrilled. It’s going to be just the kick-in-the-ass I need to finally finish my manuscript so that I can query literary agents.

I’ll get there someday. I’ll attain my dream of becoming a published author. One step at a time.

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Mommyhood has been good to me

26 Oct

The year after I was diagnosed, I found a support group for those suffering from Bipolar Disorder and I joined. I started attending meetings weekly and got to know some of the group members. Each week there were regulars and newbies. I found the group meetings helpful in my recovery process and my journey to accept this illness that I will be dealing with for the rest of my life. We would basically just go around the circle and each person would take a few minutes to talk about how their week was, how they were feeling, and then the group would offer suggestions on any issues they were struggling with. We weren’t supposed to talk about meds, but of course everyone had opinions on them so that often came up.

It was before we had started thinking about having kids. I was just trying to figure out what was going on with me and how I could best handle my severe anxiety and depression now that I was out of the state of mania that caused my hospitalizations. The last thing I was ready to think about was throwing kids in the mix, sometimes I felt like I could barely take care of myself. How would I ever be able to handle one baby, let alone the two I had always dreamed of. Yet I still knew it was something I wanted for us, and my husband had said he was ready to try whenever I felt that I was. He was (and is) always so patient about things.

If there is one thing I remember looking back on those meetings, it is this one woman. I can recall her so vividly, and find myself thinking of her from time to time, even though it’s been years since I’ve attended one of those meetings. She was very petite and seemed so frail, often shaking as she spoke during her time to talk at the meeting. She had two kids and if I remember correctly they were about 6 and 9 or something along those ages – a boy and a girl. And she was married too, it seemed her husband was pretty supportive and caring. But it made me so sad to listen to her talk. She was on such a potent cocktail of meds and yet, she was still struggling so much with her anxiety and depression. She often spoke of how she could barely get out of bed in the morning to fix her kids breakfast and get them off to school. I found myself wondering if that would be what it would be like to be a mom who had bipolar disorder and two kids.

I am so lucky. Her situation is the complete opposite of my life as a mom.

Sometimes when I put the kids to bed at night I’ll wish it was morning already so I could get them up to play again. Usually as they are walking up the steps to head up for bathtime, I think about how much I love being their Mommy. It’s the best job I could have ever asked for and I never want it to end. Today I found joy in the midst of changing a poopy diaper which had leaked. I had my 10-month old daughter all clean and as I propped her up, naked on the bottom half, so that I could wrap up the dirty diaper, she peed all over the hardwood floor while holding onto the baby gate. I couldn’t help but crack up laughing. It’s the little things. I should have taken a picture, but I was too busy laughing and cleaning up the mess.

I hope that my friend from the support group has been able to find a good doctor who found the best combination of meds and therapy for her to improve her situation. Because really, that is what it comes down to when you are living with bipolar disorder. A good doctor, the right meds, regular therapy and a solid support network.

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