Rising from the Ashes

Today is a momentous day for me.
It marks the two year anniversary of my journey towards recovery. It was Mother’s Day, 2011. My daughters were then 7 months old and three and a half years old. I was at a free yoga class twenty minutes from my home. At the class’ end, I lay in relaxation pose. I felt a peace I hadn’t felt in days, my body and mind relaxing into stillness and quiet. I hadn’t felt this in months.

It was on my way home from the yoga class, when I realized something was wrong. Just two days before, I had stood hiding in our bathroom, sobbing uncontrollably as my little girls stared at me. Where had all the piece and stillness disappeared to?

Every morning had been like this for me: frustration, tears, falling apart, at not being able to get both my three and half year old and my seven month old out of the door on time. There was yelling, screaming, a rage from being overwhelmed. Why couldn’t I do this? I only had two. I knew women who had more. My inner dialogue consisted of the same repeated word: failure.

The peace and stillness from Sivasana made me realize that something was wrong. It had been much too long since I hadn’t felt like a jangle of nerves. Truthfully, I had not felt right since my daughter was born nearly seven months ago. I was just surviving my life. I spent my days changing diapers, working full time, nursing, cleaning, and being with my family. I spent all my time outside of work with my husband and my daughters.

But I wasn’t really there; it was just a ghost of me.

I passed my days behind a mask of forced smiles and feigned interest. Parenting had become nothing more than a long check list of to-dos. Missed were the brilliant blue of my daughters’ eyes that are so much like their dad’s– replaced by only shades of gray and clouds everywhere. I knew enough to realize that I needed to ask for help. This wasn’t the mom I wanted to be for my girls; I wanted more for them.

My first step was to tell the person closest to me: my husband, Luke. Exploding into tears, I told him that I needed help. He told me that I had not been myself since I was pregnant with our youngest. He never knew what mood I was going to be in. My husband promised to support me in whatever I needed to do to get better. We decided to call a therapist.
Without knowing what to say, my fingers shook as I dialed the number of a therapist I found. I left a message for her, in a voice that sounded more like a frightened child than the grown woman I was. I heard myself leave my name, number. Sounding confused, I said, “This is Jennifer Gaskell. And something’s wrong. I think it’s anxiety. I want to be seen as soon as possible. I’m really struggling.”

I felt some relief after that call, but I still felt scared. I couldn’t do this alone. How could I explain and who would understand? The image of my sweet cousin’s face floated before me. I urgently called her familiar number. When she answered, the words tumbled out of my mouth. “It’s Jen. I’m not good. I think… I think I’ve got postpartum anxiety. I called and left a message for a therapist. I want to be seen right away.” I had to reassure her, “I am not going to hurt myself or the girls, but I need help soon. Can you tell me what to say so I can get seen as soon as possible?” And with that confession, the floodgates opened, with all the anguish and anxiety I had been carrying alone for months. I burst into tears. Two days later, I was in my therapist’s office.

My first therapy appointment, two years ago, was only one step of many – but it began my journey. Therapy along with medication controlled the overwhelming moments I was in, BUT the most comfort I found was peer to peer support online. The Internet saved my life, and the first blog I logged on to was Postpartum Progress — a site dedicated to providing mental health resources and support for women with postpartum issues. And from there, I found a springboard for a live twitter chat online called PPD chat – where women from all over the world log on and find themselves in a safe place, where we can ask for understanding, acceptance, and community.

It was as if someone had handed me a tank of oxygen when I could no longer breathe on my own – I was no longer alone in my struggle. I had found a community of what we call, Warrior Mamas, women like me who work hard to survive and help others survive postpartum mood disorders.

I feel myself being reborn, like a phoenix refined from the ashes of my postpartum depression and anxiety. I want to talk about what I went through to let other moms know that they are not alone – that’s why I started my blog. I am not afraid to tell my story. I am thriving, strong enough now to stretch beyond my comfort zone. I am no longer just surviving life. I am living it and loving it. Something I never thought I’d do again. I am recovering, and my journey has made me what I am today: the mother I want for my children.

Two years ago, I wasn’t even able to know how to ask for help. And now two years later, I am standing here, in front of you – telling my story, hoping that someone out there who needs to hear it, does.

And that they hear this – never give up hope.

• If you need immediate help, please call the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK(8255)
• If you are looking for pregnancy or postpartum support and local resources, please call or email us:
• Call PSI Warmline (English & Spanish) 1-800-944-4PPD (4773)
• Email support@postpartum.net

Tapping the Mic: Is This Thing On?

Is this thing on?  Taps the mic a few times.  Oh no, I have just gotten the evil eye from my technical director.  Tapping the mic is a no-no.  In all seriousness, I have the utmost respect for the technical director at our venue.  I have not and I would not tap that mic. 

Listen To Your Mother has consumed me, and it has been a magical journey which will come to an end tomorrow afternoon as our Milwaukee cast takes the stage.  I am equal parts nervous and exhilarated.  I feel at home on a stage, yet reading my words out loud in front of friends and strangers makes me vulnerable.  I believe strongly that everyone has a story to tell.  The beauty of LTYM is that “me too” moment that happens as I listen to all these stories.  Our cast is very diverse.  We truly are from around the entire metro Milwaukee area.  We celebrate our differences.  We recognize our commonalities by sharing our stories with each other.  That is truly magical.  I have met so many amazing people through this experience.  This project inspires and challenges me on a daily basis.  tomorrow the work of several months with my lovely partner in crime, Alexandra, we will have pulled it off!

Thank you to my patient and loving husband and daughters.  They have lived this project with me.  I want to thank my parents and my in-laws for their unwavering support.  Thank to our amazing cast.  Thank you to the Ann Imig, Stephanie Precourt, and Deb Rox of the national team for giving Milwaukee this opporutnity!  Thank you to the lovely Chicago team – Melisa Wells and Tracey Becker – who have responded to all my newbie questions with humor, grace and wisdom.  Break a leg to Chicago and Oklahoma City who are also hosting their LTYM shows tomorrow!

Why Girls, Why?

So there’s a funny meme going around the Internet now that was started by Kristin.  When you’re commanded by the Empress in a tweet no less, you cannot refuse.  She’s like the Godmother of the Internet except she is just as sweet in person as she is online.

Questions I Want To Ask My Children:

1. Why is remembering to use your inside voice so hard?  I cannot hear myself over all the shouting and screaming.  At this rate, I’ll need hearing aids before the teen years.
2. What is so funny about the words “poop”, “pee” and “fart”?  I mean, I know many comics have made millions on fart jokes, but my girls are wasting their comedic talents. 
3. Barbie and the Popstar?  Your dad and I are musicians and singers.  We have carefully cultivated an eclectic mix of music in rotation from the Beatles to the Beastie Boys, and yet you crave Carly Rae Jensen and anything Barbie sings.
4. I am trying to raise some feminist girls here.  Why do you insist on wearing pink and purple all.the.time? Look at my closet – see the rainbow of colors in there.  I promise you that red, green, blue and black are great choices. 
5. Do you have a contract somewhere that stipulates that we need glitter on everything – clothing, stickers, cards, etc.? Will I be cleaning glitter off my face until I am 80? 
6. Why do you not listen to what your dad and I tell you?  If you hear the same thing from any one of your six grandparents, you immediately comply with that request.  What are your dad and I – chopped liver?
7. Does the floor and carpet beg for you to sprinkle crumbs all over?  I would love to spend more time just hanging out instead of having to clean up.
8. Why do I have to make statements like “don’t sit on your sister’s head” and “only one person can pee in the potty at a time”? No really, I need to know.
9. Do you have a sixth sense that your dad and I are about to just hang out and enjoy each other’s company when you decide to scream for water, a lovey or someone to come “snuggle with me”? If so, can we employ this technique when you two are teenagers?
10. I know that every declaration of “You’re the best mommy ever” is meant to wrap me around your little fingers.  Trust me when I tell you I am a goner.  I’ll cherish those declarations of love when you are teenagers and telling me that you hate me. 

My Survivor Story at Home Life Simplified

Today I am guest posting on Debra Dane’s blog, Home Life Simplified.  I met Debra through our mutual friend, Ivy Shih Leung.  Debra does a monthly feature on her blog talking about postpartum mood disorders or PND (postnatal depression) as it is referred to in Australia.  I would be so grateful if you could visit me over there.

http://www.homelifesimplified.com.au/a-story-to-tell-jenny-gaskell-from-tranquila-mama/

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Sleeping beauty

I read this post by Deborah of Truthful Mommy, and it really struck a chord with me. I was watching my sweet Munch sleep the other night. She looked at the same time like the baby I nursed to sleep and the girl she is becoming. I cried thinking of how impatient I am with her.

She is just a little girl who wants her mommy’s attention so badly. I am making a concerted effort to spend more time with her alone. Since Skeeter takes a long afternoon nap, this is feasible. I know that she will be in school full-time next year, and I want to cherish every moment I have with her.

Munch is so sensitive just like I am. She had a hard time transitioning with her little sister. Part of that was due to my anxiety and depression. I wish I could erase those memories of how sick I was and how much I emotionally and mentally wasn’t there.

My sweet brave girl, I wish I could slow time down and keep you little for a little while longer. My job as your mama is to raise you to become independent. I love you so much, and your compassion shines through in all of your actions. Remember always how much I love you. Never forget that. Always keep your sweet, forgiving spirit. You teach me and inspire me every day.

Eleven Things

The sweet Kristin of Little Mama Jama tagged me in her post.

Here are the rules:

Someone chooses you.

You tell 11 things about yourself.

You answer 11 questions.

How fun! So, here goes:

11 Things About Me

1. I love musical theatre. I was in my first musical at the age of ten, and I became hooked.

2. I am a former dancer. I studied ballet for 6 1/2 years, pointe for 2 1/2 years. I also took tap and jazz. I was part of the pom pom squad in high school.

3. I used to play basketball. That sport was my other love. I played for seven years. I am short, so my position was either as a point guard or a shooting guard.

3. I am a deer hunter. I haven’t been deer hunting since my girls were born. Nursing and hunting do not mix that well.

4. I love to read. I am a total bookworm. When I get the chance, I can devour books. I have a list of 40 books that are on my list of “books to read” at our local library. Am I the only one who does this?

5. My vices are caffeine, chocolate and procrastination.

6. I am the only left handed person in my family. My husband and two daughters are all right handed just like my family of origin. This makes it hard to demonstrate how to tie shoes.

7. I am bilingual. I spent a semester in Spain, nad I feel in love with the country, the people and the lnaguee.

8. I lived with seven boys the summer before my senior year at my Catholic college. I then lived with fourteen women my senior year in what used to be an old convent.

9. I spent my early career working in a call center. I have so many stories that I would love to tell, but I don’t want my former employees to find me. I scandalize my coworkers with my stories of managing a call center.

10. I wanted to be the first female president of the United States when I was in middle school.

11. I am a total nerd, and I am okay with that. I love to research things that interest me like postpartum depression, genealogy, organizational culture, nonverbal communication, leadership, power and of course, shame courtesy of Brene Brown.

My Answers to Kristin’s Questions

1. When a movie based on a book comes out, would you rather see the movie or read the book? I would rather read the book.
2. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? I planned on being President of the United States.
3. If you had $1 million to give to any charitable organization, which one would you choose? I would donate to Postpartum Progress. Katherine and her website saved me.
4. What superpower do you wish you had? I would love to fly. Then I would not have to worry about a car. I would never be late, and I could visit friends whenever I wanted.
5. If you wrote a NY Times Bestseller, what would it be about?
6. What is your biggest pet peeve? Judgemental people. We could have a much better world if we would all listen and have open dialogues.
7. Do you have a weird habit? I don’t eat the crusts on my sandwiches.
8. Would you rather dance the Macarena, Gangnam Style or The Harlem Shake? Macarena. I was teased mercilessly in Spain about this song. I would not do the actual dance moves. I would be original.
9. What’s your favorite guilty pleasure TV show? One Tree Hill.
10. Dunkin’ Donuts or Starbucks? Starbucks.
11. Of all the blog posts that you’ve written, do you have a favorite? Why? My favorite is the one about my brother because I wrote it for my parents. That is the first time that I shared my posts with my extended family.

My 11 Questions

Connection and recognition

We crave connection.  As I listened to the LTYM auditions these past two weekends, I noticed the hunger for connection in my community. I felt inspired and honored to be able to give the gift of just listening to someone’s story for five minutes. I just listened. I did not ask questions or judge. I helped people feel like their story mattered. Have you ever felt those whole body hugs that is filled with emotion? I had so many of those hugs these past two weekends. My heart overflowed with joy and gratitude.

I started to reflect on how often I practice that in my daily life with my girls. I want to really listen, but sometimes my mind is so cluttered. I find it hard to focus. I suffer from what my friend Stephanie calls “squirrel brain”.

We all want to be SEEN and HEARD and KNOWN. How can we give this gift to ourselves and to each other? I know that I become frustrated with my girls when they do not listen. I know my girls become frustrated with me when I am not truly present. So I am going to dare greatly and try to give my girls each five minutes where I just listen and hear them. Now the challenge will be to let them each have five minutes without talking over each other.  Come listen to your mother, my little loves, and I will listen to you.