The next few weeks are shaping up to be pretty emotional for me.
First, tomorrow is the publication day for Mothering Through the Darkness: Women Open Up About the Postpartum Experience. This powerful book challenges the myths about and breaks the silence on postpartum depression, with essays by 35 contributors describing their postpartum experience in raw, honest detail.
And I’m one of them.
I’ve written before about my journey through the proverbial “dark night of the soul,” but some of the blackest parts remained hidden, even from my husband and family.
But they’re in this book. Because mothers need to know THEY ARE NOT ALONE.
They need to know that even though they might feel completely shattered right now, IT IS POSSIBLE TO BECOME WHOLE AGAIN.
When I reread my essay a few days ago after receiving my advance copy of the book, my heart pounded as I began to relive the fear, the panic, and the near-nothingness I felt during my darkest days. And I desperately wished six-years-ago-me had been able to pick up a book that described what I was experiencing: not the glow of motherhood, but what felt like a thick film of soot — and poopy diapers.
Let me share with you a short excerpt of my essay in the book:
We often see two extreme versions of the new mother — smiling and serene, or murderously crazy. The media give us airbrushed images of celebrity mamas, with gorgeous postpartum bodies, pushing their bundles of joy in designer strollers. Or they give us Susan Smith archetypes, like Carrie in Homeland, who abandons her baby (after nearly drowning her) to escape to the safety and stability of fighting terrorists in Islamabad. These polarized archetypes make no room for the vast middle ground in which we mother. They make no room for serenity and rage to exist in the same person. They make no room for ambivalence. They make it really hard to recognize when we need help.
I resisted getting professional help for the longest time. At first, I didn’t think I was actually depressed. Depression medication commercials showed people who couldn’t even get out of bed, despite that adorable dog looking at them with the sad face wanting to play ball. I get out of bed every day and go to work and make dinner — if I were depressed, I wouldn’t be able to function!…
I figured I would just have to make peace with the fact that I would be a mom who didn’t really like motherhood, who played the part even though it didn’t feel quite right. I can’t reveal my terrible thoughts to anyone, I told myself. I can make this work.
And then one day I smashed a plate on the kitchen counter out of frustration with my children. It wasn’t working. I hadn’t found peace. I picked up the phone and told my doctor, “My baby is already sixteen months old, but I think I have postpartum depression.”
I’ve come a long way since my plate-smashing days, but I can still be thrown for a loop when I think about how bad things were.
Even talking to my parents a few days ago about this book dredged up forgotten episodes, painful reminders of the dark hole I didn’t even realize I was in.
As I dealt with the emotions stirring up in me, I spent some time the other day rereading Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. I was struck by this line: “In some way, suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning.”
I experience a calming peace knowing my suffering HAS found a meaning. As I’ve written many times before, I crawled out of the dark hole with a lovely combination of medication and meditation (and I always marvel at how those words differ by only one little letter!) As I started getting treatment for my depression, I began to learn about mindfulness. I read Buddhism for Mothers, and it CHANGED. MY. LIFE.
I realized my thoughts were just thoughts. I realized that thinking I was a terrible mother who wouldn’t like motherhood didn’t mean I ACTUALLY WAS a terrible mother. Those were just thoughts. They weren’t true. They weren’t me. They would come and go, and I didn’t have to engage them or even believe them.
I read and learned more about mindfulness…. I started meditating every day…. In April 2013 I started this blog…. I started teaching mindfulness to my kids… and to teachers at my school. I started writing about mindfulness on the Huffington Post and PsychCentral…. I started incorporating mindfulness into my classroom…. I began training with Mindful Schools and recently completed their 300-hour, year-long certification program.
I realized I had transformed my dark night of the soul into a powerful way to bring light to the world. I had found meaning in my suffering. I began to wonder if my purpose was to bring mindfulness to others….
And then last fall, my dear friend Liv Lane (who has also written bravely about her experiences with postpartum depression and PTSD) announced an online course she was leading with her dear friend, artist Lori Portka. Liv would be channeling messages from Spirit (her angel guides) to share with participants “clear direction and divine inspiration to jumpstart your own spine-tingling journey to joy and fulfillment.” I jumped at the chance for a course that would help me explore my questions about meaning and purpose.
{Insert reader’s inner voice}: ****Um, hello, LEFT-BRAIN Buddha!?! Channeled messages??? I’m here because I like my mindfulness with the woo-woo on the side…. like, way on the side!****
I know, I know…. bear with me. Were the messages channeled from spirits to my friend Liv? I don’t know. Were the messages just created by Liv herself, who is (like all of us) a collection of stardust from a beautiful universe? I don’t know.
And I don’t think it really matters. Liv’s words about purpose and intention and joy and nurture and abundance and hope are beautiful and inspiring. And Lori’s artwork that accompanies the messages is absolutely… well, divine!
The very first lesson in the course featured this message (now hanging in my office surrounded by twinkle lights):
I gasped when I saw it!
I’m the girl on the bike!
I got an inkling that I was meant to step off the beaten path (the classroom I’d been in for 17 years, with security and a retirement plan), and venture into the wild unknown.
I was meant to bring mindfulness to the world! And here I am, almost a year later, doing just that!
And how … funny, random, interesting… that just six days after Mothering Through the Darkness is released, the book version (with gorgeous artwork and lots of space for journaling) of Liv and Lori’s course, Infinite Purpose: Care Instructions for Your True Calling, will be released! And look whose story is featured in the first chapter….
So yes, the next few weeks are shaping up to be powerful, emotional, and profoundly healing. My suffering has truly, amazingly transformed into something that has meaning and purpose.
I’ve spent the last few weeks and months teaching mindfulness sessions to teachers, preparing mindfulness programs for teens, and now today I am launching my first-ever session of Mindfulness for Mothers. In that class, I’ll be leading (as of Sunday morning) over 70 mamas on a powerful journey to mindful motherhood, helping them begin a mindfulness practice, and sharing practical, do-able ways to nurture themselves and hold themselves with compassion. We’ll learn how to deal with the powerful thoughts and emotions that come with the mama-territory, and discover ways to parent mindfully, calmly, and compassionately.
Indeed, it’s quite a journey that’s coming full circle this month.
Whether you’ve been with me for several years of this journey, or just for a few days, I wish you — mothers, fathers, human beings — joy and purpose and meaning.
“Man’s main concern is not to gain pleasure or to avoid pain but rather to see a meaning in his life.”
Viktor Frankl
***I wouldn’t be a very good new business owner if I didn’t mention here that you can still register for Mindfulness for Mothers through the end of this week ?. The class starts today — click the link below to learn more and register.***
***This post contains affiliate links. If you click on an Amazon link and make a purchase, I will earn a small commission, at no additional cost to you.
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