You are there

It's hard to not let myself think back 6 years ago on this night without some trepidation. The night before my second child was born just hours into the next day. The night that changed everything in my life. I wish I could run to that young woman, laboring in her home, hold her tight and say "you are going to get through what is to come, you are going to make it. Many times you will feel forsaken by God, but He never left your side."

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.

A few months before Nolan was born we made life altering changes. I left my job, became a stay at home mom and moved away from my friends and my life in Connecticut. I felt so alone and foreign in the beautiful fields of Lancaster. I remember crying almost everyday from the exhaustion of being pregnant and feeling like a failure as Mikayla and I tried to get used to spending all day together. I was frantically putting myself into every opportunity I could find to meet friends before the baby came and felt all the more distant when friendships didn't bloom overnight. It was overwhelming. It was stifling.

You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 

You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways. 

The day my sweet baby boy was born I remember gazing out my window at a tractor plowing the field next to the hospital and feeling listless. It seemed so wrong to be feeling that way when I was holding new life and joy in my arms, my heart double the size it was the day before. Those first few weeks were a blur of sleepless nights, adjustment, small victories and a slight heaviness that seemed to have settled itself in the recesses of my chest.

Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. 

You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. 

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, 

too lofty for me to attain. 

I used to get angry that postpartum depression took over after that. I used to feel robbed of my life during those years... I still do at times. The following 2 years, Nolan's birthday was a reminder of how far I hadn't gotten. That I was still depressed. That I still thought my family was better off without me. The lies were still speaking. My trust in God had faltered. A time that was supposed to be filled with joy and celebration had a dark cloud over it. For so long I wanted to yell and shake that young naïve woman..."You are about to go into hell, why did you let yourself get to this point, what are all of the things that you did wrong to deserve this fate, how could you have ever thought life was going to be good!?"

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 

If I go up to the heavens; you are there. If I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, 

even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

But then a small light shone through. Nolan's third birthday approached. I was anxious that I would tailspin into weeks of darkness. Two weeks before I had miscarried our precious baby and was still grieving the loss. I didn't know what to expect. The day before Nolan's birthday came and I didn't feel the heaviness, hopelessness and despair that my depression liked to lasso me with. Instead I felt light. For the first time since his birth I was able to truly celebrate. 

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

Here I am now. And as I was 6 years ago, living in a new State which is widely different from the Lancaster I grew to love. Once again I am without my life and community that was created so beautifully out of the ashes. But unlike the precious young woman of that night, I am here with a renewed spirit. God took me from the nothingness I became from my suffering and helped build me into a stronger, more empathetic and wiser person. I am still broken, I still have my days of mistrust and fear, but I know that He has done a good work in me. And for that I praise Him. 

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 

Tomorrow while the kids yell who gets what piece of cake, argue about whose present gets opened first and sing at the top of their lungs... I am going to stop and savor the gift of the day. I am here to live another day. I am here to feel the warmth of Nolan's cheeks as I engulf my sweet boy in kisses. I am here because God saved me and He still has so much left to do in my life. To God be the glory for all the great things He has done!

Psalm 139:1-14

Owning It

I was standing in my friend Margaret's kitchen shortly before we moved to Illinois when she remarked, "ElisaBeth you are a runner" to which I replied "um no" to which she replied "um yes" with a look that would not let me go until I begrudgingly replied "ok fine I guess I'm a runner." She looked triumphant.

I have found the overwhelming theme of my 36th year to be "owning it"... owning my confidence, my beauty, my strength and the truths in my life. I spent so much time rebuilding myself the last 5 years that I haven't stopped to see the amazing progress God has done in my life. Allowing myself to be proud of who I am is a very foreign concept, one which I am slowly learning to embrace. I am so grateful to friends, like Margaret, who often remind me and remain SO patient with my growth.

A few months ago my therapist asked me to find a "token" of what exemplifies my beauty. I have been mulling it over for weeks and weeks and I could not come up with anything... until today.

Running!!

Not exactly a token, but something I can look at in this season of life as my saving grace, a picture of what beauty and strength is to me and something I have followed through with.

A year and a half ago I sat down and opened up my journal to a page that asked for a list of dreams that would make this year the "best ever." I hadn't let myself think past tomorrow for 4 years. Getting through each day seemed like a feat in itself and even conversations about the weekend would send me into panic. I was finally at a place where I could think about tomorrow and not get overwhelmed. Think about tomorrow and not feel the immense heaviness of depression that would surely come when I awoke in the morning. It was exciting and freeing. And besides these were dreams... so the pressure was off if they didn't all come true.

my dreams

I wrote the list and one of the dreams was to run consistently for 1 year. I knew how much running helped my depression and  mental health in the past (check out my post Panic Made Me Run) and I wanted be consistent again and this time not stop. This was a way to challenge and help myself at the same time!

16 months and an estimated 630+ miles later I am still running and will be running my farthest distance race to date in 3 weeks. This last year has been filled with SO many challenges and unknowns and running as been my one constant. Putting on my shoes, listening to my breath and my feet hit the pavement and taking time for myself has been empowering and has given me the best mental health year since 2010.

In the past, the kind of curve balls life has thrown our family this year would have sent me into panic attacks and weeks of feeling down... instead I am equipped to use the tools I have learned to help me in those dark moments. Running has made it possible to quickly access the tool box.

The girl who wasn't sure she would be able to live another day battling her depression... made it. The girl whose saw herself as nothing... sees her worth. The girl who felt ugly inside and out... now catches glimpses of her beauty. The girl who didn't know if she believed in God anymore... understands His role in her life so much more then ever before. The girl who never thought she would run... RUNS!

Because of You

It's hard to believe that you, dear one, would have been 2 years old a few weeks ago. We would have had such a fun party. Your sister and brother would have doted on you, your daddy would have made sure the theme of the party was the one word you were saying the most and I would have drunk in the moments watching you turn from baby to kid, but still be thankful for the baby cheeks that would have stayed. Dear baby I miss you! I want you! I will always love you! 

Just tonight I was telling daddy how much joy your brother, Colin, brings to us. He is like the period to our sentences. The giggle after the hard day. Even when his lower lip sticks out and starts to quiver after I ask him to “please be gentle” we are still so in love with this little boy. 

He wouldn’t have been, if you were not.

This is SUCH a hard concept to comprehend when I think of you, baby, when I want you to know that I MISS you. I love you SO much and I can’t wait to see you and yet I am so thankful for your brother. I would have never known him if it weren’t for you. I never got to stuff my face into your neck and smell your sweet sweet smell, but because of you, I get to snuggle Colin whenever I want. 

Thank you for living with me those short weeks. Thank you for helping me hope that I could have another baby, that I was strong enough to combat my depression. Thank you for the joy that you brought me.

With you I was full, without you I have a piece missing and yet I am newly formed into a woman with more empathy, compassion, and dare I say, more love to give my children here on earth.

Thank you baby.