There is No Shame in Asking For Help!

I did something brave this week.

It wasn’t easy to do. It made me feel silly and nervous and like a failure.

But you see, after 5 months of trying to hold it all together and pretend that things were much smoother this time around, I hit a wall this week.

A week that followed a series of weeks, stuck in quarantine and away from my family (ahem- help, free baby sitting, a break, whatever you want to call it). 

A string of weeks where laundry piles have been never ending. I finally get a load folded and put away, only to replace it with the next load of thousands of tiny pieces of laundry needing to be folded. (Which the toddler promptly scattered about the living area)

A string of weeks where I realize as I am cooking dinner, that I am still in my pajamas and haven’t washed my face. Not in like…a cute “PJs all day” kind of way. Like in a “I’m a mess” sort of way.

A string of weeks where I struggled to get a single blog post written, deal posted in my deal group, a huge backlog of people requesting me to find things for them…my work list could go on.

A string of weeks where I realized I hadn’t sent a ministry partner update in two months. That’s a long time y’all! Not to mention the women I have failed to check in on.

A string of weeks where my baking orders made my kitchen look like a bomb went off. And I just didn’t have the energy to fix it.

A string of weeks where the 4 month old wouldn’t sleep unless she was touching me. And even then sometimes wouldn’t. Where we gave up and started bed sharing, despite my will to not do that this time around. Where the two year old woke up constantly at all hours of the night crying for us. 

A string of weeks where I haven’t gotten any one on one time with my husband, because typically the only time he isn’t busy, he’s helping me with the kids or I am trying to get the baby to sleep.

A string of weeks where I have had virtually no quiet time to sit with Jesus and fill up my cup.

And do any of these feelings mean I love my family any less?? Of course not! But there is only so much “feeling like a failure” that a person can take.

As I sat, frustrated with my baby for not doing what I wanted her to do…I had a realization. My postpartum depression is rearing it’s ugly head. As much as I don’t want to admit it, my short fuse with my family would say otherwise. And the most loving thing that I can do for my kids is to give them the mama they deserve and get help.

So I reached out. I talked to my nurse and then spent 20 minutes on the phone with my OB. We set up a treatment plan. I picked up a prescription. There is ZERO shame in this!

I share this really raw moment, mama, to encourage you. I know I am not alone. And I know that even if you aren’t in the postpartum depression stage (your kids may be teenagers!). This season is hard, y’all. Things are weird. The world is weird. 

If you feel off, talk to someone. Get help. There is NO shame! We are all in this together! I’d much rather you inbox me than go it alone.