Is it still called Post-Partum Depression when your baby is 8 years old?

I'm about to admit something crazy that may just blow your mind...my husband never wanted to be a parent.  And wait for it...neither did I.  But good Christians are taught to make good Christian babies. So we did.  Two kids later and you would think we'd have accepted the fact that we are, indeed, parents now.  God has blessed us with two beautiful little girls that are the epitome of both my husband and I.  (In both good ways and bad).  You'd think that'd we'd have it all figured out as Mom and Dad 8 years later.  That there would be days that go by where we aren't completely consumed by stress, anxiety, and feelings of inadequacy.  But there aren't.  Like, at all.

For two glorious days, my sweet (and brave!) sister-in-law took the girls for some cousin time.  That side of the family could be moving several states over any day now, so family time has become very precious to us.  That meant I got two whole days, in my own home, that didn't involve travelling, BY MYSELF.  I could sleep in, take a nap whenever I wanted, eat whenever and whatever I wanted (no sneakily eating that second cupcake in the closet), and follow my own schedule for once.  Do you think any of the above actually happened?  No (well, beside the eating two cupcakes part).  I woke up before dawn everyday, buzzed around with more energy than I knew what to do with, and then wasted said energy on reading a slightly inappropriate romance novel (hey, the writing was superb). To say the least, our short mini stay-cation was fantastic and relaxing with no pressure to perform as Mom and Dad.

But when we picked up our sleepy girls with their newly brightly painted toenails, all my old emotions came flooding back.  Emotions I had forgotten about because for the last almost 8 years they have been my "normal".  From the time the girls put on their seat belts and spoke their first words since being back in our care, I felt a tightness in my chest.  I had difficulty breathing.  I felt the start of a headache creep in on my forehead.  I felt anxious, on edge, inadequate, and fearful.  I felt geared up and ready for battle.  Ready to repeat myself at least ten times and stop a sibling fight before it even started.    Like a two ton Thomas the Train on my shoulders, I discovered the source of all my health problems in one fleeting moment.  The anxiety, stress, exhaustion, and headaches; its called Motherhood.  I ask you, is it still called Post-Partum Depression when they're nearly 8 years old?

Anyway, as the day wore on and I tucked them into bed WAY past their bedtime, I glanced at their half-asleep faces snuggled tight against their blankies, and in that brief moment there was peace. When the day is done and the crumbs swept up (or not) and the laundry folded (or not), there is peace in motherhood.  It's fleeting, but its there.  Its the little gift from God that reminds me that nobody died today despite the fact that I'm an imperfect mom who made a bunch of imperfect mistakes all day long.  A reminder that He was there calming those feelings of anxiety all along.  And strengthening my mom muscles against inadequacy at the same time.  A reminder that even though I have to do it ALL OVER AGAIN tomorrow (blah), He'll be there for that too.  

Each new phase in life brings with it a whole new set of worries.  What I worry about in their lives now is temporary.  Next year I'll worry about something new.  Something to stress about or feel anxious about as a mom will probably always loom over me.  But the Lord will be looming there too. I know He'll still love them more that I ever could because His love is perfect and mine is not.  He'll also still calm my anxiety and re-store my sanity, all while these two little ladies call me Mom.

"He shall cover you with His feathers, And under His wings you shall take refuge...You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, Nor the arrow that flies by day..." Excerpt from Psalm 91.
"When my anxieties multiply, your comforting calms me down".  Psalm 94:19 (Common English Bible Version)        

It's a Chicken Day Miracle!

This morning I woke up with an old hymn on my heart..."How deep the Father's love for us, How vast beyond all measure.  That He should give His only Son to make a wretch His treasure..."  (Everyone sing it now!).  Anyway, here's why: an answered prayer.  A simple little "chicken prayer" as I've dubbed it.  A couple years ago my sister in law wanted chickens for her backyard.  Hubby said no, naturally.  Turns out when you grow up on a farm of sorts you have no desire later in life to care for domesticated backyard chickens.  She prayed with faith knowing her Heavenly Father's love and interest in the little details of her life.  And lo and behold, one day a buff orphington chicken meandered through her yard!  (This just so happened to be her favorite kind).  She tried to get rid of it before my brother in law came home that day, but to no avail.  The silly hen stuck around so long he was forced to build a coop and add more hens to the roost just to make it worth the effort!  I have been begging/nagging/kindly and patiently asking my husband for chickens for several months now.  The whole allure of being somewhat self-sufficient on our 115 acres teases me with the promise of farm-fresh eggs, home grown veggies, and maybe someday, a cow for burgers.  (We'll start small).  But "no" for an answer must be an inherited trait, because I received the same response to my chicken plea as my sis in law did.  So I prayed.  If God could answer her chicken prayers surely He would answer mine.  And last night, He did.  When exciting or inappropriate things happen I tend to giggle.  It's not my proudest feature.  Laughing hysterically when you see your kids trip or someone says the word "penis" kinda comes off as immature.  Who knew.  But when I received a call from my Grandma, randomly asking if I wanted all her chicken stuff (coop, feeders, food, and hay), all I could do was giggle.  Hubby couldn't protest my giggles.  Or say no to his dear old granny.  :). How good is my Father?!  A silly request for silly chickens, but He knows my heart.  He knows my desires.  He knows the simple goodness of a farm-fresh egg because He created them.  How deep the Father's love for us?  Boundless.  
Ephesians 3:16-19. Read it and soak it up.

An Open Letter on Father's Day

I've known some pretty cool dads in my day.  My own just wasn't one of them.  Father's Day falls under that category of "holidays I choose to ignore".  I try not to reflect on the fact that I have never met my dad and instead try to wish the other dads in my life a Happy Dad's Day this time each year.  I can count on one hand the facts I know about my own dad actually.  Number one being that he is Persian.  But I still have never even seen a picture of him.  I can only google "Persian Men" as a reference and hope google doesn't get any crazy ideas.  By the way, if you do this expect a lot of dating sites to pop up.  I have no idea where these eyes of mine came from.  Whose nose I got (although let's face it, it's obviously my most prominent Middle Eastern feature).  Or which personality traits or talents we share.  I do not know what it is like to be encouraged by my father or have him wipe my tears away. This morning in church our pastor had us write an open letter to our dads in honor of Father's Day.  Really, if he wanted to get us all to cry he could've just played one of those ASPCA commercials and asked us to support all those sickly little malnourished puppies.  Anyway, I am going to go ahead and show you what I wrote.  Not for sympathy points, but to bring hope to the others who never knew their daddies.  I was not the only one writing that open letter today at Way of Life Fellowship from a place of hurt and brokenness.  I am not the only one who never met their daddies, or worse, saw their daddies walk away and shared in their mama's hurt in the process.  I can say from experience that my Heavenly Father is the only one who has never and will never walk away.  He has dried ever tear I have ever cried (that's a whole lot).  And His word brings healing and encouragement to my very soul everyday.  He'll do the same for you, whether you've got a daddy right now or not.  Here is that letter:
Dear Dad,
You are a coward.  You have missed out on knowing three beautiful, strong, and passionate girls.  You had the opportunity to grow with me, to love and teach me, and to share in the generational blessings of this life through your two granddaughters.  You chose pride, fear, and selfishness over joy, hope, and love.  I pray for your soul.  That despite your human-ness you will experience the redemptive love of Jesus Christ.  I pray that your walk with Him will bring healing with each and  every step.  Your personal relationship with Jesus , may be the only connection we ever have.  For that much, I am grateful.  And because of my Heavenly Father I am capable of loving you, Earthly Father, wherever you are.  Happy Father's Day.
Love,
Your Daughter, Aimee