My experience with Crisis at 28
So, on January 27, 1998, I gave birth to our third child, a beautiful baby girl. She is our D26. Her’s was a home birth, which went beautifully. We had an amazing midwife. D26 smiled almost as soon as she was born. Postpartum recovery was fine, physically. I breastfeed her, same as the others. I was ok until about 2 weeks postpartum, I started feeling overwhelmed
with the responsibility of caring for a newborn, in addition to a 2 and a 4 year old.
H was cranky, not exactly sure why. I just chalked it up to us not having relations since the baby was born. My father, called a few times to yell at me about my not going back for my Masters degree in art and or teaching. I had paid for half of school myself and took out loans for the rest, to get my bachelors degree in art. I didn’t exactly have the money to go back to school and I didn’t want to get further in debt.
H became more grumpy and demanding. At 6 weeks, the midwife came over for a well mom/baby check. I just broke down and let everything out and told her how depressed I was and everything that had been going on. D26 was happy and in good health, I was physically fine, just depressed and stressed.
She told me to start taking St. John’s Wort for the depression and she called another lady in our Mom group to come out to help me for a couple weeks. I was able to get back on my feet and develop a routine. Meanwhile, I had gone from depressed to having periods of time where I just felt flat. I didn’t like that feeling. Up till then, I had been having feelings of an existential nature. What am I here for exactly? What have I done of lasting value? I knew I wouldn’t always be here. Someday, I will die like everyone else who has gone before me. I felt like no matter what I did, no one was happy. I remember when I was in school, I felt pressured to perform academically. I was in honors classes. I felt pressured to attend the same university my father had attended, to follow in the his footsteps and get my degree. When I got my degree, there was no “Congratulations”, from my parents. It was, “Hey, when are you going back for your Masters degree?” I explained that I wanted to work freelance for awhile and stay home with D32, who was 2 months old at the time. I felt pressured to keep up with H’s expectations that seemed to increase exponentially after D26 was born.
The thing is that any one of these things alone; a degree, marriage, babies are all wonderful things. I was happy to have them all! What started to tick me off was no matter what I did, no one was happy with me. I started to think maybe it was easier to please God, than people. 😐 At this point, I was at my lowest point. H wondered why I just didn’t snap out of it. I told him I wasn’t like this because I wanted to be. I called the midwife and told her I felt like nothing. She came over and we talked. She told me that God was there for me and wanted me to lay down my burden and to turn to him for help. She prayed with me and went home. For the next two weeks I prayed daily for him to reveal things I needed to ask Him to forgive me for. In short, I came to the conclusion that I was prideful, insulting, insensitive, and glossed over my own faults in order to feel like I was better than I was. There is a Reddit group titled, “AITA”. In short, the conclusion someone beginning to come out of crisis needs to come to is, I am the @$$hole. So, about 4 months later, on April 24, 1998, I received the Lord into my heart and I have been walking with Him ever since.