Rejoice: A Whole Year of Firsts

A Whole Year of Firsts. All those milestones that people look forward to. That first time your tiny newborn can actually make eye contact, holds your finger, smiles, coos. That adorable first laugh, rolling over after you have tried so hard to help your little one figure it out. Sitting up on her own, speaking words, waving “bye-bye”, crawling, holding her own bottle/cup, eating finger foods, standing, taking that first step! Not to mention all the first holidays! Such joyous, memorable occasions…. Right?

I know I talked about this in my last blog post, but I am bringing it up again because something happened. Another first for Olivia. Something I was looking forward to because I am fully, emotionally, mentally present and capable of making memories with her. PPD wouldn’t have the ability to steal this milestone from me – the last of her firsts from the “baby stage”.

And… I missed it.

My healthy, fully present minded self MISSED IT.

Let me rewind a couple weeks. We celebrated Thanksgiving early so that we could celebrate together with my sister and her family. After over-indulging on the delicious food, everyone was winding down just relaxing. My mind needed a bit of a break, so I stayed sitting at the table, while they all gathered in the living room. My niece and nephew are so amazing with Olivia, and they were there playing with her, encouraging her to take a step every time she stood up. She is notoriously stubborn, and will not budge, but rather quickly sits instead. However, as I am seated at the table, I suddenly hear: “Oh, oh, she did it! No way! Yay Olivia! Babe, she took a step! You missed it!”. I jumped up, knowing it was too late, bile in my throat and tears stinging my eyes, to see her already seated on her bottom. Of course they tried to get her to do it again, but it didn’t really matter in my mind. I had missed it. And I had missed it because I was taking a break to keep my mind from being overwhelmed. So by trying to respect my boundaries, I had missed such a huge moment. So did I actually let PPD take this from me too?

I quickly excused myself to the bathroom to practice some deep breaths and stave off the tears fighting to let loose. There was so much joy in that front room. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin that moment for everyone else. So I did my best to go back out and engage, but my mood had taken a nosedive.

And so here I sit, realizing that this is the normal part of life – actually missing milestones. Every parent goes through it, and I have to learn how to manage the emotional fallout from that without always tying it to everything else I have missed. Because in my mind I put it all together. And it is not the same. These are moments that I physically don’t get to witness and be a part of because sometimes that is how life happens. The majority of Olivia’s first year of life I was physically present for most of her milestones and yet have no memories of any of them. That is such a difficult, dark thing to process. It is something I am working through in therapy, and something that will always be present as I grieve that time lost. But I have to remain cognizant of these normal parenting moments and “missing out” and to not get lost in the emotion of the prior lost memories; to be able to keep those separate, or else I will drown every time I miss something. Because I realize I had put all my hope in that one moment. If only I could have that one moment, then maybe it would make up for not having any of the other memories. I know that makes no sense…. A PMAD mind is not exactly rational, so there is that. But I had placed all my eggs in that basket. That somehow, if I could have that, it would be okay. And let’s be honest, it wouldn’t have changed anything…. But not being able to see it for myself and realize it on my own just wrecked me. And I spiraled.

“What makes you think you deserve to be her Mom? You literally have no memories of any of her milestones. Were you even there?”

“You don’t deserve this beautiful child.”

“You don’t deserve your amazing husband.”

“They don’t need you.”

“You should really let them go and stop dragging them down so they can have a happy life already.”

“Everything is always about you. You’re so selfish. Olivia took a step and here you are crying about yourself and your emotions. Get over it.”

On and on and on.

Your mind can be your biggest enemy. The conversations that go on in there can be the most detrimental. This is why therapy is so important. Because you have these thoughts in your mind, and then you only see the things that affirm those negative self-beliefs, as I did on that day. Rather I should have been acknowledging that I was utilizing skills learned to manage my PMD so that I could be present and fully invested in the day. And you know what? I missed something. Something that I had placed a lot of misplaced expectations on. And you know what else? Missing things is part of a normal motherhood journey. So do I just keep beating myself up for being there and missing it? Or do I rejoice in that God has brought us so far this year that we are able to be a part of celebrations without my devolving into panic attacks and tears; that I actually recognize Olivia as my daughter and love her so incredibly much that it absolutely killed me to miss those steps; that I still get the chance to do this life with my family?

Rejoice.

In all things.

Rejoice.