So, for a few weeks now I have been having what was assumed to be gallbladder pain. I went in yesterday for my confirmation ultrasound, to confirm indeed that it was my gallbladder. We were then going to make a plan from there. Oh plans. They never work do they?
Good news: gallbladder is normal, healthy, perfect.....well except for the large baby head, hands, and feet that are pressing against it. Yep, you heard me right, I've got a breech baby in there. A frank breech baby to be exact. Now, this is fine. I've been through this many times before, the thought of a breech baby in itself doesn't freak me out. Even the knowledge that I will most likely have to have a c-section doesn't freak me out. The thing that freaks me out is that during the ultrasound they found that the cord is wrapped around the babies hand. At first I thought 'well at least its not the neck', and although that is true, a pinched cord, is a bad bad thing.
So of course I did what any logical person would do: went online. Yikes. Online you find tons of stories of babies dying due to a cord being wrapped around their neck, but you also find a slew of stories of babies dying from their cords being wrapped around other places: like their foot.
Oh holy heck. What am I supposed to do with this info?
Trust God.
Yep.
It just feels that lately, in my life, trusting God usually doesn't go in my favor. I know that sounds horrible. And it is. But again I said thats what it feels like. Feelings don't often match up with truth.
The idea of having to deliver my little Ozzy, dead, because of something stupid like the cord being wrapped around his hand, is a little unbearable right now. And it should be. I am analyzing every feeling I've been having, everything he is doing, trying to figure out if he is in danger. I want his hand to slip out of the cord, but then again, if it does, then there is a huge chance of a knot forming where his hand was.
I want to trust God, I really do, but I don't. I trusted him with Noah, that tanked. I trust him with my marriage, that fails often too.
I know trusting God is the right thing to do, and really the only option, but right now, it doesn't sound like a good plan at all.
Please don't be alarmed. I am not having a crisis of faith. I am just one who believe that the Lord would rather us admit the fault of how we are actually feeling, than fake the perfection of false emotion.
He knows I am having a hard time trusting him right now. Why pretend?
If what's going to happen is what's going to happen, what's the difference anyways?
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Perspective.
Life is all about perspective isn't it.
Dealing with a miscarriage is a cake walk compared to this.
Begging for Christ's swift return. I'm ready.
Dealing with a miscarriage is a cake walk compared to this.
Begging for Christ's swift return. I'm ready.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
He Lied.
I'll spare the details, but today is one of those days where you honestly think:
"This must be a nightmare, this cannot be reality, I cannot survive this, when am I going to wake up?"
Then you realize it's real life for sure, and you just don't get the freaking point anymore.
Really Lord? Really?
Don't understand why so many things have met me at this one intersection of time.
The Lord promises He won't give us more than we can handle. I think He lied.
Ya, He lied.
"This must be a nightmare, this cannot be reality, I cannot survive this, when am I going to wake up?"
Then you realize it's real life for sure, and you just don't get the freaking point anymore.
Really Lord? Really?
Don't understand why so many things have met me at this one intersection of time.
The Lord promises He won't give us more than we can handle. I think He lied.
Ya, He lied.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Check Up.
So a few days during this last week little Xavier's movements were SO SO painful, and the only thing I could figure is that he had moved head down. I thought my suspicions were confirmed when how movements afterwords starting feeling different.
Today at the appointment the Doc basically figured out that she thinks he was head down, and I probably actually felt him flip around the other way: head up. He's breech. I have another appointment in two weeks, and if he still kicks her in the hand when she's trying to feel for his head in my lower abdomen, we'll have to do another ultrasound. It's still a little early, so hopefully he'll flip back over, but he's getting so big I honestly don't know how he has much room left for acrobatics. If he doesn't flip, the chances of a c-section are pretty high.
The funny thing is: I don't really care. I of course do not want to deal with the hard hard recovery from a c-section, and the risks of that procedure, but at this point in my life, I just want a baby in my arms, I don't care how he gets there.
With the girls I was SO opinionated about how they should arrive. I wanted to have them naturally. There were several reasons: 1) It contained the least amount of risks to me and baby. 2) I felt like I needed to prove that I could do it naturally. 3) It was the fad.
It still is the fad. People are constantly talking about how midwifery and birth centers are the best option, and honestly: I don't buy it. I think that, like everything else in life, is subject to individualism. There may be some individuals where using a midwife is the best option, but that's just not for me. I've had to be induced for both girls: Kid A: 9 days late, 9 pounds 8 ounces, Kid K: 13 days late, 10 pounds, 6 ounces. With the little sis, if I had been at a birth center, or at home, she would have died. She had severe respiratory distress symptoms, most likely caused by her quick plunge down my birth canal (7 minutes of pushing, 2 contractions worth of pushing, 2 pushes in all....not enough to clear the lungs), and showed signs of infection from birth. Because of the immediate response of the hospital staff, her life was saved, and I will FOREVER be SO thankful to them.
I think because of this, and because of my miscarriage, I just don't care anymore. The life of a child is such a huge blessing, I don't really think we should be so picky about its arrival. I remember a wise women, when I was pregnant with my first, saying to me "Women often spend so much time thinking about, planning for, and nitpicking about the birth of their baby, that they miss out on the responsibility of preparing spiritually and emotionally for the addition of a new person to their family." I have seen this to be true in myself and others. The responsibility God gives us in loaning us one of his own for a time, is truly miraculous. He entrusts his most precious creations to people he can guarantee are going to screw up.
So if Ozzy flips around and I can have him vaginally (yep I said vaginally) like the girls, that's great. But if to ensure the safety of his life and mine we need to do a c-section, fine by me. Of course the procedure does sound scary because any major surgery sounds scary, but I have to trust the Lord with that one.
All I can say for sure is that we have been nothing but pleased in our experiences with hospitals, and for us, they have been literal life savers, never endangered us in any way. I have been nothing but blessed in my birthing experiences, they have both been magical, isn't every childbirth. I am SO thankful the Lord has given medical wisdom to some of His people. What an enormous gift to us all.
So sorry world. I'm not going to sacrifice the safety of my precious little Ozzy just to jump in with the fad. We'll be using a hospital, most likely doing an induction (if not a c-section), and I'll be receiving as many pain meds as they'll give me.
If I ever did have anything to prove, I've already done it. I was induced twice (far more painful of a labor I hear), and delivered two very large babies vaginally with minimal pushing and NO pain meds.
It was wonderful. It was torturous.
And I will never, ever do that again.
On another note, the morning sickness is coming back. First time in the history of pregnancy for me to be feeling it so late in the game. Just so blessed that I'm only 9 weeks out. Doing it for 20 weeks of this pregnancy was hard enough. 9 weeks seems like a walk in the park compared to that.
The end is in sight. I'm feeling thankful, blessed, excited, and content. God's gonna write this story like all the others before.
Can't wait to see how its gonna unfold.
The only thing I care about is holding my live baby X in my arms sometime in November, and getting to live a long healthy life with him and the rest of my zoo.
Today at the appointment the Doc basically figured out that she thinks he was head down, and I probably actually felt him flip around the other way: head up. He's breech. I have another appointment in two weeks, and if he still kicks her in the hand when she's trying to feel for his head in my lower abdomen, we'll have to do another ultrasound. It's still a little early, so hopefully he'll flip back over, but he's getting so big I honestly don't know how he has much room left for acrobatics. If he doesn't flip, the chances of a c-section are pretty high.
The funny thing is: I don't really care. I of course do not want to deal with the hard hard recovery from a c-section, and the risks of that procedure, but at this point in my life, I just want a baby in my arms, I don't care how he gets there.
With the girls I was SO opinionated about how they should arrive. I wanted to have them naturally. There were several reasons: 1) It contained the least amount of risks to me and baby. 2) I felt like I needed to prove that I could do it naturally. 3) It was the fad.
It still is the fad. People are constantly talking about how midwifery and birth centers are the best option, and honestly: I don't buy it. I think that, like everything else in life, is subject to individualism. There may be some individuals where using a midwife is the best option, but that's just not for me. I've had to be induced for both girls: Kid A: 9 days late, 9 pounds 8 ounces, Kid K: 13 days late, 10 pounds, 6 ounces. With the little sis, if I had been at a birth center, or at home, she would have died. She had severe respiratory distress symptoms, most likely caused by her quick plunge down my birth canal (7 minutes of pushing, 2 contractions worth of pushing, 2 pushes in all....not enough to clear the lungs), and showed signs of infection from birth. Because of the immediate response of the hospital staff, her life was saved, and I will FOREVER be SO thankful to them.
I think because of this, and because of my miscarriage, I just don't care anymore. The life of a child is such a huge blessing, I don't really think we should be so picky about its arrival. I remember a wise women, when I was pregnant with my first, saying to me "Women often spend so much time thinking about, planning for, and nitpicking about the birth of their baby, that they miss out on the responsibility of preparing spiritually and emotionally for the addition of a new person to their family." I have seen this to be true in myself and others. The responsibility God gives us in loaning us one of his own for a time, is truly miraculous. He entrusts his most precious creations to people he can guarantee are going to screw up.
So if Ozzy flips around and I can have him vaginally (yep I said vaginally) like the girls, that's great. But if to ensure the safety of his life and mine we need to do a c-section, fine by me. Of course the procedure does sound scary because any major surgery sounds scary, but I have to trust the Lord with that one.
All I can say for sure is that we have been nothing but pleased in our experiences with hospitals, and for us, they have been literal life savers, never endangered us in any way. I have been nothing but blessed in my birthing experiences, they have both been magical, isn't every childbirth. I am SO thankful the Lord has given medical wisdom to some of His people. What an enormous gift to us all.
So sorry world. I'm not going to sacrifice the safety of my precious little Ozzy just to jump in with the fad. We'll be using a hospital, most likely doing an induction (if not a c-section), and I'll be receiving as many pain meds as they'll give me.
If I ever did have anything to prove, I've already done it. I was induced twice (far more painful of a labor I hear), and delivered two very large babies vaginally with minimal pushing and NO pain meds.
It was wonderful. It was torturous.
And I will never, ever do that again.
On another note, the morning sickness is coming back. First time in the history of pregnancy for me to be feeling it so late in the game. Just so blessed that I'm only 9 weeks out. Doing it for 20 weeks of this pregnancy was hard enough. 9 weeks seems like a walk in the park compared to that.
The end is in sight. I'm feeling thankful, blessed, excited, and content. God's gonna write this story like all the others before.
Can't wait to see how its gonna unfold.
The only thing I care about is holding my live baby X in my arms sometime in November, and getting to live a long healthy life with him and the rest of my zoo.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
I Promise.
I think the only one thing that makes me a good mother, is that I'm not under the illusion that I am a good mother.
I hope to always know this.
I am fully aware that one day, in their adult life, my children will be reflecting these years back to me in a mirror of their words and actions. They will have many complaints and corrections.
I know this will be painful, but I say: BRING IT.
I am flawed little angels, in everything I do, in the moment, I believe it is the right choice, but all I look back upon now are 4 years of awful mistakes.
I will cry with you one day over the mistakes I have made and the burden they added to your life.
I promise.
I hope to always know this.
I am fully aware that one day, in their adult life, my children will be reflecting these years back to me in a mirror of their words and actions. They will have many complaints and corrections.
I know this will be painful, but I say: BRING IT.
I am flawed little angels, in everything I do, in the moment, I believe it is the right choice, but all I look back upon now are 4 years of awful mistakes.
I will cry with you one day over the mistakes I have made and the burden they added to your life.
I promise.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Life Minus The Meds.
The last few weeks of weaning off of my happy pills have gone amazingly well. I think three factors play into this.
1) About 6 months ago we started suspecting that I might be lactose intolerant. Did you know that the most common symptom of a food allergy is anxiety? Because of this I cut my dairy intake all the way down for several months, and then was able to find my limit of eating dairy no more than twice a week, and while still being able to feel normal. I've been eating it about once a week in small amounts and doing fine while weaning from my meds. I'm hoping this will continue.
2) There is an end in sight. I know that in less than 10 weeks if I need to I can just go right back on them. That feels amazing. I am so thankful that God put the idea in some dudes head to make these meds, and so thankful that he convicted us that using them was the right thing for us. Sure, I don't like the thought of being on them forever not knowing the risks of that, but one thing I do know for sure: a lifetime of anxiety and stress would most surely shorten my life even more than needing to be medicated forever. Plus, I am on the smallest dose possible, so that feels good too.
3) The Lord's had it out for me. I feel like over the last few years he's really been making me examine my thinking behind EVERYTHING, and this has been great in building my trust in him and my faith in who he is.
I have been having a few more worrisome thoughts than normal, usually fear stuff surrounding the health of my kids (like why Kadence has so many bruises on her legs, and if Auryn's cold sore is going to cause some sort of life threatening infection......irrational you see), but other than that its been great. I just need to not let myself freak about about anything until I am medicated again, and not able to freak out about anything. LOL! Oh goodness. Basically I know my thinking right now is not always filled with TRUTH, so I just need to postpone everything until the meds allow the Lord to reign in my mind again. I do believe that God is all powerful, but I also know that when your brain is screwed like mine, no matter how much TRUTH you try to shove in there, its not enough. It would be like laying on the floor hemorrhaging asking the Lord to stop the bleeding. Yes he could do it totally on his own, but most likely its gonna take an ambulance, a doctor, a blood transfusion, and a few stitches.
He uses lots of stuff to heal us and prolong our lives and sanity in this very very broken world we live in. Mine just happens to be a tiny green pill that the Lord has used to save my life.
Thank. You. Jesus.
1) About 6 months ago we started suspecting that I might be lactose intolerant. Did you know that the most common symptom of a food allergy is anxiety? Because of this I cut my dairy intake all the way down for several months, and then was able to find my limit of eating dairy no more than twice a week, and while still being able to feel normal. I've been eating it about once a week in small amounts and doing fine while weaning from my meds. I'm hoping this will continue.
2) There is an end in sight. I know that in less than 10 weeks if I need to I can just go right back on them. That feels amazing. I am so thankful that God put the idea in some dudes head to make these meds, and so thankful that he convicted us that using them was the right thing for us. Sure, I don't like the thought of being on them forever not knowing the risks of that, but one thing I do know for sure: a lifetime of anxiety and stress would most surely shorten my life even more than needing to be medicated forever. Plus, I am on the smallest dose possible, so that feels good too.
3) The Lord's had it out for me. I feel like over the last few years he's really been making me examine my thinking behind EVERYTHING, and this has been great in building my trust in him and my faith in who he is.
I have been having a few more worrisome thoughts than normal, usually fear stuff surrounding the health of my kids (like why Kadence has so many bruises on her legs, and if Auryn's cold sore is going to cause some sort of life threatening infection......irrational you see), but other than that its been great. I just need to not let myself freak about about anything until I am medicated again, and not able to freak out about anything. LOL! Oh goodness. Basically I know my thinking right now is not always filled with TRUTH, so I just need to postpone everything until the meds allow the Lord to reign in my mind again. I do believe that God is all powerful, but I also know that when your brain is screwed like mine, no matter how much TRUTH you try to shove in there, its not enough. It would be like laying on the floor hemorrhaging asking the Lord to stop the bleeding. Yes he could do it totally on his own, but most likely its gonna take an ambulance, a doctor, a blood transfusion, and a few stitches.
He uses lots of stuff to heal us and prolong our lives and sanity in this very very broken world we live in. Mine just happens to be a tiny green pill that the Lord has used to save my life.
Thank. You. Jesus.
Social Anxiety: Double Dose.
I think one hardest parts about raising my first born is that she and I are SO similar. Inside and out. No, we are not the same. The Lord gave us our own uniqueness, and our own souls, but sometimes the similarities between us outweigh the difference by far. Some of them I love seeing in her, but some of them I hate.
Today I'm processing through the one I hate the MOST.
My sweet little girl, on the outside from the neck up, looks like my twin. Although I know I'm flawed for sure, her and I get a ton of joy in looking in the mirror together at our faces that 'match'.
Unfortunately: my sweet little girl, on the inside from the neck up, is built like me too. I can't be for sure, because she is only 3 (4 in only two weeks though!!!!), but I think her brain is broken like mine. My burden has become her burden, and it devastates me to my core.
ANXIETY.
Ugh.
As she has grown older, I have been able to recall alot more memories from my childhood as she is experiencing things for the first time, and I am recalling what some of those times were like for me. Alot more lately, those memories have made me just plain miserable.
Although I do have fun memories with friends during my youth, honestly: most of them are plagued with memories of severe anxiety. I hated organized sports, I hated organized games (like duck duck goose), I hated having happy birthday sung to me, I hated playing in groups, I hated being in a group where I didn't have at least 1 very close friend giving me undivided attention, I hated breaking into groups....on and on. My mom always tells me that I was so shy in preschool that I would not talk to anyone, and on the playground I would stand on the edge by myself. Although I don't remember many of these early times, when I think back to them I feel anxious all over again. Social anxiety, my nemesis.
I unfortunately have had a lifelong struggle with performance anxiety too. Double trouble. I have an overwhelming amount of memories of gagging. Yep, you read that right, gagging. For some reason my bodies response to anxiety has been nauseousness, which results in me gagging. Weird I know. I have so many memories of gagging before swim meets, dance recitals, piano recitals, math contests....on and on. My middle school memories are filled with instances of having the lunch bell ring and gagging my way to my locker to get my lunch, and gagging my way to the lunch room, just so stressed over where I was going to sit, who would be my friend. And I tell you this next part, not to brag, but to only illustrate my point further, but: I was extremely popular from 5th grade to 11th grade, so I should not have been experiencing anxiety like this. I was plugged in with the popular crowd since 2nd grade, I was never an outsider during those years. I should have been confident. But I was terrified. I loved having friends, I loved having fun, I loved being a part of things, I just also had a fear too. A fear of rejection.
Isn't that really what social and performance anxiety are based around. A fear of rejection, a fear of failure.
Now, at the ripe old age of 29, when I am at birthday parties with my 3 year old and they start playing party games, I get anxious, I get nauseous, all over again. When we arrive to a party late, or the playground or the pool where a crowd has formed, my anxiety level spikes. Some of these, most of these, are STILL situations I myself find hard to maneuver, but I think the real cause is fear of rejection for my precious daughter. I could care less for me if people like her, but I see in her a high need for friendships, and it crushes me SO MUCH to know that she herself will be rejected at times. I want to protect her, I want to set up every situation to insure that she succeeds, but I cannot. But it is so so painful for me to watch.
Just the other day we got invited to a birthday party. For about a week ahead of time she would look at the invitation hanging on our fridge and talk to us excitedly about going to her friends party. She was so excited for him that it was his birthday, so excited that she was invited, so excited to go to a party. We were at the store a few days before the party and all on her own she asked if we could get this little buddy of hers a card and a present. She loved browsing the aisles and picking out what she deemed a worthy card and present, all the while talking about how fun it would be to go to this party. The morning of she woke up so giddy that it was finally the day she could go celebrate with her friends. She helped me wrap the gift, she told me what to write on the card, she was beaming. Then it was time to leave. Her daddy was off that morning, so we all got to go as a family. The party was being held at the condo just two up from ours, literally a 1 minute walk. She rushed to get her shoes on, grabbed the present, and headed towards the door. But as she exited the door I saw her entire demeanor change. I could tell it had finally hit her, what she was about to do. Her face got serious, her smile disappeared, she started slumping her shoulders, and walking really slowly. When we arrived and opened the door she stood hesitantly outside for a moment as she peered in to her friends playing with balloons. I could tell she was getting sad. She was nervous to go in, nervous she wouldn't know anyone, scared no one would talk to her, scared she wouldn't fit it. The whole party she stuck close to daddy and I. She refused to play the games, had a really hard time getting in line for the birthday treat, and didn't like the birthday song as usual (ok, is this genetic? both my sister and I HATED it as kids, and now both of my kids do too....). She was SO excited to see this little boy open the present she gave to him, but nervous that he wouldn't like it. She had a hard time telling him 'your welcome' when he so politely thanked her. When she had all she could take, she started wandering home. My heart sank. I had SO wanted her to feel successful, and I could tell she had not. I praised her for going, and being a good friend, and encouraged her that her buddy was glad she had come. It wasn't until hours later she looked at me and said "Mommy, I had alot of fun at _______'s birthday party! My favorite part was the balloons!". I was shocked once again. She had enjoyed herself. It had not gone as she hoped, but she had found fun in the midst of it.
Today it happened again. She heard kids playing outside, ran up to me, and said "I hear friends outside, can I please go play with them?!?!?". I told her yes, but then as soon as the older neighborhood girl sweetly came to play with her, she froze. She looks up to her so much, and doesn't want to do something wrong, doesn't want to be rejected, so she freezes.
I think the tricky part with social anxiety too, is the fear of doing something wrong. You feel like the entire world understands how to socialize, and you have missed that part of the lesson. Like me, I still suck at group conversations and am constantly interrupting people. I seriously don't understand how they work. Weird I know, I'm 29. You fear doing something wrong, it makes you feel really anxious, and really stressed, and then you do something awkward, and your fears come true.
She does this too. She SO badly wants to fit in, and SO badly wants to be like, and is SO scared that she won't fit in and won't be like that she freezes, the anxiety builds, and she acts awkward.
I am scared. I know we are just around the corner from one of her buddies calling her weird. I am SO dreading that day. She is a first born, being raised by a mother who struggles with social anxiety, and a father who finds humor in pretending to be socially awkward. She is weird too. Poor girl.
Social anxiety. There was once song played by this A-mazing band, and the line to it said: What you fear the most, will surely be the death of you. That's social anxiety in a nutshell. You fear failure and rejection the most, it paralyzes you, the stress builds, you do something awkward, you are rejected.
Kids are noticing that my princess is not exactly like them. Who wants to play with a kid who stands on the sidelines, won't participate in group stuff, and won't always join in conversation? I just pray someone does, she needs a buddy. I had one buddy. That changed everything. Someone to make you feel normal, make you feel like you belong, someone to be the bridge that connects you to the group as a whole.
Why is she this way? Well, I think alot is genetic. My side of the family has a long line of mental illness. Some mutant gene somewhere got mixed in. I also think its because she is a firstborn and has a need to do things right, and doesn't have an older sibling to look up to as a social example.
And also, its my fault. I was so controlling in her younger years, and even sometimes now, that I was always correcting her, always feeding her lines, basically teaching her there was a right way and a wrong way to socialize. Although, to my knowledge, I've never punished her for this, the tape I've set up to play in her head isn't a great one. Its full of correction, full of direction, and lacking in encouragement.
I'm trying with all my might to learn how to parent a child who deals with this beast, but its pretty hard when the same beast has lived in your head for as long as you can remember.
I'm just praying the Lord does a miracle. I'm praying he gives her buddies that truly love her. I'm praying he gives her confidence in the creation he made her to be. I'm praying he gives me tools and skills to help her on this journey.
Social health, relationships, is really the food our souls survive on. When you struggle in this area, life can feel lonely, confusing, and depressing.
Lord, please save my angel from this. I will gladly take it all if she can somehow be spared. Please Lord, give me direction. Please correct the tape that plays in her head. Please Lord, you are all powerful, fix her brain, break mine more if you need to, but please fix hers. I can't bear the thought of her living like I have.
And even more Lord, please give her companionship in you. Please steal her heart and make it yours. Please help her to hear these words and practice them:
"You are never really by yourself. God is always there. If you feel alone, just talk to him. It would make him so happy. And it would make your heart happy too.'
Today I'm processing through the one I hate the MOST.
My sweet little girl, on the outside from the neck up, looks like my twin. Although I know I'm flawed for sure, her and I get a ton of joy in looking in the mirror together at our faces that 'match'.
Unfortunately: my sweet little girl, on the inside from the neck up, is built like me too. I can't be for sure, because she is only 3 (4 in only two weeks though!!!!), but I think her brain is broken like mine. My burden has become her burden, and it devastates me to my core.
ANXIETY.
Ugh.
As she has grown older, I have been able to recall alot more memories from my childhood as she is experiencing things for the first time, and I am recalling what some of those times were like for me. Alot more lately, those memories have made me just plain miserable.
Although I do have fun memories with friends during my youth, honestly: most of them are plagued with memories of severe anxiety. I hated organized sports, I hated organized games (like duck duck goose), I hated having happy birthday sung to me, I hated playing in groups, I hated being in a group where I didn't have at least 1 very close friend giving me undivided attention, I hated breaking into groups....on and on. My mom always tells me that I was so shy in preschool that I would not talk to anyone, and on the playground I would stand on the edge by myself. Although I don't remember many of these early times, when I think back to them I feel anxious all over again. Social anxiety, my nemesis.
I unfortunately have had a lifelong struggle with performance anxiety too. Double trouble. I have an overwhelming amount of memories of gagging. Yep, you read that right, gagging. For some reason my bodies response to anxiety has been nauseousness, which results in me gagging. Weird I know. I have so many memories of gagging before swim meets, dance recitals, piano recitals, math contests....on and on. My middle school memories are filled with instances of having the lunch bell ring and gagging my way to my locker to get my lunch, and gagging my way to the lunch room, just so stressed over where I was going to sit, who would be my friend. And I tell you this next part, not to brag, but to only illustrate my point further, but: I was extremely popular from 5th grade to 11th grade, so I should not have been experiencing anxiety like this. I was plugged in with the popular crowd since 2nd grade, I was never an outsider during those years. I should have been confident. But I was terrified. I loved having friends, I loved having fun, I loved being a part of things, I just also had a fear too. A fear of rejection.
Isn't that really what social and performance anxiety are based around. A fear of rejection, a fear of failure.
Now, at the ripe old age of 29, when I am at birthday parties with my 3 year old and they start playing party games, I get anxious, I get nauseous, all over again. When we arrive to a party late, or the playground or the pool where a crowd has formed, my anxiety level spikes. Some of these, most of these, are STILL situations I myself find hard to maneuver, but I think the real cause is fear of rejection for my precious daughter. I could care less for me if people like her, but I see in her a high need for friendships, and it crushes me SO MUCH to know that she herself will be rejected at times. I want to protect her, I want to set up every situation to insure that she succeeds, but I cannot. But it is so so painful for me to watch.
Just the other day we got invited to a birthday party. For about a week ahead of time she would look at the invitation hanging on our fridge and talk to us excitedly about going to her friends party. She was so excited for him that it was his birthday, so excited that she was invited, so excited to go to a party. We were at the store a few days before the party and all on her own she asked if we could get this little buddy of hers a card and a present. She loved browsing the aisles and picking out what she deemed a worthy card and present, all the while talking about how fun it would be to go to this party. The morning of she woke up so giddy that it was finally the day she could go celebrate with her friends. She helped me wrap the gift, she told me what to write on the card, she was beaming. Then it was time to leave. Her daddy was off that morning, so we all got to go as a family. The party was being held at the condo just two up from ours, literally a 1 minute walk. She rushed to get her shoes on, grabbed the present, and headed towards the door. But as she exited the door I saw her entire demeanor change. I could tell it had finally hit her, what she was about to do. Her face got serious, her smile disappeared, she started slumping her shoulders, and walking really slowly. When we arrived and opened the door she stood hesitantly outside for a moment as she peered in to her friends playing with balloons. I could tell she was getting sad. She was nervous to go in, nervous she wouldn't know anyone, scared no one would talk to her, scared she wouldn't fit it. The whole party she stuck close to daddy and I. She refused to play the games, had a really hard time getting in line for the birthday treat, and didn't like the birthday song as usual (ok, is this genetic? both my sister and I HATED it as kids, and now both of my kids do too....). She was SO excited to see this little boy open the present she gave to him, but nervous that he wouldn't like it. She had a hard time telling him 'your welcome' when he so politely thanked her. When she had all she could take, she started wandering home. My heart sank. I had SO wanted her to feel successful, and I could tell she had not. I praised her for going, and being a good friend, and encouraged her that her buddy was glad she had come. It wasn't until hours later she looked at me and said "Mommy, I had alot of fun at _______'s birthday party! My favorite part was the balloons!". I was shocked once again. She had enjoyed herself. It had not gone as she hoped, but she had found fun in the midst of it.
Today it happened again. She heard kids playing outside, ran up to me, and said "I hear friends outside, can I please go play with them?!?!?". I told her yes, but then as soon as the older neighborhood girl sweetly came to play with her, she froze. She looks up to her so much, and doesn't want to do something wrong, doesn't want to be rejected, so she freezes.
I think the tricky part with social anxiety too, is the fear of doing something wrong. You feel like the entire world understands how to socialize, and you have missed that part of the lesson. Like me, I still suck at group conversations and am constantly interrupting people. I seriously don't understand how they work. Weird I know, I'm 29. You fear doing something wrong, it makes you feel really anxious, and really stressed, and then you do something awkward, and your fears come true.
She does this too. She SO badly wants to fit in, and SO badly wants to be like, and is SO scared that she won't fit in and won't be like that she freezes, the anxiety builds, and she acts awkward.
I am scared. I know we are just around the corner from one of her buddies calling her weird. I am SO dreading that day. She is a first born, being raised by a mother who struggles with social anxiety, and a father who finds humor in pretending to be socially awkward. She is weird too. Poor girl.
Social anxiety. There was once song played by this A-mazing band, and the line to it said: What you fear the most, will surely be the death of you. That's social anxiety in a nutshell. You fear failure and rejection the most, it paralyzes you, the stress builds, you do something awkward, you are rejected.
Kids are noticing that my princess is not exactly like them. Who wants to play with a kid who stands on the sidelines, won't participate in group stuff, and won't always join in conversation? I just pray someone does, she needs a buddy. I had one buddy. That changed everything. Someone to make you feel normal, make you feel like you belong, someone to be the bridge that connects you to the group as a whole.
Why is she this way? Well, I think alot is genetic. My side of the family has a long line of mental illness. Some mutant gene somewhere got mixed in. I also think its because she is a firstborn and has a need to do things right, and doesn't have an older sibling to look up to as a social example.
And also, its my fault. I was so controlling in her younger years, and even sometimes now, that I was always correcting her, always feeding her lines, basically teaching her there was a right way and a wrong way to socialize. Although, to my knowledge, I've never punished her for this, the tape I've set up to play in her head isn't a great one. Its full of correction, full of direction, and lacking in encouragement.
I'm trying with all my might to learn how to parent a child who deals with this beast, but its pretty hard when the same beast has lived in your head for as long as you can remember.
I'm just praying the Lord does a miracle. I'm praying he gives her buddies that truly love her. I'm praying he gives her confidence in the creation he made her to be. I'm praying he gives me tools and skills to help her on this journey.
Social health, relationships, is really the food our souls survive on. When you struggle in this area, life can feel lonely, confusing, and depressing.
Lord, please save my angel from this. I will gladly take it all if she can somehow be spared. Please Lord, give me direction. Please correct the tape that plays in her head. Please Lord, you are all powerful, fix her brain, break mine more if you need to, but please fix hers. I can't bear the thought of her living like I have.
And even more Lord, please give her companionship in you. Please steal her heart and make it yours. Please help her to hear these words and practice them:
"You are never really by yourself. God is always there. If you feel alone, just talk to him. It would make him so happy. And it would make your heart happy too.'
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