Finding healthy middle ground as a working mom. Within a year. (A rant)

It’s a lot harder than I could have ever imagined.

I get angry thinking about having to go back to work 6-8 weeks after having a baby (8 weeks if you have a MAJOR surgery like a C-Section). 6 to 8 weeks to bond with my new child. 6-8 weeks to establish a breast feeding routine. 6-8 weeks to introduce everyone in my life to my baby. But not too close because GERMS! (Do we even want to bring up postpartum depression or anxiety? PPA almost killed me) 6-8 weeks to heal from the trauma my body endured during child birth, 6-8 weeks for painful, chapped nipples to heal. 6-8 weeks to jump back into the workforce like nothing happened. But something monumental happened.

I feel guilty when I have to take a PDO day when my child is sick and my work team has to carry my load.

I feel guilty when I go pump 2-3X a day to maintain my supply. It interferes with my workflow and rhythm, or I have too much I need to get done today.. So I drop down to 1-2X a day and watch my supply bottom out more times than not.

I feel guilty for PTO, parent teacher conferences, having to stop by the daycare every 4 hours to pump my baby full of Tylenol so that fever doesn’t breach 100°F and inevitably causes him to be sent home. If we get sent home, how in the world will I ever catch up?

I feel guilty that my quality standards at work have to be modified to fit this new life. I had to learn a whole new job a few months after I came back from leave. I want to do well, but I am not the person I was when I left. And this job includes over time and on call that my last job did not. Do you understand the fear of being on a call at 8 pm that requires interaction and total engagement when that is bed time and you are the boob??

I couldn’t take the medications I need to concentrate at work, my work quality was at an all time low… was I going to lose my job because I have to choose between breastfeeding and taking medication for my ADHD, anxiety, or depression?

I have to find a middle ground, but I can’t take choosing my job over my child.

Life would have been so different if America had followed Canada, Norway, Denmark, honestly the list goes on and on for these other countries who seem to actually accept and care for their mothers and children.

I want to be a badass employee. I want to make our company’s name shine and shimmer with greatness.

I want to be a badass mom who isn’t empty at the end of every day from stretching too thin.

I want to be mentally healthy and have time to see a therapist!!!!! But at this point in my life, I’m doing good to get in and see a dentist.

I want to have and interact in my friendships outside of the workplace. But I spend most of my time in the 4 walls of my cubicle. When I’m out, I have 2.5 hours after 5:30 pm to pick up from daycare, get home (30 min drive), dinner??, bath, bedtime, get bottles ready for tomorrow, maybe sneak in a kiss to my husband.

The guilt I feel about being a bad wife and a bad friend… those have been getting to me lately.

Then I remember I haven’t had a shower in 3 days. The smell is me. (So embarrassing!)

Weekends are nice, but I want to do more with them, but also less because I am so tired and need down time.

Shit, the dogs! The cats! They need to see the vet. I need to refill their preventatives. Am I spending enough time with them? Or are they just hostages here?

How do we navigate this terrain??

I know this is not a new territory at all, and mothers have been kicking ass and taking names long before me.

Maybe it’s just me that can’t figure it out.

Maybe I’m in the wrong profession, but I can’t afford to quit my job and go back to school. And I certainly don’t have the time in between work and mommyhood.

My days are flashing before my eyes. Time has never moved so fast in my entire life. I don’t want to miss these days. I don’t want to miss the smallness of my child, he is already growing up so quickly.

Maybe it will get better in time.

Maybe I will get better in time.

Ps… I want to thank my husband who is one of my biggest supporters. I don’t want to ever diminish or minimize the work and effort he puts into supporting me and helping me. I would not have made it to today without him busting his ass. Thank you X 1,000,000.

Pps… thank you to all of the moms before me, and around me, for busting your ass creating something great when nobody could see. It’s a thankless job and you are a saint.

It’s time for your medicine

It’s morning. Take your pills.

Go to work and give it your all. We mean your all as in the all we expect to work tried and true. The all we need to make the numbers work.

It’s evening. Take your pills.

It’s always time for your medicine.

What happens when you don’t take your medicine? Well your body is going to scream either way- it wasn’t made to rely on little white pills… Your mind though, your mind will deceive you.

Does it really deceive me? Well perception is reality. And right now I believe that I am failing.

I’m not failing, because I have the right medication.

I’m failing. I’m not failing. We are doomed. There is hope.

When things get really bad, I always forget that it’s time for my medicine

“The doctors give the pills but the pills don’t have the will to take the pain outta the brain, they just make the brain insane.”

I have a love hate relationship with my need for medication.

I hate that I need it. But I love myself for accepting that I need it.

It’s ok to not be ok. And it’s ok to be ok.

Why don’t we talk about these things as they come? Why do we have such high standards for ourselves? We give so much more grace to those around us!

We aren’t even friends to ourselves. Because if I was my friend, I’d tell myself to stop dicking around and take my damn medicine like I know I need to. I’d say Chelsee, you are having a panic attack, and that’s ok. But take this medicine to dampen it. You’ll be able to breathe. And I’d trust me and listen to me.

It’s ok to need something, and it’s ok that it takes a while to find the right concoction. But take care of yourself. And listen to the still, quiet voice within you that does not scream profanities.. it feeds you words of strength, healing, and grace.

Tell those bad thoughts to go straight back to hell from which they came.

And to my readers- thank you for sticking through the up and downs. And thank you for the words of positivity that is often the lighthouse in my stormy sea. Much love to you all. You are not alone.

Insert Smile Here

What am I supposed to say when I’m out of words?

My thoughts turn into ash in my mouth by the burn of uncertainty and fear.
I’m all out of ideas and strength.

I don’t know what to do or where to go.

I hate this uncomfortable feeling crawling on my skin. I hate not knowing what my plan is.

I don’t know what I want out of this life. Isn’t that ironic? I am given so many opportunities and all I can do is go blank.

I can write, I can data mine. I can study your brain, I can help you find solutions, and think out of the box.

I can’t tell you with any certainty what I should do, though.

My God, this is so frustrating and I feel so defeated! I always have a plan. And now I just feel lost.

No I have no idea what’s wrong…except for me. I’ll insert a smile anyway and tell you I’m fine.

No, you can’t fix it for me. Lord, I sure wish you could! I would let you!

I’m stretched so thin that I’m translucent.

My candle is burning at both ends and in the middle.

What do I do? Who do I become? Even things as simple as “What do I write next?” … I have all these ideas swirling in my mind, more faint than *options* , but I can’t catch a single one. They fly too quickly and have too much uncertainty with them.

Is a safety net turning into a noose?

Or am I about to ruin everything?

On Feeling Lost

I have been so overwhelmed. This week alone has felt like it’s own month. I have been working so hard, but I don’t feel like I’ve achieved or accomplished anything. I feel like I’m wandering around.

I realize that I’ve reached goals, and now I’m out of important goals. Out of the things I can change. I hate feeling like my fate is in someone else’s hands.

I hate feeling so lost and confused. I hate this dark abyss. I feel like I’m just treading water. Pleading with myself. Don’t give up, you’ll drown! But you get tired trying to stay afloat, trying to not sink.

I’m bloody lost and tired.

Fear of forsaken forevers

Unless you’ve heard that door slam and the emptiness that follows, you’ll never understand. You’ll never understand the fear.

But I promise to love you every day, in every way.

Yes, the terrors of abandonment, forsaken forevers, wake me up at night.

Maybe I’ll always fear.

Maybe that’s not so bad, really.

I’ll always savor you like the rarity you are. The once in a lifetime person you are.

The way your chest rises and falls when you sleep. How your eyes sparkle when you speak. How your eyes crinkle, your dimples show when you laugh. How my soul makes sense and I feel at home in your laughter, amidst the chaos.

The way your calloused hands caress my face, as soft as a whisper.

The way you hold me when my world is falling apart.

Yes, maybe one day I will fail you. Maybe some apocalyptic hellish nightmare of a day that door would slam and only silence will follow suit with the empty.

But maybe, just maybe, I will acknowledge my fears. Instead of drowning me, drowning our love, they will shine light into the darkness of the unknown.

No matter what, I will always thank you, I will always cherish you, I will always choose you. I will always love you. YOU you, the real you. The messy you. The you that was broken, too, when you chose to let me in. The one who shares fears, too.

I will thank you for every normal, boring day. And I will always be thankful for the irrational anger that is greeted with an exasperated eye roll and nothing more.

And I will always thank you for every time you walked me back off a ledge. For every time you brought me back home from far away worlds. Every hypothetical “what if” you talk me through, every heartbreak you hold me through. Every time you tell me I am more than enough. Every time you fight my demons off when I am too tired to do so. Every time you love me, when I do not love myself.

And every time I open my eyes, I will love you. I will choose you.

I promise.

Overflowing, overwhelmed

Weight on shoulders, depress, oppress, suppress

Anxiety in laughter, wrapped around my throat – it won today. It successfully overwhelmed its vessel.

My knees hit the ground like an ultimatum

Lists overwhelming my mind, my ability

Failures singing like the birds in the trees, never silenced

Fear like shackles on my wrists and ankles

Anxiety fogging my mind, overwhelming my senses.

The debris and destruction surrounding me. It is a fact, I’m on the ground.

The smoke rising like protestations

Muscles straining like it’s a physical fight, I stand

One foot in front of the other

Sun peaks through the dust and smoke, I depend on you

For now, I fear, I fail, I fall, and falter. But every fight has a victor and victim.

I never liked the taste of being a victim.

My knees may shake, but I will always get back up.

I have too much depending on me to give up.