Shame the Shamers

I have something to say this morning outside of my typical mumblings.

Some may not like it, some might, but I feel like it needs to be said.

In recent weeks I’ve seen my words all over the internet which has been a huge blessing.

But with a larger reach comes a larger audience and not everyone is as kind as the people on this page.

I’m all about telling it like it is in my day-to-day.

Some people can relate, some can’t.

Which is normal because motherhood is different for everyone.

Some of us have joyous pregnancies, for others, it can be messy, scary, or even heartwrenching.

Labour and delivery is full of the unexpected with the end result always being some type of recovery for mom.

Then comes motherhood and our beautiful baby.

Some of us have the baby that latches, sleeps, coos, and smiles.

Some of us navigate colic, and nursing struggles, and have appointments lined up every two days.

Some of us have it “easy” and have postpartum depression.

Some of us have it “hard” and have postpartum depression.

My point is it doesn’t matter how it happens or why it happens or how hard it is or how easy it is we still need to feel loved and supported.

Last night I scrolled through the comments on a post and my heart sank.

“This woman clearly needs help.”

“She’s obviously battling PPD. I feel so sorry for her. Someone help her.”

“Ladies, her kids might be really challenging.”

“She’s so selfish to think she should come first.”

And on and on and on…

The thing that riles me up the most – a lot of these women are mothers and sadly, the mom war lives.

I shake these comments off. I know who I am. But I worry about the other mothers reading these comments.

Here’s the thing – not everyone is going to be kind and supportive and understanding in this big old world of ours but never EVER let that shame you.

Never EVER let that stop you from sharing your feelings and finding the friend who gets it.

Never EVER let that stop you from asking for help.

Do you know how many “me toos” I’ve heard since starting this page?

Do you know how many private messages I get a week saying “that’s how I feel but I’m too ashamed to say it.”

Never EVER feel shame.

Motherhood is full of ups and downs, highs and lows and everything in between.

On the good days, we forget the bad.

On the bad days, we forget the good.

Let’s not forget there are people who understand what you’re feeling, whatever your case may be. You just need to find them. And the only way you can find them is by sharing and by speaking up.

And for what it’s worth – that mother who appears to have postpartum isn’t crazy. She’s one of the one million women who walk this path.

She needs the world to see that she’s human. She loves her babies and her life, her family and herself. She loves to laugh, she loves to cook, and she loves a good Hallmark movie, but sometimes the days are dark – and there’s nothing crazy about that. If anything, that deserves a “me too.”

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The Problem with Mental Health Care: How Our System is Failing Mothers (and Everyone Else for that Matter)

As many of you know, I’m an open book. I’ll openly talk about my uterus, breastfeeding and  discuss the mistakes I’ve made over the course of my life. It’s why I started this blog. To share as a way to help myself heal, remind myself to laugh, and to hopefully inspire others do the same along the way. While I usually don’t leave anything off limits, I’ve never found the courage to openly discuss…the real me.

Every once and awhile I feel inspired to disclose my secret when I read a story by one of the many people who live, feel and experience life the way I do, yet I can never put my thoughts into words quite as eloquently. Because let’s be honest, anxiety and mental illness is hardly ever eloquent. Whether this comes out as beautifully written as a Shakespeare play or as confusing as a grade one journal entry, it’s time to create something with these words.

While I’m sure  through initiatives like Bell Let’s Talk Day and campaigns from the Canadian Mental Health Association you’ve become aware that mental health patients have few resources in our country, you may not be aware that our system is completely failing them.  Each and every day people seek help and fall tragically through the cracks. While you read this, here are some important stats to keep in mind:

  • 1.2 million Canadian children live with mental illness
  • In any given year, 1 in 5 adults in Canada will personally experience a mental health problem or illness, but only 1 in 3 will receive treatment
  • 1 in 13 women report experiencing depression during the postpartum period

Mental health has long been recognized as a fundamental aspect of one’s health, however under our current health regime the majority of mental health services do not meet the eligibility requirement of “medically necessary.” Unless received in a hospital, psychological services must be paid for out-of-pocket or covered by private third-party insurance. This means that weekly visits to psychiatrics or counsellors come at one’s own expense. With the burden of paying for one’s mental health left to the individual, it is not surprising that so many Canadians put mental health concerns on the backburner.

We can’t do this anymore. We need to take a stand. 

So, here I am taking my stand and calling bullshit on the whole system.

Three weeks ago I was faced with a daze and emptiness I haven’t experienced in a very long time. Be it the collective emotions that came with my new role as a working mom, prolonged sleep deprivation and pregnancy hormones or hell, just the stress of living and thriving in our social media dominant, mess of a world, something caused me to die a little inside.

In a moment of desperation, I put my life on pause – an opportunity moms rarely have. I called in sick to work, brought my son to daycare and went home for a date with Netflix, a cup of coffee and my couch. Instead, when I walked in my house I wrapped myself in a blanket and I cried. I cried and cried, then sobbed, and then I hit rock bottom.

You should know, this is not a good time for me to lose it. I have a loving and supportive husband, a beautiful and healthy son, a silly and quirky dog (yes, I love you too, Louie) and a little bean inside my belly – all of them need me. Now is not the time for my mind, body and soul to scream “I’ve had enough.” But you can’t argue with truth.

As much as I want to wallow in self pity, life doesn’t pause and let you heal. Bills need to be paid and babies need to be snuggled. In an attempt to nip this overwhelming sense of… well….feeling overwhelmed, I did something I never do and asked for help.

I Googled “support for moms in Halton Region”, and results flooded my screen. There were mommy support groups, a crisis hotline, even a warm line at a local hospital that provides 24 hour support to moms in the first year of their child’s life. All incredible resources, right? I thought so too. Then I started dialing.

Between tears, I dialed numbers, trying to find a program to help me cope with all the unorganized thoughts and emotions flying through my mind.

I’ll save you my feedback on the 7 publicly funded organizations I reached out to – in short, they have a lot of work to do.

While initially it seemed like there was a world of help and support for an overwhelmed, new-ish mom like me, there really isn’t. At some point along the way, each and every resource let me down. They listened to me through tears, told me self-care was critical, and failed to provide any resources they promised to.

And here’s the sad part, I’m not alone. People used to say that it takes a village to raise a child. Today, some of us are lucky to have support from our extended family but this village you hear of costs approximately $2000+ a month in daycare costs, maids, nannys, therapy, takeout and bottles of wine (when mommy has just had enough).

Our society today provides moms with little to no support. We literally grow and birth a baby, get a high five and are sent on our way. No one prepares us for the worry (is my baby eating enough? are they happy? is their poop supposed to be that colour? why are they crying? why aren’t they crying? what is that spot on their leg? THEY HAVE THE MEASLES!). No one prepares us for the weeks, months, sometimes years of being up around the clock. No one prepares us for breastfeeding failure, drifting from our friends and partner, or coping with zero – and I mean ZERO time for ourselves. No one prepares us for the work + life + baby balance.  No one prepares us. We’re expected to shower, smile, eat, stay fit, work, clean, maintain romance, maintain friendships, maintain our eyebrows, raise a tiny army, run an envy worthy Instagram page AND stay sane through it all? Nope. Not happening. Maybe I’m doing something totally wrong. Maybe I expect too much of myself – but this whole system isn’t working for me.

There needs to be more resources.

There needs to be more support.

And we can’t continue to treat mental illness like a separate entity to our health.  It’s not.

Our mind is our being, it’s apart of who we are and it’s a big part of how we love, laugh, function and remain healthy day to day. Our country can’t continue to turn a blind eye to the millions of children, adults and mothers who silently struggle every day, trying their very best not to lose it.

With all that being said, here’s my call to action: if you feel the way I feel, I encourage you to speak about it. More importantly, I encourage you to tell all levels of government about it. Demand they make changes to our system and stop failing our people. In the meantime, I encourage you to be kind to others, to kind to yourself and to bring back the village.