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“I’m fine.”

How are you? I'm fine. Chances are when you get that in response to a question, it’s untrue. It’s definitely not true if you ever hear me say it.

Lately, I have been thinking about honesty. It’s such a difficult thing to be sometimes, honest. I care too much about what people think, which is why it’s taken me so long to start writing again.

When you worry about what people think, you censor yourself. In a recent post I wrote some things that were hurtful to people I love deeply. They were wounded by my words. I am not proud of this.

The truth is often subjective. I look at life through the biased lens of my own experience. I meant it when I said that depression is selfish because when I’m depressed I tend to take things so damn personally (as if it’s all about me all the time).

Sometimes honesty hurts.

It’s much easier to blame others for why we are feeling bad. It’s much harder to accept responsibility for over-analysing or taking comments to heart. Last week I found myself in a dark place, pointing fingers at anyone but myself.

As a consequence of what I wrote, I had some difficult conversations with family members. Raw, uncomfortable and vulnerable.

I realised today that I dislike vulnerability. A lot. My mother raised me to be ‘tough’ so I wouldn’t feel as much pain out in the world. As a result, I tend to view vulnerability as a weakness, especially within myself.

I’m grateful those difficult conversations were had.I feel that they are just the beginnings of better, more honest communication. I am working on not pretending to be fine. On letting certain things slide. On creating some healthy distance between other people’s actions and my own heart.

I’d also like to stop being an expert at putting my game-face on. I can walk into a social setting, dripping with homesickness, devastated by an argument or stressed out about work- and the smiles and jokes would flow as if it were a normal day.

I barely made it to a talk called “Adjusting to New Parenting,” with my mother’s group. I was stressed and exhausted with my newborn at the time. I breezed in 10 minutes late, flustered and anxious but must have concealed it well.

The talk was actually about Post Natal Depression. The organisers gave it a different title to attract more people. There were three of us in attendance. Maybe the truth had gotten out. I remember someone making a comment, “Well since we are the ones who actually made it here, I don’t think we are the ones who need help,” fair point.

I remember learning that day, usually, the mothers who seem like they have it together are the ones struggling most.

Am I that person?

I have not told my Mother’s group about this blog or that I’m in counseling. I mean we talk about EVERYTHING in gory detail. Of all people who would be able to understand exactly what I’m going through….they would!

I spoke about this with my therapist today (who has grown on me quite a lot since my initial resistance). She asked me what I felt about not sharing with my Mother’s group. I squirmed in my seat like I squirm every time a caring friend asks me how I’m doing. I can’t tell if I should say I’m fine or give the uncomfortable answer.

As far as Mum’s group goes, my first thought was maybe I’m just sick of talking about depression….but I don’t think that’s the truth. The truth is I don’t talk about it in real life. Perhaps it’s actually the vulnerability I’m shying away from.

Now that I'm getting help, I can start to see it takes more strength and courage to show weakness than it does to put a mask on and pretend “everything’s fine.”

Sara Heidinger Photography

Some common post-natal depression risk factors:

Lack of practical or emotional support
Isolation
History of depression
Difficult relationship with your own mother
Abuse

I have all of these contributing factors, and there are certainly may more.

The relationship I have with my Mother has always been challenging. I find comfort in the idea that children choose their parents before they arrive on this Earth. Well damn, I was ambitious because every day has been a learning experience if that's the case.

My Mom loves as hard as she bites and has a very selective memory about the later. She wanted to toughen me up. I get that. It’s just that she didn't need to use a jackhammer to tenderize the sensitive little piece of meat that was me. Parents, please choose your tools wisely.

No mother-daughter relationship is perfect and I’m lucky enough to have a mother- and she does mean well, and she does love me. Growing up, I witnessed some parenting strategies I’d like to emulate and many I would choose to avoid.

It’s tricky if you disagree with the way you were raised. Trying to parent in the opposite way can lead to an extreme on the other side of the spectrum- which can be just as damaging. Finding a balance between the two styles is the real test.

Balance. A lifelong assignment never finished.

But back to the PND risk factors, based on the conversations I've had with my peers, I have to wonder if we should add ‘independence’ to the list.

Many of my friends are waiting until their 30’s to have children. We are educated, have careers, traveled, and have carefully chosen our partners. We are realistic about motherhood- I did not romanticize it at all. I can’t count how many times I heard, “Having children will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do.” That didn't scare me.

Then it happens, you become a mother. All that independence... gone. Everything I learned about self-sufficiency is thrown out with the dirty diapers. My newborn could care less that I know how to live out of a suitcase or open my own jar of pickles.

Being a parent is not a one person or even a two person job. My husband is an incredible father but unfortunately he works 12 hours per day. I could probably manage the tiny, new human in our house but one can only survive so long when you have to choose between eating, showering and sleeping. Not to mention dealing with the hormonal roller-coaster. This is where ‘the village’ needs to step in and assist new Moms!

And if the village can’t read your mind, you can always ask for help. An exercise in humility itself but trust me, it’s worth it to have an extra pair of hands.

A few months after my daughter’s birth, I found myself at a low point. I felt isolated and drained. I worked up the courage to ask someone for help. This person appeared surprised, told me that they never once asked anyone for help with all of their own children. It stung briefly like the hot tingle after a slap. I thought, "She didn't mean it that way." When the conversation was repeated again, a few days later, I felt resentful, humiliated, but I promised myself I would show nothing but gratitude for the help I felt like I begged for.

We did make it through that rough patch. It’s all a lesson, lessons everywhere.

From infancy and until age two, children experience growth at an alarming rate. As parents we should consider ourselves to be on the same trajectory. Just like our little offspring, exploring the world every day, parenting is the same type of hands-on experience. Learn your kid, learn your parenting.

None of us are perfect but if we keep open minds, and respect our children and ourselves....I think we will all be just fine, eventually.

Picking lemons in our sunny backyard, it's the simple things...

When you become a mother, your identity changes. Instantly. No one seems to mention this enormous fact when you're pregnant.

It's like you finally feel like you know who you are and it all shifts the moment your child takes their first breath. No amount of preparation, reading, or observation can ready you for such an immediate and overwhelming change.

My identity was crowded enough before shoving 'Mother' to the top of the list- daughter, sister, wife, friend, colleague and ex-pat...Now someone's Mom. The most important label, one I didn't even really earn. Not yet.

The dust settled after our trip to the US and once again it was just me and Lavinia.

I worried about being alone with her again after being spoiled by company every day for five weeks. There were a few moments of loneliness on that first day Matt went back to work.

Even though I'm alone again in Australia it feels as if visiting my hometown in the US allowed me to hit the reset button. For the first time I got to be a Mom around my own family- which was strange- but I also got to be me. The light falling on us now reveals how much has changed.

I am starting to heal and these are a few reasons why:

Lavinia is easier than ever before. She sleeps twelve hours at night, she can sit up and is fully weaned (freedom!)
The 24 hour journey across the world and back with a baby has given me the confidence to scoot around Melbourne in my car.
I am continually receiving messages of support from friends and family members. This makes me feel less isolated.
Writing. Writing helps to organise my thoughts.
Therapy has helped me to step outside my head when I’m having anxious thoughts (work in progress).
Homeopathy. Mine does Skype appointments. She is THE BEST.
And what I believe to be the most significant reason.... reconnecting with myself.

In Buffalo, The first time I left Lavinia with my Mom so I could go out to lunch, it felt strange. I was not used to being out without my baby. It took a few glasses of wine but eventually I relaxed and laughed. And as a bonus I got to sit with MY old friends and share stories about the past.

People tell you that in order to be a better Mom, you need to practise self-care within your time constraints. I'm sorry but a bubble bath during Lavinia's nap time was not going to do that for me. I needed Buffalo. I needed my friends, I needed to remember that I used to be someone apart from being someone's Mom.

I began to amalgamate my old identity with my new one. I couldn't do that until I revisited the old one just for a moment. I hope- rather I know- this will make me a better parent.

Lavinia and I had a great first week back in Melbourne. I unpacked, cooked, and we even took that daunting drive to Mornington without any anxious chatter in my formerly unruly mind.

The last few days I have been feeling a bit flat but that's a step up from 'down' or depressed. Now I need to think about what else I can work on going forward. It's comforting knowing that a string of good days are achievable. More sunshine is penetrating our little world.

These first few months of your life have flown by with a flurry of emotions. Time has both stood still and zipped by in a blink.

You have already developed a strong personality and sense of adventure. I never know which side or end of the crib you will wake up on. You are so incredibly beautiful but more importantly you are charming, hilarious, smiley, independent and cheeky. How do you already know exactly what you want and when? It took me almost 30 years to figure that out. Look at you, already my teacher.

I love the sound of your voice. You talk to your toys, pillows and especially to your Dad.

I love your cheeks and have to remind myself to get out of your face so you can breathe sometimes because all I want to do is kiss and nuzzle your sweet face.

The big, big world belongs to you, my love. I’m both fearful and excited for you to explore and put your stamp on it, surely it’s already become a better place because you’re in it.

Thank you for choosing me.