A little PTSD for thought...

Oh my goodness! I can't believe how long it has been since I last posted! I have written and rewritten this post in my head like a billion times and I finally FINALLY took a moment to myself to get my thoughts down. Logan's story is still fresh in my mind and it needs to be told. I mostly want it down so I can feel more at ease. That seems weird but the more I go over it in my mind the more I remember. The more I remember the more I see that this was a huge test on my faith and personal growth. I can look back now and see what I actually survived and what an immense presence the Lord has in my life at the time. It is also a very good reminder that miracles happen and prayers are answered. I love my little guy more than ever now and it is good to be so aware of how much I am blessed by having Logan around.

So I was speaking to my doctor the other day and I mentioned how exhausted I was. Not just physically but emotionally as well. I understand the physical part of it. A baby is a lot of work and while I love every minute of it (mostly), it does take a lot out of me. I sometimes feel like I am not mother material because I am so incredibly tired. I usually end up having a nap with Logan in the mornings so I can catch up on sleep and not deal with a messy house and dirty laundry that I should be taking care of. What kind of mother sleeps during the day? I use the excuse that I usually don't sleep at night but I have been dealing with that my whole life so it's not a huge deal. The rest of the day I just try to entertain Logan enough to keep him from fussing when I should be doing flash cards and animal noises and practicing ABCs. I feel so inadequate but I push that aside cause someone is hungry or needs a diaper change (not me!)

Anyway as my doctor and I talked and as I thought more about things I realized that part of the problem was how I felt inside too. Not sad or depressed really but just kinda flat. I have really pride myself on how mature and wonderful I have become since high school but moving home I have been a little irritable and short with my family and I haven't really taken care of myself. I mean I sat with Logan for three months in the hospital and then we were grounded to the house for another three months. Let's just say that the baby fat was added onto (and yes there was baby fat even though Logan weighed less than an Oreo cookie) and I have just sort of justified that.  But what really got me thinking was when the doctor said something that kinda shocked me. He told me I had been through a major trauma and that he was surprised I was coping as well as I was. Major trauma? Nah...of course it was a little scary having Logan so early and it was trying being in the hospital for so long but there weren't broken bones or massive head injuries involved. He asked me what I felt the most as Logan spent time in the hospital and out of nowhere I realized that the stress and overwhelming emotions that I had each day could be described as traumatic.
First I never got to hold Logan when he was born. I had been looking forward to that the most and while I brushed that aside due to the circumstances I still mourn about that a little. I really psyched myself up for that moment and it was disappointing when it didn't happen. But at the time it was the least of my worries. The second thing I remembered was that everyday EVERYDAY for two whole months I questioned whether Logan would survive. Grayson had a lot more faith than I did and seemed to know that Logan had a mission here on earth and would pull through but I didn't share those thoughts. Each night as I left the hospital I prepared myself for the fact that I might not see Logan alive again. Even now it brings me to tears so I can only imagine what it did to me then. Most mothers don't prepare to say goodbye for good each night when they kiss their kids and tuck them in. Even some of the other moms in the NICU never had to think about that. But I just added that to my little bag of stored up emotions that I would deal with later and called the nurses 14 times a night and got there early the next morning to sit and stare at my baby. It was what I felt I had to do. I did the bare minimum to take care of myself and made sure I was with Logan the majority of the time to watch his chest move up and down.

So looking back at the whole experience now (I seem to do that way too much...hence the need to write this stuff down) it was a total trauma. And I haven't dealt with it properly. I have been too busy loving my baby and counting my blessings. Why should I take of me when I am responsible for a little miracle? I carry Logan around and go through each day the best I can. But my doctor helped me to realize that I need to empty my emotion bag out. Logan is getting heavy and hauling him plus my boulder filled feelings bag is dragging me down. I need to get feeling better for Logan AND for myself.  It's funny how a trip for a refill of birth control can be so eye opening.

And so I made a promise to myself. Continue telling Logan's story. Get it all out...every feeling and thought and emotion. And remember what a joy motherhood is. I also need to take time for me. I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Logan has survived living with me for all these months now that I must be doing a few things right.

So here's to more blog posts and bubble baths. More kisses and confessions. More loving and letting go. I can do it!