Piper Lynn

Before you had Postpartum Depression, your days were structured much differently. Feeling validated in your self worth and connecting with your sense of identity involved a lot of moving pieces that you were the leader of. Well balanced meals would have been planned, doctors appointments made, programs created at work, friendships confirmed and house cleaned. All in one day. To have a sense of satisfaction, A LOT would have to happen. But now you are experiencing  Postpartum Depression, everything is deemed impossible by the chemicals in your brain that you have no control over. You don't get to be validated by a long day in the office or managing household duties. Now that you are experiencing PPD you have only brief moments to achieve any sense of worth and they come in the form of sitting up and moving your body, or taking a shower, or having a half-lucid conversation with a close family member.  You are beaten down by depression and you are slowly being robbed of confidence and

Today was a bad day, one that made me question my progress and mental stamina. I felt low, anxious, hateful towards myself and regreted every decision I made parenting up to this point. Grief doesn't slowly get better, it gets better and then worse and then kind of better and then new feelings emerge. This happens day to day, hour to hour, sometimes minute to minute. That is the complicated nature of grief you don't know about until you are experiencing it. I started to worry again that the scary side of post pardum depression was making its way back to the forefront? I wondered if it was another wave of grief unfamiliar to me? Then while walking our dog, I happened to look up at the stars in the dark night, and it became clear, it was actually much more simple, I simply missed her. For a moment I allowed myself to believe that I deserved that feeling, the deep missing of what could have been. This feeling, by far, has emerged to be the single most impossible one to aknowledge

I remember hearing stories of friends who had miscarriages. That term thrown around here and there in close circles, usually a passing conversation. Rarely the story spoken by the person who actually experienced it. When someone hinted at that term, I felt sad for them for a moment and always said "healthy babies are a miracle" and then moved on. That was as much as I knew how to say and embarrassingly to admit now, I couldn't understand how someone could have such strong, long lasting feelings surrounding their experience of a miscarriage. I didn't say baby, because to me it was a miscarriage. I think in those moments my heart and soul couldn't bare to consider that type of hurt, honestly it was too hard for me to know how to feel or what to say. I had three healthy boys with no issues getting pregnant, I could not empathize. I know I said things that were probably hurtful not knowing so. I am sure I complained about parenting challenges amidst women who so wante

As we move into 2021, it seems to be common thought that 2020 was awful, and must be forgotten. 2020 created experiences and uprooted uncomfortable feelings for our entire world. Some people were filled with anticipatory grief and fear, while others were living in the thick of awful traumas and sadness. Some people ignored the realities of our world, while others chose to stand strong and tall, and speak out. For me, 2020 was a shit show mixed with confusion, fear and appreciation. The most impactful experience for me was our daughter dying due to Trisomy 13. I felt all sorts of things, each changing everyday. I experienced depression, worry, fear, grief, sadness, desire, hope, love...  But as we each enter 2021 searching for "better", let us not assume those of us who experienced death and loss want to forget that part of our story and merely move on. As mothers and fathers who had hoped to ring in the new year with sleepless nights, tiny bows and coos from our babies, we en