Postpartum Begins

The following is Part Two of Grace Broke Mom, you can read Part One here

by Christy Dailey, Guest Writer

Baby Grace was born just a couple of weeks after I wept on my bathroom floor as I realized the heartbreaking truth I had exchanged for lies.  She was welcomed with more love and celebration than I ever could have imagined possible. We were all so happy to have her. Her full name means “Day of the Lord’s Grace”. It still brings me to tears.

But it wasn’t long before I realized that I was not in a good way. You can read the full story here, but I was in a deep battle with Postpartum depression. Again, I was at a loss. I kept thinking things like “I knew I couldn’t do five”, and wondering if I would ever feel like myself again.

I cried more than I knew I could as I watched my older children grew to fear me and as I noticed that the things I loved, the people I loved, the community that is usually my lifeline, become more and more unfamiliar. I didn’t fit anywhere. I couldn’t connect to anything.

I remember one of my worst “breakdowns” happened as I was folding laundry and I just snapped. I was filled with rage and felt like I had no control over what was coming out of my mouth. I didn’t know I was capable of such a venomous tone of voice. But my kids were getting a front-row seat to the monster I had become.

My kids were getting a front-row seat to the monster I had become - @GraceBrokeMom #Postpartum Click To Tweet

I don’t remember what I said. I don’t remember the circumstances. But I remember the tears. I remember crumbling to the ground shaking in horror and disbelief and gut-wrenching shame. “This isn’t me. This isn’t me.” was all I could say. Like a crazy person, I sat there rocking, shaking, repeating those 3 words wishing that I could just wake up from this nightmare.

“He Rescued Me Because He Delighted In Me” – Psalm 18:19 (ESV)

I wish I could point to a specific moment – a specific remedy – when I began to get better. I can’t. But what I have learned is this: I am thankful for the brokenness. In all of our struggles. In all of our pain, and insecurities, and grief… I am thankful for the brokenness. Why? Because it gives a very clear choice: choose to depend on Jesus for your every breath in the midst of the storm, or drown in your pride.

Matthew 21:44 (ESV) says it this way:

And the one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and when it falls on anyone,
it will crush him. 

I learned the most about what faith is in that season. Nothing in what I was feeling or what was my “reality” agreed with what I knew to be true about the character of God or what the identity He has given me as His child.

I felt alone.
I felt hopeless.
I felt guilty.
I felt ashamed.
I felt afraid.
I felt tired.

None of that agrees with a life that has been redeemed by our Great God.

So I had to choose to believe what I knew to be true.

He promised He will never leave (Deut. 31:6).
He is the God of Hope, Who fills us with all joy (Rom. 15:13).
He has already paid the price to remove my guilt (Isaiah 53:4-6).
Because He knows me and knows my trials and intercedes on my behalf, I can boldly approach the throne of God and receive mercy and grace (Hebrews 4:16).
Because He loves perfectly, I have nothing to fear (1John 4:18).
He is my strength, this is a season, and He is still good (Psalm 42).

It’s amazing how much I have come to love being honest about struggle. I am not a perfect parent. I often question if I’m even a very good one, but the ultimate truth is this: It’s not about me. All of life is all for Jesus.

He will have His glory one way or another and everything I do, whether on the mountaintop or in the valley is all to make Him known. My kids get to see me depend on Jesus. They get to see me rejoice in the beauty of repentance and sing the song of Miriam (Ex. 15)

In your unfailing love you will lead the people you have redeemed.
Exodus 15:13 NIV


Christy DaileyChristy Dailey – Mother to 5 kids ages 13, 11, 8, 4, and 1. She has been married to her high school sweetheart for 14 years. Originally from the beautiful central coast of California, their family now resides in the beautiful desert of Phoenix, AZ where they serve at Redemption Church. Christy writes at Grace Broke Mom.

Grace Broke Mom is a story of learning to see our imperfections as opportunities for grace. It’s a place where we can be honest about our struggles as parents, and as women (though men have plenty to glean!) and realize that we have no one to impress, nothing to prove, and that we are right where we need to be to experience the irresistible grace of a great, great God, who empowers us with everything we need to dance in hope through the growing pains.

You can find Christy online:

gracebrokemom.com

http://facebook.com/gracebrokemom

http://instagram.com/gracebrokemom

http://twitter.com/gracebrokemom

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Written by Stephanie K. Adams

1 Comment

Liz

Praise God for what He is doing through you and your story to encourage women every where! Blessings!

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