A New Life

It has been far too long.

Since I last wrote life has gone on, but also changed. Somewhere along the way I let depression take my voice. Every time I started to write, a whisper in my mind would say, “Why bother?”

But life doesn’t stop when you are battling depression. Postpartum depression and PMDD don’t make your babies stop growing any faster. They don’t slow down the steady cadence of time.

So here we are almost two years later. I’m still fighting to regain myself. Some days are better than others. Overall I am happy. I still have the best husband ever and three beautiful kiddos.

Our New Normal

So an update on life…

I’m now 30. I kind of thought I’d feel more adult-y at this point. Growing up is a much slower process than I’d ever imagined… Until I hang around teenagers. Then I feel all sorts of adult.

We have lived in “the old house” for two years now. We still have our rescue dog, Miri. I’m a stay at home mom.

K is now 6 and in the first grade. He is completely obsessed with Minecraft and Star Wars. He is still the funniest kid ever. He has an amazing teacher who really does well with his quirkiness.

E is 4 and still our fearless, sometimes vexingly so, child. She plays guitar and loves to sing. (In this case “plays guitar” means she stands on a chair while furiously strumming her little pink guitar and singing made up songs.)

Baby F is now a hybrid toddler/zombie/dinosaur. He enjoys roaring at people and trying to eat their brains. He has remained significantly more petite than his giant siblings. He is my little buddy.

Life with three kids is still an entirely new beast from having 1 or 2. I will never “just run into the store” ever again. A trip now involves one of those behemoth carts that has the turning radius of an AT-AT. It also involves threats on screen time and frequently repeating “don’t touch that” and “come back here”.

In fact I recently said the most mom thing I’ve ever uttered on a trip to the store. I looked up to find E chasing K down the aisle. I finally got them back to the cart. K told me E had started chasing him.

I actually heard the phrase, “I don’t care who started it. I’m finishing it.” Then I realized that it has come from me. I said that.

I’m pretty sure my mom must have felt a disturbance in the force and shed a single proud tear.

So that is where I am for now. I’m momming it up and doing the best I can with my own little circus.

-Cori “Mama” Miller

If you or someone you know is suffering from postpartum depression or premenstrual dysphoric disorder, please don’t stay silent or let them go it alone. Talking to others and reaching out for help is so so important. 

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