Healing Others

I’ve been practicing Reiki at the master level for a few years now. I’ve only ever found myself in situations where I performed a Reiki session on a consenting adult or on myself.

Now I find myself in a position where I desperately want to soothe my 18 month old daughter and help her to heal herself through this difficult, confusing, uncomfortable, and painful time. And I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do.

She’s having some intestinal issues that are, as expected, disrupting the rest of her system. She already has eczema and it’s been alarmingly worse. On top of that, she’s developed thrush and isn’t sleeping well.

My mind tells me that I should do what I do; that I should allow Reiki to help her. But my heart tells me that I should use caution. Ego can sometimes take the form of the qualities we trust and speak on the place of Truth. I don’t want my Ego to tell me this is the right thing would Truth would counsel me otherwise. 

That’s why I don’t trust myself to reach out to my daughter’s True Self and her guides and find out if Reiki is right in this situation. My Mother’s ego is too dominant of a voice right now telling me that all that matters is for her to get better.

As for Truth, I can’t see clearly enough to know what that answer might be.

Struggling

My depression and anxiety have been alarmingly bad lately. I’m struggling to connect with my daughter, my self, and my Gods.

I’m so far from my usual self, let alone the person I’m working so hard to become. It’s frightening. For the past 2 weeks I’ve made no strong effort to seek guidance from Poseidon or Persephone.

As I’m writing this I’m hoping it’s not an effect of separating from the bond I had been developing with Hekate, but I don’t think she’s spiteful in this way.

Today, moments ago actually, I reached out to Persephone. I saw a shower of flowers in the cave like dwelling where I visit her and was overcome by tears. It was so strong and sudden that I immediately pulled out of the meditation.

Why do I not feel like I’m ready for this experience? Is it some deep rooted healing? Am I in such bad shape that she would be so forceful in her cleansing?

I fear I may be and I fear I may not be able to handle such a healing at this time, no matter how much I may be in need of it.

((Somewhat of a ranting blurb, but I felt the need to share this.))

Diapers: Up & Up vs. Huggies

Duckie is just over a year old and as a new mom I’ve played the diaper dating game a little here and there. Pampers and Huggies came home with us from the two hospitals (birth hospital and jaundice treatment hospital). We tried Luvs on an emergency run while visiting my mother at the VA. And we’ve switched back and forth between Huggies and Up & Up (Target Brand) pretty regularly based on budget.

I recently moved her up from a size 3 to a size 4 and here’s what I’ve noticed so far.

Up & Up

Right now, size 4 in these diapers is 28.99 USD for 144 diapers. These diapers used to be 24.99 for the same count. I also used to prefer these diapers to any other brand. The pattern is bland but I’m not buying them for decoration. They were sturdy, absorbent, they didn’t give her a rash, and they were great value.

What I’ve noticed recently with these diapers is that they don’t pull the moisture away from my little babe’s skin. She has gotten diaper rash more times in the last couple of weeks than she has in the last year. And they fill up so quickly. I have to change Duckie’s diaper twice as often as normal.

They’ve become flimsy and don’t hold closed which leads to a lot of leaks. It’s frustrating that I have to change sheets almost every night (on two beds because we bedshare via the sidecar method).

Huggies Little Movers

These diapers are a whopping 45.99 for 152 diapers. This price can break the bank some months and I’m brought to tears anytime I have a coupon or a deal on the Cartwheel app. Sometimes I have no choice but to get the Up & Ups. But these diapers are the best we’ve used recently. I notice the leaking only at the same time I notice she’s ready to go up a size. They hold up well against her bedtime gymnastics and daytime dance offs. If she picks at her diaper there’s not a ton of diaper fuzz that can end up in her mouth. They don’t irritate her skin. She doesn’t end up with a saggy bottom right away and never any diaper rash.

Needless to say Huggies wins the battle.

What I don’t understand is why there is such a drastic difference in price and quality between diapers. These items are treated as though it’s a luxury to to not have your baby piss and crap all over the place. If cloth diapers weren’t so expensive I’d probably have made that switch by now. Unfortunately, at this point, Duckie will probably start potty training before the investment would be worth it.

TL;DR: Postpartum Depression

It used to be that when you thought of the USA you thought of freedom, triumph, and success. These days, it’s becoming more and more evident just how many ways in which that is not the case. We are living in a time where all of America’s big taboo topics seem to be simultaneously in the foreground . While the various topics under the umbrellas of equality and equity are being juggled around, it seems as though one topic in particular continues to get conveniently swept under the rug: mental health.

Whether it be PTSD, anxiety, depression, or any other mental health issue, no one seems to have time to look at what’s clearly in front of them.

11-20% of women who give birth each year are reported to have postpartum depression. This number doesn’t include the countless women who suffer silently and alone.

This week in my home city here in SOCAL, a mother took the life of her 8 week old son and then took her own life.

The local news released a brief article describing the event. How sad. How unfortunate. “Please contact us if you know anything.”

My daughter is just over a year old now but the memories of those first few weeks have hardly left me. While I’m greatful that the idea of harming her never crossed my mind, I had plenty of other thoughts to work myself through.

In the immediacy of the depression I was, in fact, alone. If not for the breastfeeding support group I was (and still am) in, I fear I may have abandoned my child in some way or another. And my guilt still tells me that, for one night, I did just that.

10 hours of emotional hell is too long. Dragging yourself out by your own bleeding fingernails (metaphorically, still) is too hard.
I wish this mother had had the support that I had from a tribe of mothers unafraid to reach out and be open. A tribe of women with been-there-done-that experience and here-and-now compassion.

Here are a few things you can do to help any mother through a difficult time, whether she be a few days postpartum or a few years. Postpartum depression has no time line.

Ask her how she’s doing.

This is easily do able. Sometimes all she needs is for someone to be there, ready and willing to listen. Don’t make her feel bad about repeating the same problems you heard last week. All of it is most certainly still a problem. Just be there open and willing to understand.

Offer your hands.

The hardest things to get done sometimes when you have a child around are the little things. Dishes, vacuuming, changing sheets, restocking toilet paper. Offer to handle the small chores at times when she needs a moment to re-enter herself. Or, when she doesn’t; getting the small stuff out of the way when she’s doing great will give her the chance to get ahead of the curve.

Remind her of what’s important.

Remind her that she’s doing an amazing job. Every day she gets through, no matter how messily it may get done, is a triumph. And every once in a while, remind her that it’s OK to take time to take care of herself. Self care is one of the most important things for a mom to remember. The benefits of a shower, eating well, and drinking enough water are legion, but brushing her teeth and combing her hair are more than just mundane tasks when she’s gone two weeks without doing either. They can feel like the most luxurious spa day given enough time without them.