February 2012 Archives - Narrow Paths to Higher Places

Your blog is only as good as your marriage.

I was planning on finishing up my post on Blissdom but upon arriving home, I was met with a nasty stomach bug. Think of this post as a five-minute Friday. I didn’t edit or over think and I’m still as sick as ever so this may or may not make sense. Josh had been gallantly holding down the fort while I was in Nashville. Nehemiah had thrown up all over our bed the night before I flew out so I knew I was leaving him with his hands full. He got sick also and between him and my mother, managed to clean up vomit, administer tylenol, and keep the house running.

I got in late Sunday night and after tight hugs and snuggles with the family, I crawled into my bed, happy to finally get to sleep after a long day of traveling. I didn’t know that I would stay in that bed for the next 3 days. My body began to ache and my stomach churned. I was either sweating out the peak of the fever of curled into a clammy ball. My soggy sheets were wrapped around me and I slept, vomited, and slept some more.

During all of this, Josh cared for the kids, who were still sick. Cleaned vomit from the carpet when Kaia didnt’ quite make it to the bathroom. Woke, rocked, and changed Nehemiah in the middle of the night while my fever raged on and I was in a delirious stupor. I am still in the throes of this horrible ick so I may be making less sense than I hope.

Tsh from Simple Mom, said something during her writing session at Blissdom. “Your blog is only as good as your marriage.” She was referring to her partnership with her husband and how they work together to make Simple Living Media, their family, and their marriage work.

After meeting so many amazing women at Blissdom and getting to know their stories, I am truly blessed. But the truth is Josh is and always will be my biggest fan. He supports my dreams, encourages my fantasies, and quells my insecurities. He is always there for me. After a week like this one where I have been pretty much catatonic, he has stepped up again and carried the burden for us both. He is one of the main reasons that I can do the things that I feel called to do. So, thanks Josh, for all the support. I couldn’t do any of it without you.

Comments: 10 Comments Category: Blogging, Family, Marriage Tags: blogging, encouragement, marriage

Blissdom: My first blogging conference

I am leaving to go to a women’s blogging conference today. Blissdom will commence Thursday, after 700 women of all different backgrounds, writing styles, blog niches, and outfits converge on Nashville,Tennessee. The twitter boards are alive and jumping with nervous anticipation and excitement. And fear. So much fear.

Many of the women in my #Blissdomnewbies group have never been to a conference like this. Some, like me, haven’t been blogging for long at all and are still learning everything. Some have done it for years, and some have many years behind them but are just now starting to desire more from the blogging experience. A lot of us don’t know another soul. I’m lucky enough to have a bloggy friend I’ve made this year who will be there and that has given me some assurance that I’m not completely alone in a brand new city amidst a sea of women tweeting into their iPhones.

Watching these twitter boards and the conversations that flow out of them I’ve noticed a few things, and boy, do I relate!

1. Women really do want to belong.

We want to have community, we want to be one of the girls. Even the introverts (like me) want to make connections with other people who get us. Who understand that we live to write. It’s a part of me that God has created and I as I am trusting Him, I’m feeling his pleasure. It’s so important for all of us to feel connected to each other both in what we are passionate about and also with people who are different from us that we can learn from. Community is essential no matter what you do with your life.

2. Women are afraid of other women.

Maybe it’s the classic mean girls scenario that plays in your head, or the traumatic sleepover you went to in fifth grade where your “friends,” put your underwear in the freezer. Girls can be mean. When my son used to squabble with his cousin/best friend, we always knew it because someone got punched or pushed. It was all out and aggressive and then it was over. Both of them knew they were mad and both expressed it, albeit not in the best way. At least it was quickly remedied. Girls tend to one-up each other. They don’t punch each other but they jab with snide comments or the obvious exclusion of the ostracized girl. The passive-aggressive pathology of girl relationships is astounding in our culture. They have the better outfit or the better hair, and they’re gonna make sure you know it too. Some women may still be this way, but I’d venture to say that most are not. And if you see someone being a mean girl, go out of your way to be a nice one. I admit, I’ve been really hurt by girls in my life. But these past years have brought slow redemption and I am open to friendships with women where I used to be closed off. Although, there a lot of worries about fitting in at a conference like this while everyone else is witty and dazzling and you feel like you might win the award for most awkward presence in the room, most people have admitted to feeling the exact same way.

3. Women compare… A LOT.

We do. We judge and rank and profile. We hope we’re not on the bottom of the rung. We wonder if we are still a blogger if we only have a few readers, most of whom include our own family, or if we have a voice if we’re not married yet or don’t have kids. We wonder if anyone really cares what we’re saying. We wonder if the “big” bloggers out there are going to shun us with their cool big bloggerness ( yes, that is absolutely a word.) We wonder if our hair is ok, if our clothes are right, if we pack too much or too little. We wonder who’s going to wear what so we can also decide. We compare. But the truth is that we’re all so different. We all have something intrinsically unique about us and we all bring something different to the table. Be you and be great at it! You’ll never fail.

alli worthington, catherine conners, blissdom

Blissdom ladies photo credit: angryjuliemonday

4. When women get to connect in community, move past insecurity, fear, and comparison, we have a blast.

I already know I’m going to have a blast because I really don’t feel nervous anymore. I worked through all the “oh, I’m just a small blog… ” and am truly embracing it all. I’m certain there are going to be women who still feel insecure and are comparing and I say, ” I want to find them and make them feel great about themselves.” I am one of the last people to ever offer false flattery, ask my sister-in-law who went shopping with me once; I am honest. I’m not going to go around passing out fluffy comments just because, that’s not me. But because of my introversion, I am good at getting to know people and really looking deep for that special thing about them that makes them worth getting to know and maybe they’ll see that thing in me too. I’m hoping to make some great new relationships.

Whether you are attending a blogging conference or not, women feel these things. Make an effort to encourage someone in something you genuinely admire about them. Be you, and don’t worry about the rest. So bon voyage, I’m off to be Alia. I’ll be updating small picture posts for the week so stay tuned for all my experiences at my first blogging conference.

Comments: 20 Comments Category: Blogging, Creativity, Relationship Tags: blogging, comparison, friends, joy

My Struggle with Depression: Pain in the fog

My kids love to play Lego. I join them. We build other worlds in our imaginations. And I sit on the floor in front of their Lego tables criss-cross apple sauce as the kids say. My body can only take sitting on the floor for so long until my feet fall asleep. Completely numb. And when the Lego blocks are arranged and my life summons me to cook dinner, answer emails, or plan lessons; I emerge from our kingdom, numb and tingling. I have to stand still first as the needles prick my feet and the tingling bubbles through my nerves. I can’t find stable footing until I can feel completely. I stand wiggling a toe at a time, before I can begin to walk.

This has been my experience when I surface from the blinding white. When the world starts to come into focus, and I begin to make out shapes in the hazy light.

After over a year of postpartum depression ,which had remained undiagnosed, I became pregnant. This pregnancy was brutal from the very beginning. I spent the first 14 weeks clinging to the toilet bowl, retching. Exhaustion claimed me and I sunk even further. I expelled everything that crossed my lips. And then, it seemed to lift. I started to feel better physically and the nausea receded.

The jelly was warm and gooey as it spread over my belly. Josh sat in the corner of the room holding Judah. Our first meeting with our new baby. The ultrasound wand danced over my skin and the doctor frowned. My head angled to see the grainy screen. The faint outline of a baby, my baby, floating still and silent. And then these words, ” At 16 weeks, we should see fetal activity and a definite heartbeat. I’m so sorry, but I don’t see any signs of life. It appears that the baby has passed.”

The glare of the fluorescent lights above pierced deep and as I squeezed my eyes shut tight to block it all, my lashes failing at holding back the flood of tears cascading down my cheeks.

Pain shot through me. Vibrating and jarring me awake, like the sudden blast of a shrieking alarm clock.

And there would be more pain. Drawn out long. Operating rooms and bleeding, infection and fear. Anger at the why me? Sorrow and weeping. Loss.

flickr photo by freewine

The world became hazy. I was no longer blinded by the white. I could see the faint silhouette of my former soul but I was helpless to grasp her. My doctor looked deep into my eyes and saw the despair. He scribbled out an introduction to an ally that would help me in this battle on his white doctors pad. A little white pill that would help me to find my way back. The scales were beginning to fall from my eyes and new light was coming in. Not harsh or blinding, but soft like the dawning of a fresh new morning.

And it was painful. The pins and needles shocking me as I began to move parts that had been stagnant for too long. The adjustment to all sensation coming back. The wiggling of toes and the feeling creeping in. The ability to see where I had been and to begin to talk about it. To connect to those around me and find healing in my story. A story whose final chapter is yet to be written. But when the tingling pain subsided, and I was finally able to move again, I could take my first step.