Lesson #22: Why the truth hurts.

Dear Baby,

This one is hard. But the point of this blog is to tell you the truth about who I was (or am) so I feel it important to share this. One the eve of your second birthday your mother hit bottom. I don't like being sad, baby. And I am very good at being happy. But sometimes I have been blue. Very very blue. Seemingly for no reason. It would go away so I thought nothing of it but lately the blues have been more frequent and the old tricks I had developed for making them go away were no longer working. So after much heartache I realized, with the help of your wonderful and adoring father, that it was time to see a doctor. Someone who could help your momma get healthy in her head again. Today I took that step.

And you know what? It wasn't bad. I walked in and said "Prepare yourself, dude, cause there is going to be a lot of crying." But there wasn't. There was a lot of talking. About expectations. About wanting to be perfect and a rock for others and someone who was never sad. It's been a lot of work pretending to be happy all of the time. And it's been lying. And assholes lie, baby. So, mommy didn't want to be an asshole anymore.

There is some work to do. And my doctor thinks it's going to be a nice journey relearning myself. And I feel optimistic that I can get to where I want to go. That now I have a map and before I was just driving with no destination. And that feels good. A lot of mommies have trouble coping and adjusting. Especially these days cause they have lots more to do. I wanted to be strong enough to do it all without help. But sometimes it's stronger to realize you can't do it all alone.

But I do want to apologize to you, baby. I want to tell you how sorry I am that I didn't take care of this sooner. That I didn't fight harder earlier to be the best me I could be for your first two years on earth. And I can only hope that by the time you remember things I will be healthier for you. Stronger for you. Better for you. And that I can teach you how to be brave. And that sometimes it's braver to be sad and let people see that than it is to pretend to be happy. And, funnily enough, the promise that I can eventually do that makes me...well, happy. Isn't that funny? I mean, not "ha-ha funny" but you know what I mean.

Anyway, you are doing great. You're two and we're celebrating our birthdays this weekend. We're having a big huge party. I got you a Dora pinata cause you LOVE Dora. This past weekend was Easter and we went to San Diego so you could do the annual egg hunt with your cousins. You kicked ass at it. And you are talking so much now, too. Your current favorite word is quesadilla. You still love the park, and gymnastics and drawing with crayon or chalk. You love to laugh and sing. You are joy. And you give me the courage to face things that I'd much rather smile though. So thank you, baby.

Onwards and upwards. Love, Mommy