Since services for women with postnatal depression are minimal where I live, I've had to work so hard to build my own support network. At times, I've felt very jealous of the support my city friends from the Mother Baby Unit receive.
Lately, it seems like every door of help has been slammed shut in my face...
My mum is not well and is therefore unable to help out at the level she used to.
Daycare are short-staffed, so they can longer take as many kids. I'm not guaranteed of getting a place one day a week for the boys, so I can get six hours of respite.
Our search for an au pair for harvest time was becoming fruitless and frustrating. Harvest is just weeks away.
Although I didn't want to, I was becoming increasingly angry at God. Why was He taking away every avenue of support? When I tried to find help, why was He slamming every door in my face?
Eventually I exploded and did a bit of door slamming of my own. I walked out on Duncan and the boys one evening. I drove off rather recklessly before realising I had nothing but the clothes on my back. I sat on the side of the road in the dark and screamed and cried out to God. Why? Why?
Sleep deprivation makes everything worse.
Of course, I had to go back home. I had nowhere else to go.
Maybe God was trying to teach me yet again, that where else have I to go but Him? Maybe He wanted to break me to get me to stop trying to solve everything in my own strength, and turn to Him first in prayer?
I've been able to get a spot at daycare for the past couple of weeks, when it all seemed hopeless.
My mum was able to help out the past couple of days.
And....we might have found an au pair.
Once again, I've been humbled by our Almighty God's love and care for little me. How nothing is impossible for Him.
My anger has been turned to repentance and thanksgiving.