Note: It took me a day to write this. It started off with excitement that I suddenly had time to write! Then Maeve woke up half way through. Luckily, she fell back asleep. Then I dropped my jar of fine salt. Then Maeve insisted on a snack of only rice. Just rice which she used her hands to pick up kernel by kernel. Evening has come and as I get ready to hit publish, I'm in the pits of pits. I mistimed baking cookies and it overlapped with Rosie's extracurricular activity. Maeve cried the whole time I hurriedly baked. Dana came home and reached for a hug. I snapped at him, "Go get that devil child!" Now I'm alone, one glass of wine in hand, cookies baked, supper in the instant pot and I feel completely stupid for having tried to accomplish more than one thing a day. I should've known better. How many times will I have to learn this lesson? Still, the family agrees these cookies are worth a million of my meltdowns. 

Ironically, after hitting the publish button on my last blog post, I wandered into my living room and spiralled into a major panic attack. This was my second ever panic attack and though I knew what to expect, it was still absolutely debilitating.

My attacks involve inescapable grips of paralysis, hyperventilation and uncontrollable wailing. Not sobbing or crying, I mean wailing at the top of my lungs and I have absolutely no control. It's like my body gets separated from my mind and I watch this madwoman fall apart. My last attack landed me in the hospital because we all assumed I had eaten a peanut and was going into anaphylactic shock. No one, not even me, thought it could be anxiety related.

These experiences are terrifying and this time I was home alone with Maeve. With a bit of foresight, I was able to place a napping Maeve in my arms. That child can sleep through anything as long as she is being held.

My older girls weren't so protected. They arrived home with grandpa to find me shaking on the sofa unable to move and get my meds. Thea took Maeve and rushed upstairs with fear plastered over her face. Rosie scrambled to find the medicine bin and helped me take those precious emergency-only anxiety pills. She looked utterly shocked.

Within 10 mins, the panic released me and I was depleted. The girls didn't say much. I left it to Grandpa to explain what happened as I crawled to my bed.

From that day on, I promised myself I would never let my kids see that again. Self care and healing was now a job I had to take as seriously as parenting.

Instead of seeing my therapist ad-hoc, I asked to be put on a 6 month program with biweekly sessions. I needed a tight container to hold myself accountable. I knew I'd use the excuse of exhaustion to further ignore or procrastinate the deep sorrow and grief I was repressing. There's this fabulous book called 'The Body Keeps the Score' and my body wasn't giving me an inch anymore.

My therapist gently gave me another label for my current state - PTSD. My reaction was of denial. PTSD is for soldiers and people who have witnessed horrible things. My small life didn't count, right? I couldn't deny that last panic attack though. I couldn't deny that my stress reaction to normal things were wayyyyy beyond what was needed.

Ok, I'm a person living with chronic stress and PTSD. Now what?

As fate would have it, I googled "yoga retreats nearby" and found a wellness centre 45 mins away that specialized in trauma victims. I signed up for a weeklong retreat and, with a heart heavy in "mom-guilt", I packed my bags and started the path to healing.

I've quite possibly changed my life forever with the help of this retreat and my therapy. I'm only 2 months into this process but the hints of lightness are like nothing I've experienced before. The pits of pits still happen but I am finally tuning into their lessons. I feel uncomfortably exposed and vulnerable in writing all this but deep deep down, I feel called to share. More to come and I hope it is received with an open mind because this healing journey so far has been surreal.

The ups and downs of caring for a sick child can be dizzying. I picked up a paperback recently from Reese Witherspoon's book club - HAPPINESS: A MEMOIR: THE CROOKED LITTLE ROAD TO SEMI-EVER AFTER.

I'm only a few chapters in and frequently have to put down the book to clutch my chest. The relatableness of her experience birthing a baby and suddenly being whisked away in Intensive Care gives me flashbacks.

I've consumed a number of books over the last two years. Mostly audiobooks to pass the time as I rock Maeve to sleep. Here are some of my favorites...

This audiobook had me in stitches. The narrator has an extensive range of British, Irish and Scottish accents. Anything by Neil Gaiman gets my thumbs up.

Another comedic audiobook - who wouldn't want to listen to Trevor Noah's lilting South African accent? I'd listen to this on my walk to yoga and just have a smile stretched on my face the whole time. Trevor also talks about South Africa's rich history most of which was new to me.

I bought the paperback AND audiobook for this novel. Esther has a beautiful french accent which I loved listening to. This book is combination of relationship therapy, sex therapy and everything about practicing effective communication in any relationship. Dana introduced me to Esther after hearing her interview with Tim Ferriss. She also hosts a podcast where she records live therapy sessions - Where Should We Begin. Esther flipped my mindset on modern love, outdated relationship expectation, fantasies and monogamy. I could write a separate blog post just on the things that Esther taught me (and maybe I will next time). 

This audiobook I listened with my kids on our drive up to Toronto last summer. We arrived after 4 hours and debated whether to continue driving JUST to see how the chapter ended. TBH, both Dana and I listened to the audiobook when our kids were in bed - we couldn't help it!

I was introduced to Dr. Shefali on Oprah's Super Soul podcast. She approaches parenting from the perspective that your children can be your biggest self development teachers if you let them. By reflecting on your parenting approach, values, decision - you will quickly uncover all these subconscious layers of belief sets you didn't realize you had. Caveat: your discovery will be quick. Then it'll take years to unravel its meaning, decide whether you still believe in those ideals AND THEN figure out how the hell that meshes with your children's completely different value sets. Here's a small example of what Dr. Shefali challenged me with.

Her prompt: What conditions, beliefs & fears do we impose on our children? After some thinking, I jotted down...

While these beliefs are commonplace, what I actually realized was these beliefs stem from fears I held throughout my teenage years. In those days, all I wanted to be was independant, interesting and part of the cool kids. The more difficult follow up question I had to ask myself was what will I do if my children don't have these fears. What if they're totally comfortable being dependant on their support network? Shouldn't I think it's wonderful that they have such high trust and a strong familial base that they don't feel the need to be in control? How can I value their beliefs without superimposing my past fears? Super cool stuff from Dr. Shefali if you ready for deep introspection.

I read something about Seth Godin recently. It was in an interview with Tim Ferriss where Seth explained the things he actively doesn't do - which is just as fascinating as the things he does ritualize. Seth focuses on writing short, powerful daily blog posts. He doesn't watch his analytics, his social media and he doesn't have a comments section. He pours his energy and his "give a fucks" with intent.

This rings so strongly with me. My biggest writing deterrent is often the socializing of the post. Hitting that publish button is stress provoking enough - I'm usually at my limit when I move on to crafting an enticing yet short Facebook or Instagram snippet. 

Before I know it, I end up spending the next 48 hours refreshing my web traffic, seeing how many likes I collected or not having an emotional breakdown when I read all the beautiful comments friends' and family have left.

Seth's words liberated me so here I am. Just writing. Just spending what precious alone time I have trying to put words to all these emotions and inane mind chatter I constantly witness.

Sorry to my friends for not sharing that I'm sharing Maeve updates. Hahaha. I think I'll keep the comments though. Lord knows how awkward I get when someone tries to say nice words to my face.

What if social media focussed on the experiment of life - the constant work in progress? The unravelling instead of a shiny polished product?

The carefully crafted picture social media pressures me to share. Note: she never allows headbands. Same with footwear. That spinny toy... she mostly empties it and uses the stick to hit people.	Actual life where it takes 24 hours to fully scrub off the greek yogurt residue under her neck fold.

I've been struggling with sharing any updates. On one hand, nothing has really changed. On the other hand, lots has changed. Hahaha. In my unsatisfied state, I've chosen apathy vs. just going with what I have.

Alas, something has shifted within me and I can garble enough desire to begin typing out the last year. The up and downs. The full incomplete story.

I'll start with the current state of affairs and work my way back. There's been much I've witnessed in myself, my family and in life though I'm far from being able to process those moments into learnings. Ah well, feck the desire to want everything perfectly packaged. 

Maeve is doing well. She's grown in development if not much in size. She prefers bum scooting as a form of transportation. I've caught her sliding a tupperware lid under her butt to gain extra speed. She loves to eat and then spit out her food; so we are still using her feeding tube as the primary source of nutrition. She babbles and says a handful of words like: cheese (only when a phone is held up in her general vicinity), buh-bye (followed by a rapid succession of air kisses), uh oh and nose. 

Health wise, Maeve's heart is stable for the time being. We've finally gotten confirmation that her Gtube surgery will be attempted (date unknown). Whether they'll actually be able to install won't be confirmed until they're inside. grumble grumble.

The older girls are doing well. They're fantastic babysitters most of the time (though I have come downstairs to find Maeve eating out of my plant pot while the girls are zombie-ing over Netflix RIGHT NEXT TO HER). If anyone ever wants to debate the pros and cons of having children with (and without) age gaps - I'm eager to compare notes. 

That's all I can type out for now. The TV is tired of watching Maeve and she's coloring on Dana's precious white walls.