Blair Shackle

Coaching + Marketing + Virtual Assisting

Happy I’m here: My life 2 years after postpartum psychosis

SPRINGTIME

Thought I’d give ya’ll a bit of an update that also ties in with me speaking (eee! 😬) at the Daisy Dash 5K (proceeds go to Pregnancy and Postpartum Support Minnesota to help continue with their mission to support new and expectant parents struggling with perinatal mood or anxiety disorders, loss, birth trauma, and anything else that comes along with having babies) on Saturday, May 21 (full moon, peeps! 🌕🔮 coming full circle!).

I remember two years ago attending the Daisy Dash just shy of eight weeks postpartum. At that point I couldn’t even go to Target, face my friends, or drive in the car alone with my son, so I don’t know how I was able to find the inner courage to make it to the walk, but I am so glad I did. 

I look back now and notice super small seeds of strength being planted, and I am so grateful because today those seeds are now beautiful flowers in my life that I get to enjoy. 

So, to back up, two years ago I had postpartum psychosis which was followed by postpartum anxiety and PTSD. Undiagnosed anxiety during pregnancy due to a miscarriage and a traumatic birth landed me in the hospital for psychosis when my sweet son, River, was just over a week old.

I am so glad I was able to get the care I needed so quickly, with the help of my supportive family, otherwise I don’t think I would be here right now. 

Here I am now, two years and a few months postpartum…being asked to speak out loud about my experience. I never thought that would happen. And it’s not because I’m special or unique, but because I had the bravery, maybe just like you, to say “It can get better” coupled with a passion to make sure mamas know they’re not alone.

Along the journey, and it has been a winding one, sometimes full of dark caverns and raging rapids, I’ve learned a few things. I’ll share three today and I hope they bring you peace. First…

You are exactly who your child hoped and wished for

Very simply, no matter what happened, or what will continue to happen with those little parenting slip ups that are bound to be a part of the journey, you are the perfect mother for your child…postpartum depression, anxiety, psychosis, PTSD, and all. Keep showing up. They don’t need you to be different or plaster a fake smile on your face, they just need you to be there and care. By showing your child that life isn’t always perfect and we aren’t always meant to be all sunshine-y and happy is an incredible GIFT. We’d never expect our children to be happy all the time. It’s just not gonna happen. Allow your children and your experience to open you up accepting the present moment (no matter what!) and embracing imperfection.

Accept that you will never be the same again

I am hearing a resounding “Duh,” but this one is a toughie. I know it was for me. I thought I could as they say, “Keep calm and carry on” with my old self after I had my son, but what actually happened was a complete rebirth spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. It is HARD to say goodbye to that person you were before. And on top of what is probably the toughest experience you’ve ever had, you’re expected to land on your feet and be the same person you were before. That won’t happen. You will never be the same again, but you will be better. This may sound crazy, but that horrifying experience you survived is full of so many gifts and underneath it all, a beautiful new person who is so much more capable of loving not only her new child and family, but herself. This new person is also more sensitive (one of the most glorious gifts, friends), someone who has the ability to sustain life just by simply being, and someone who knows when it is time to use “The Golden Rule” with herself first. Allow this new you to unfold in its own time. You may not recognize this person yet, but in time you will love her with all your heart as you do your own child.

The path to healing is a winding river

Some days are gonna be amazing and some days you’re going to wonder if you’re getting better at all. You are. I promise. Healing is very rarely a straight line. Healing looks more like a river…winding through the rapids, maybe a waterfall or two, and then peaceful calm. Don’t forget to continue to ask for and seek out the help you need. And remember, healing is going to look different for all of us and that’s OK! Do what you need to do to be your best in this moment without worrying about what it looks like to others. And paddling upstream has never been easy for anyone. Just keep flowing and have faith that wherever the river takes you today is where you are meant to be.

I leave you with this…

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“Our scars are someone else’s signs of hope.” The wonderful Danielle La Porte wrote that and it is so fitting for those in the postpartum mood disorder recovery tribe.

Just your presence and bravery to be here is powerful beyond measure. 

So that’s where I’m at two years postpartum. I’m so happy I chose to stay. And so, so grateful.

My heart is hugging your heart, friends 💜

The Moment You Realize You’re Still Broken…

If you follow me on social media, you may have heard that I began training as a birth doula this past weekend.

Ever since having my little one, it took me awhile to realize it, but I LOVE birth, new babies, and more importantly, new mamas. So, this is a natural fit.

When I first entered the class on Friday night, I was feeling a mix of…”Holy crap, I’m doing this huh?” and “I’m thrilled to be following the breadcrumbs the Universe leaves for me.”

When we arrived, everyone in class was given a notebook with a different uplifting phrase on it. Here is the one I received.

doula workshop

Feel your true power.

That’s definitely a phrase I attach a lot of meaning to. My pregnancy and birth was often about not leaning in to my own power. It was more…deny, deny, deny. QUICK! Find something to replace this nasty emotion of fear, anxiety, depression, apathy. I was scared. Unsure about transitioning to motherhood. And not how I would define a very confident pregnant person and new mama.

For so long I’ve trained myself not to embrace my inner power. I didn’t allow myself to feel those hard to feel emotions. Now I know that it is so important for me to lean in to those feelings. Invite them to stay and help me learn something, and then, when I’ve felt it enough, thank them for their help and send them gracefully on their way.

In fairness, I’m a work in progress and there are still cracks in my foundation.

So how can I embrace my inner power to help other mamas find theirs during their pregnancy, birth, and the postpartum period?

A big takeaway from my doula training is how precious every birth and postpartum story is.

I was blessed with a challenging labor, birth, and postpartum. But I also realized that I’m still working through uncovering more of that blessing. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like a blessing and other times it does. Or simply, I’m still very tender and sore in parts of my heart.

I never expected that this training would open me up again. Ouchy.

For the next two days, I sat in class with that familiar tickle behind your nose and eyes…you know, the one where you could unleash a river of tears at any moment. Watching and hearing different birth stories made me feel less-than again. Seeing all the beautiful mamas birth their babes without medical interventions made me jealous, asking for a do-over. Then there was hearing, seeing, and experiencing what a doula truly does that made me so upset that I didn’t have one. What a difference she potentially could have made for me and my family.

I also thought…do these feelings make me a bad or less-than doula? Well, no. But, I feel as if I need to do more healing of my son’s birth story before I can bring my best light to the births of others.

Finding those old cracks in my foundation allowed *more* light to stream in and fill up the empty spaces. What a gift that I didn’t even know I needed.

more light in the cracks

Now, it’s almost like I can feel the birth of my son emotionally much more. With this, there is a big part of me that wants to still go back and do it over again (yes, even the painful physical parts!). I see him now and tears of pride and gratitude well up behind my eyes. I hug him with more bursting love than ever before. I whisper in his ear that he came at the *perfect* time and in the perfect way. And that he did such an amazing job joining us Earthside.

Someday I will be that doula that gets to tell the mama that her birth is mystical, powerful, sacred, inspiring, and p-e-r-f-e-c-t. And hold her hand and heart with strength and softness as she becomes reborn too. I will get to whisper in the little babe’s ear that his or her part in birth was perfect too and that he/she was welcomed with overflowing love.

And every time I witness a birth, I will have the privilege to be reborn alongside beautiful souls, and honor my birth story and the true power within all mamas everywhere.

Celebrating My Rebirth-day

11 year ago today I had my son. And I don’t think it was just chance that River was born just two days after my birthday.

My water broke the night of my thirtieth year, beginning my initiation into a new life.

Nearly 365 days ago, my life looked completely different. I was just a few hours away from giving birth to a beautiful new soul, well, two in fact.

The winding road, or as we call it in our house, the wild River, took me to new depths, washed away all unnecessary and unused parts of my B.C. (before child) life, and baptized me into the light tribe. You know, that soulful, shining group of people who have experienced first hand that beautiful Rumi quote:

The wound is the place where the light enters.

This is the light tribe.  

Today I want to thank myself for deciding (it was a choice) to flow with the River instead of paddle agains’t its strong current.

I also want to thank my son for showing up in my life when I didn’t think I needed him, but I did. I thought I was awake before I met him, but I had much more awakening to experience.

river and blair hug 1 year

His light is so bright that I had to shed much of my darkness to be around such an enlightened soul. What a path he has already chosen, to help me and so many people that he touches. There’s no denying that this little guy has a BIG heart, soul, and purpose.

How humbling it is to be his mama. How enlightening it is to be me now.

Of course, there’s always improvement to be made, or new challenges to face, but they’re different now. It’s more of a sense of “I’ve got this” vs. “What the F do I do, now?”

So, I am grateful. Thankful. Joyful. Present.

And I cannot forget to thank all the other members of the light tribe out there. In any form or fashion, but I’m talking to you most dearly mamas.

You’ve been struck. Wounded. Disarmed. Cut.

Your identity is not what it once was. You’re scared, unsure, anxious, sad.

Feel your wound. Wrap your heart around it. This is not happening because you are weak, but because you are strong and worthy of the biggest, brightest light in the Universe. Dare you say “Thank you for the lesson.” Now, you may utter those words weeks or years after, but you will.

You have the chance to be reborn.

Choose the light — and as always — shine bright, warrior.

aim + inspire

Time to Travel Light

2014

A few hours late on this, but 2014 has been a year that’s left me scratching my head, my heart bursting with joy, my soul breaking with emptiness, and a fluttering feeling that I have been tip-toeing on the edge of a canyon.

There’s a big part of me that wants to throw a match on last year and walk away with flames in the background. There’s equally a big part of me that looks back on 2014 and doesn’t want to let go. 99% due to the birth of my incredible son, River. Letting go of his baby stage is hard. I love our relationship right now…the snuggles, smiles, incoherent babble, squinty, sparkly eyes that greet me in the morning, and his sweet little old man back of the neck. It’s just so kissable.

Sometimes, OK, a lot of the times, I get really scared of the future. My mind likes to completely screw with me and plays this game of “Well, everything is going so well now…something is bound to change shortly.” It’s like I’m waiting for a bomb to go off. I *know* that life will perpetually have ups and downs, but I have to diffuse this nasty bomb that lives in my head somehow.

No one deserves to live in a place of fear. I think 2014 pulled me directly to the fear and held my entire body to the fire. Like “LOOK AT ME. DO YOU WANT THIS? HUH? DO YOU REALLY WANT TO DO THIS?” It was a frightening place, and one I lived in deeply for months. Now, every day gets easier and the flames retreat, but they sometimes still show up.

I’m just going to say it: I’m kind of scared of 2015 and the lessons it will bring. I just had to say it to get it out, let it go, transmute it into something bigger, better…more positive. But deep down I know it will all be OK.

I also know that when life gives you tough times, months, years, whatever. Eventually we will look back and say “Those were the times that changed me for the better. Look at what I’ve come through.”

So here’s to those who had a tough 2014. Embrace what it was…you’ve done it…you won’t have to do it again.

Let’s look at 2015 as the rainbow after the storm. I’m going to change my perspective, I am not going to live in a place of fear any more…I will talk about how I feel, get it out, hear my emotions, and move into a place of positivity and light.

Cast out your darkness, it’s time to travel light.

Here’s to the next 365. It’s ours for the taking.