"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."
-Philippians 4: 6-7
In August of this year I took training to become a birth doula. I think I blogged a bit about this after it happened. The "thing" about having a doula at birth is mothering the mother. Not mother in the literal sense because that can turn people off as some people do not have good relationships with their own mothers. It's more about caring for the mother as needed when she is working hard trying to birth a baby. They don't call it "labor" for nothing.
Consequently, my training has been more aid to me in the recent time of trials I have encountered. How interesting it is that it would work out that way. I think it started a bit over the summer with a little anxiety here and there. As we change seasons my anxiety has snowballed into a huge monster of fear, panic, depression, stress, worry and sometimes physical illness. Often times I feel terribly nauseated. I can type right now knowing that what I am feeling is irrational and ridiculous but none the less my feelings remain. As I fight to stay healthy both mentally and physically I still have to do the daily stuff and take care of my children who depend on me for.... everything.
My children need me but.... it's kind of like when people say "if you are on an airplane and the air masks drop down, put yours on first, then put your child's on." I know that I need to do what I need to do to be healthy for me and everyone. When I feel anxiety, I deep breathe slow and steady as I would have a mother to do in labor. I search for tensed areas (usually my stomach) and consciously relax them. I use heat and cool as necessary. I suck on mints to relieve nausea. I drink hot tea. It is amazing the overlap in comfort measures in what I am experiencing and what I would do for a mother as she labors!
For months it was hard to talk to people about what I have going on because I didn't want people to think I was crazy or to monopolize the conversation with my problems. Now I know that talking about it only helps and grounds me to sanity. It's so hard to explain how I feel in those moments of panic- it's like mental torture. I would hope it's hard for most people to understand.
After experiencing a traumatic move across country at the age of 13 I experienced basically the same type of ailment. Luckily I had my sister on my side. I know she prayed for me in that time and was sensitive to my problem. Ultimately I was healed. I look forward to healing once again.
I look to God for my comfort. I try to explain it to other people and even my husband but many times I get blank stares. God knows all and is in all. His grace is enough and I know I am going to pull out of this and be totally free of it once more.
