Motherhood is an experience that is both challenging and rewarding. Despite having many friends who became mothers before me, and despite listening to them tell me about their experiences, there was absolutely nothing that could have prepared me for the reality of motherhood. There were parts that were way more difficult than I anticipated, but there are also parts that are so much better than I could ever have imagined.

Over the past few years, I’ve put on a lot of weight. It actually started with a medication that I had to take for bipolar disorder. One of the side effects was that I put on a few pounds. But it wasn’t until recently, when I got pregnant with my first child, that the weight really started to pile on. During my pregnancy, I was a bit overwhelmed at the rate at which I was gaining weight, and it was hard to prevent it from happening. I was constantly hungry, and as my pregnancy progressed, I replaced going to the gym with more leisurely walks because I was constantly winded and tired from my workouts.

When I was first diagnosed with bipolar, I suffered from a variety of seriously negative thoughts and emotions. From feelings of embarrassment and shame, to feeling abandoned by people I cared about, to feeling confused about my diagnosis, my mind was constantly overwhelmed and bombarded.

As a big fan of personality quizzes, I’ve spent a significant amount of time pondering whether or not I’m introverted or extroverted. There’s something so validating about taking a quiz and receiving a resulting reading that explains you and your behavior. I think it stems from our desire as humans to feel understood (and to understand ourselves).

Recently, my fiancée surprised me with flowers. It was a simple gesture, but it carried a lot of weight for me. As I cut my roses and placed them in a vase, I thought about all the times when I was single that I picked up flowers for myself.

Gratitude. I must admit that this is something that hasn’t always come easily to me. In the past, I was somewhat of a blind optimist, excited for everything in my life. More recently, some of the struggles in my life have gotten to me, and I went through a time where I really had to look harder in order to feel a sense of gratitude for anything that I had.

In times of uncertainty, it’s easy for anxiety levels to rise. I know I’ve felt it – the worry of walking past a stranger on a necessary grocery store trip and wondering if they could have the virus. The obsessive use of hand sanitizer after I touch anything. Walking the other direction at the park after seeing someone cough without covering their mouth. The realization of just how often I touch my face. The tension and boredom of being stuck at home with no place to go.

Last year, I missed my own birthday.

I actually went out to dinner with two close friends for my 31^st birthday. But I wasn’t really there. The reason was because I was experiencing my second manic-psychotic episode during that outing. The chemicals in my brain were roaring in imbalance. I might as well have been on drugs, because I had become an entirely different person.

In a few (since deleted) posts I’ve shared on my blog, I alluded to the fact that the past year and half has been a tough time period for me. I struggled for a while with whether or not I should share what’s been going on, but I feel that not talking about this has created a bit of a writer’s block for me. In the spirit of unblocking myself, here’s the truth of what’s been going on in my life.