Thinking Back

When I was younger, I was the kind of girl who didn't like to hang around with other girls. I was the girl who always wore t-shirts, jeans/shorts, and worn out muddy dirty sneakers. I didn't like long hair, and if I had long hair, I had it up in a ponytail.

I didn't like to hang around with girls because...they were mean, and...they just pissed me off. I selected a few girls I did hang out with, and we pretty much played Pokemon in the field, (with the bees), just to get away from all the mean kids that were at our school.

I'm not going to lie, I was a mean little girl, I did NOT like people who talked bad about me, judged me, or just...tried to take me down. Well...I usually took care of that physically.

When middle school came, I started falling into depression more than when I was in elementary school. I didn't feel welcomed by my guy friends once school started, except one, (Thanks Seb!) and I had to make more girl friends.

Our middle school may claim to be a "NO BULLYING ZONE". But they didn't really do anything when the teachers did see it. A lot of my teachers in my sixth grade year actually made me even more depressed and I skipped school because I didn't feel welcomed by my TEACHERS. But one of the teachers I will never forget is Mrs. Mackenzie. She was great, she got me interested in English, which has not suffered at all from my recent struggles, and I really should call her tomorrow to say thank you to her.

What I'm trying to point out is, even if kids look confident, strong and stubborn in their ways, they might just be doing it so you don't worry, I came out because I couldn't hold it in anymore.

So, please, think before you speak, it might have a larger impact on a child than you will ever know.

Please share with friends and family, and my challenge to you: TALK TO YOUR KIDS OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD OR HOW THEY'RE FEELING AND HAVE AN IN DEPTH CONVERSATION.

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Beginning to Forgive

When I told my grandma on my dad's side that I was pregnant, not even a second after I told her, she had said, "You ruined your life," and still has not apologized about it. Yes, I understand that she's my grandma and I should respect her and shit, but excuse me. I deserve some respect too. So I automatically told her, "I DID NOT ruin my life. I WILL graduate high school. And I WILL keep my baby."

I hardly speak to her now, but last night I spoke to her and attempted to be civil and hold a decent conversation with her. It didn't last long, but at least I didn't wind up yelling at her. I still hold a little bit of anger towards her, but I will try to be better about it in the future.

I have never had a very close tight relationship with my father's side of the family. That's probably because they are all alot older than me, and there is always a lot of fighting. I hide from drama. I don't like it.

My mom's side of the family is the side I love hanging with. I had a very close relationship with my Papa, who died last spring, six weeks after Hazel was born. I found out when I woke up in the morning that he had passed around midnight the night before.

My grandpa was the most accepting person on my mom's side of the family, and I was so happy when they all followed suit.

But near the middle of my pregnancy he was taken to the hospital and was struggling with blood clots and a high white blood cell count.

We had taken sweet little Hazel to see him the day he died, because he was asking for her. That day we had taken a picture of Hazel holding his thumb. He loved her so much, and he had been waiting to see her one last time.

I did not get to the cemetery on time to be there for his burial, and that made me dive deeper into my depression. My family is pulling together now to try to get over the loss of Papa, and we miss him so much. Hazel has taken his seat at the head of the table for Thanksgiving, and she even fell asleep like he used to.

As a family she is making things easier, and now I am willing to go to grief counselling to help me get through this. Its going to be a long road, and my panic attacks are getting better, and even little Maddie got adopted, so that gave me quite a bit of relief.

First Step

I should probably explain why my blog is named “In the Shadows of Daylight”. No one talks about the dark side of being a parent, or the darker side of teen years. I am a teen mom. I got pregnant when I was sixteen by my seventeen year old boyfriend, who ran away from me but later came back. Yes, I’ll get to that later. Yes, we’re still together (not without its challenges, like every relationship). I delivered when I was seventeen. Now at age eighteen, I have post-partum depression. If you don’t know what that is, go look it up in the dictionary, I am not a dictionary.

I kept my beautiful baby girl, who is now ten months old. I used to be fine with touching her when I was breastfeeding and over the summer until school started. I started withdrawing after I got out of the hospital, I’d break down crying when I was away from my baby for longer than an hour. Sometimes I didn’t even make it to half an hour. My wonderful man Jeff (her daddy) tried to take me on a date to Subway and I wound up freaking out in the corner of subway about money and how to take care of our sweetheart.
In the past month, it has done a complete one-eighty. I am afraid of my darling baby girl with huge smiles and hugs for everyone. I cannot touch her without having a panic attack, I want to touch her, but I freak out, I mean, yeah, I love the little sweetie, but hell…I just cannot touch her. I don’t push her away, I just get tense and freak out on Bingo Blitz on Facebook which helps immensely. I have been playing it non-stop for the past two days while trying to figure out how to cope other than bingo.

Sometimes, I can not let my little one go, I’m scared she will run away. (she’s already walking, it’s a legit fear) We already have two kid-gates, and we have them up constantly, the dog now exercises constantly as well between trying to get away from baby and leaping over the gates. I can barely change her diaper, I can’t really give her a bath, and I struggle to feed her (there is NO lack of food for her! Its just me and my battle).
Now, I know what you people are thinking, “That’s what’s wrong with teen parents! Irresponsible! Lazy! Facebook! Abusing their babies!” or something along the lines of “GRAAHHH!!! CPS!!!” (If you don’t know what CPS is…something is wrong with this picture.)

Well I have something to tell you.

Fuck you, old person. I do not abuse my baby. Her dad is the one who takes care of her when I’m having break downs. Don’t like it? Go to a cooking/sewing/house décor/haters of teen parents blog!
My big accomplishment for the day was being able to get my daughter dressed without help, it may sound small…but it was huge, I was so proud of myself. Then she fell and started crying, I freaked out and yelled for Jeff, too scared that I hurt her or that she’ll run from me.

I am not going back to high school this quarter, but I will finish this year, and graduate with my class, it’s going to be a battle, but I will prevail. I want all teen parents to know that its okay to be scared, or be depressed, I’m going through it, but I’m also trying to get better. Somedays I don’t even want to get out of bed because I’m scared of everything. All I wanted to do a while ago, was cuddle with puppies at the humane society, where I found an adorable little one year old griffon puppy named Maddie who had just arrived.

And yes. I asked my parents (begged) and Jeff (he’s a cat person and big dog person) if we could adopt her.

The answer was no. But hey I tried, and I get to volunteer there now and play with the puppies there! One good thing done.

I have never been comfortable around people, I sometimes even freaked on my best friends growing up. But with animals I am fine. This was my therapist’s idea to try to get me to relax since I have always had a knack for writing stories.

No matter what happens to me, I’m going to try to endure for my baby.

Even though I attempted to overdose once, I told my family to lock up all meds in a safe, which might help other people going through depression (ANY FORM OF DEPRESSION!!) and have a family member or trusted person give you what you need to take. You yourself should never have the key, it defeats the purpose.

My name is Kendra, and I am a teen mom, with a strong family and wonderful boyfriend, and beautiful daughter, and this is my blog about being a mom, post-partum depression, and I have no clue what else to put but…I have cookies to eat, and I think I’m good for now.