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Allie Casazza

Fear After A Miscarriage

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Around this time last year (at the time of writing this post), I miscarried a baby, whom we named Clementine June. It was a very long, drawn out miscarriage. I found out the baby didn’t appear to be growing properly, had to wait two grueling weeks to go back in and get checked, then found out I had for sure miscarried. We waited two more weeks for the miscarriage to happen on its own, then went in to get medicinal aid in starting the miscarriage process. I remember coming home with the bag of suppositories that would tell my body to expel my child, and weeping at the thought. My heart ached like it never has before; it was broken.

Hours after inserting the tablets, it all began, which broke my heart even further. The cramps were like labor contractions, the intense bleeding shocked and scared me. I remember not knowing what to do with what was in the toilet. If I flushed, I felt like I was throwing my baby away. Having been affected by someone’s choice to abort their baby in the past, I felt hypocritical and torn. I wanted this baby… how could I just flush her away? My husband held me and helped me cope. He made a Clementine box and saved photos and tiny things that would remind us of our short time with her inside me. Naming that baby helped with closure tremendously. After it was over, God met with me and healed me, a little bit every day. He replaced sorrow with joy, and confusion with peace. I felt so healed and so blessed! People would ask me about it and I was able to respond without anger or tears or resentment.

The months rolled by and the time finally came where Brian and I talked about trying for our next baby. I took longer to be ready, but I finally got there, and became pregnant. I am not going to lie to you or sugar coat this (have I ever??)- I struggled with a lot of fear. It would grip me in the middle of the night, grab hold of my thoughts while I was driving, and send flashes of miscarriage memories throughout the day. I would be changing Hudson’s diaper and thinking about going to the gym when all of a sudden I would see myself on the bathroom floor sobbing in blood. The fear was violent, out of control, and intense.

Satan loves to use fear.

Death began to follow and taunt me. A dead animal torn open violently by its prey in front of my house, realistic nightmares of my children dying, violent murders, and tortuous kidnappings came to me nearly every night. After praying and asking God to deliver me from this, He showed me that He had a protective hand on this baby, and that Satan was attacking me instead. And friends, that pissed me off. 

I came at Satan in the name of Jesus Christ whose blood was shed out of love for me and my family. I rebuked him from me, my husband and children, our home, my mind, my sleep… everywhere the Spirit led me to pray. Fear after a miscarriage is natural, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give it to Jesus and allow Him to replace it with peace- that’s what He wants to do! Anxiety and torment is an attack. It is Satan getting into your business and messing with you. How dare he?! Fight back. Do not let him have any part of your life, or take away your hope and joy and peace in a pregnancy.

My next baby appointment came, and it was the final week of the “common miscarriage phase” of pregnancy. My stomach tightened a little when they called my name to go inside, but I felt peace rinse my spirit like cool water. The doctor placed the Doppler machine over my belly, then pulled it away and spoke just what I needed to hear. “You’ve had a miscarriage before. You need to see your baby.” She left and came back with a tiny ultrasound machine, placed the probe on my belly, and there my baby was- heart beating, legs wiggling, thumb in the mouth, little body twisting and turning with joy.

 Thank you, Father. You are good. 

I could lose any of my babies at any time. I could still have a miscarriage, I could have a still birth, one of my live and healthy children could die today. I do not believe that God takes away the possibility of death or loss. I believe a huge part of faith in Him is just that- having faith, no matter what happens. Faith in His existence, faith in His goodness, faith in His faithfulness, and faith in His mighty power over the enemy. Death and loss is only a blow, not defeat. We already know what happens in the end. Choose joy, take peace.

The battle belongs to the Lord. 

Being A Gracious Wife When You’re Hurting

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This post is honest and raw, and a picture of just a piece of marriage. My husband is, in my honest opinion, the very best there is. He is loyal, kind, giving, he cleans without me asking for help, he kisses my forehead, he is Prince Charming to our little girl, he is constantly putting himself last and seeking to give me happiness. He completely adores me and our children. But every marriage comes with hurts, disappointments, and mistakes. Even the tiny ones can cut deeper than expected and truly leave an ache. Let there be no mistaking my husband for anything other than the godly man that he is while reading this post about the realness of being married to a human being and being met with disappointments. 

He had hurt me, again. The fairy tale marriage just wasn’t happening, and even though I had heard it was all a myth, I must have had hidden expectations that it could be real, because the ache in my chest was nearly unbearable. I played the scene over in my head one more time- the truth, the tears, the anger to hide them from him, the yelling, and aching, the running from the conversation. Locked in our bedroom where we get ready for church together each Sunday, cuddle in the sweetness of sleep, talk about having more babies, and act out a love so deep and pure it has made me cry, I am angry and bitter. How could I go from all that to this in the very same room?

Marriage. 

I know I have allowed my flesh to react in this situation, and as the anger begins to cool, I know I have to face my actions as well as his tonight. The thought of that makes me sick, and so I pray. Why is it that I pray after I’ve already taken the reigns and ruined a night that could have been an opportunity for growth, healing, and grace? I always pray just a little too late, and I hate that about myself. Regardless of my human timing, I come to the Lord and ask Him to just speak to me, because I don’t know what to say. As the Holy Spirit enters the room, I am drawn to confession- my thoughts, my words, my actions. I caused him hurt because that’s what he gave me. God gently places the hard question in my thoughts,

If you were given everything you gave, what would you receive?

This makes me uncomfortable and I squirm, nearly getting up to just get this over with and talk to Brian before I’m ready. I quiet myself again and listen.

You came to me last week and asked for help in being Christ to him. 

I imagine what Jesus’ reaction would have looked like in my situation, and flinch when I think about mine one more time.

Ouch.

Flesh takes over so suddenly. It’s the very first reaction and requires no thought to come into play. Faith and being Jesus to somebody (especially your husband) requires not only thought, but deciding to do so before he offends you. It requires walking with Jesus every step of each day, and keeping grace at the forefront of your heart and mind.

To be your first action, grace must be ahead of your flesh. 

Sitting on our marriage bed, I think about what I did in my reaction to the hurt, and I begin to pray against those fleshly thoughts and words, and replacing them with the truth of God’s Word and His love for my husband.

You will pay for this mistake.

I am choosing to work through forgiveness for the sake of God’s will and this marriage. 

I am so angry at you, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you.

I am angry right now, but I promised to work on this relationship, so I’m going to calm down and take my heart to God. 

Being Jesus is unnatural to us, but that’s the point. If it were easy, we would have no need for a Savior, and every marriage would bring glory to God. To stand out, to bring glory, to be different, to not be the half of marriages that end in divorce or the other percentage that are married but unhappy, takes work. It takes a lot of sweat, dedication, keeping promises when he doesn’t, focusing on Jesus and what He would have you do rather than on what your husband deserves.

You reap what you sow. Sow forgiveness, grace, and dedication and you will reap it in return. You have God’s word.

Depression + Redemption {the story of bella & i}

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Pin this and help other mamas find encouragement. 
Pin this and help other mamas find encouragement. 

I’ve shared a lot with you about my experience with post-partum depression (PPD). But today, I want to bust open this little-discussed issue and share it all.

My depression came after my first child, my daughter was born. It actually started to seep in at the very end of my pregnancy, then spiraled out of control a couple of months after her arrival. I’ve said before that it was such a dark time, my memory has literally been almost completely erased. I can’t picture my baby’s face, I don’t remember her first anything. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally there for it. I wasn’t even physically there for some of it. I did not get out of bed except when forced for several months, and my personality had seemingly left me.

Of course, that special time of bonding and connecting with my baby was lost. I did not have a natural motherly response when she cried, I had a lot of trouble breastfeeding her and I really didn’t care, so I let her go to formula pretty quickly, I had feelings of jealousy toward her when my husband would care for her while I felt that I myself was suffering. You may have a wall up right now. You may judge and ridicule me or blame some big sin I must’ve committed to bring this on. That’s okay. If you haven’t been there, you simply will not understand that none of this was coming from me or my heart; it was all coming from the depression. It was unnatural, not my personality, and not at all how I had dreamed things would be after the birth of my child. This caused my depression and hopelessness to worsen.

Looking back through the eyes of prayer, knowledge, research, and healing, I know now that I was suffering from a chemical imbalance. I will never argue about whether or not the depression I suffered could have been “gotten over”. I was there, and I know what it felt like to be taken over by my own mind, and I have also experienced the type of depression that I can pull myself out of. This was different. This was no choice. I wanted to enjoy my new motherhood. I wanted  to nurse and cuddle and love my baby. I wanted a connection with her. But there wasn’t any of that, because I was sick. Just as you wouldn’t deny yourself medicine for diabetes, I shouldn’t have denied myself medicine for this mental illness. I shamed myself for even picking up that prescription. I refused to take it because of the judgement from others that would follow that decision. My grandmother had overdosed on prescription drugs her whole life, and I wasn’t going to fall into that trap.

This decision cost me months of hopelessness and illness. 

It also cost me bonding time with my daughter, and years of trying to force it to happen. 

Once I came out of the darkest time, I thought everything would get back to normal and I could finally enjoy motherhood and fall into the perfect life I always wanted. We had wanted to have our children very close together, even closer than they ended up, but didn’t because of the depression. When my daughter was fifteen months old and I had been better for a couple months, we tried for a second baby and I got pregnant. I quickly realized though, that things in my motherhood couldn’t just “go back to normal” because there had never been a normal. I had been depressed since before Bella was even born, and only gotten worse since then. I realized I had absolutely no connection to her and didn’t feel things my friends felt about their children. I even noticed that I felt a stronger connection to the tiny baby in my belly than I did my one-and-a-half-year-old, flesh and blood child.

The depression had stolen something from me, and I hadn’t known until now because I hadn’t had anything to compare my relationship with Bella to.

Something was missing. 

I started going to a moms group through my church, where I met a mentor and friend who taught me how to pray in the Spirit- something I hadn’t really applied to my life before. I began using this lesson in prayer toward my relationship with Bella. The Lord moved and showed me where healing needed to take place. Things got better, but our relationship felt forced to me. I spent two years in despair and denial, thinking that I had missed my chance at a normal, healthy relationship with my baby girl.

Today, my daughter is four-and-a-half and we have a good relationship. She talks to me about her day and her thoughts, feels close to me, and I feel close to her. I no longer feel a wedge between us. God is good, and He heals.

There are some things I did to help myself through this issue that I want to share today for anyone who has suffered PPD or simply feels that they need a stronger connection to one or more of their children.

First, I took control of my thoughts. Basing my decisions on the Bible gave me power over the enemy’s hold on my mind and my relationship with my daughter. When I would think something like. why does she have to be like that? Why can’t she just be normal?

I would take it into captivity as soon as I realized what was happening. I would mentally say NO to that thought and throw it away. I would replace it with a verbal uplifting comment like, “Wow sweetie, you are really good at acting like a dog! You look just like Mimi’s puppy!” Doing this was the most powerful action in changing my damaged heart toward my little girl.

Your emotions always follow your thoughts.

Another thing I did was to physically touch her more often. Touch is not my love language, in fact it irritates me sometimes, so this was tough and had to come out of selflessness and a desire to bring change. When watching a movie, I would invite Bella into my lap. When sitting down for dinner I would invite her to sit in the chair closest to me. When walking to the mailbox I would take her hand in mine. When standing in line at the grocery store I would rub her back. I still do these things, but they’re more natural to me now. This made her see that I was being different and opening up to her. It made her drawn to me and brought closeness.

The third most powerful thing I did was prayer. I prayed over our relationship, I prayed for her, I prayed against future depression, I prayed with her. Just lots and lots of prayer covering me, her, our lives, and our family. God works on our hearts through prayer!

If you have suffered severe PPD and feel a disconnect between you and your child, please know first and foremost that it is normal.

I won’t get into detail here about the medicine debate, but please feel welcome to message me on Facebook if you have any questions or thoughts or concerns about yourself. PPD is very real and very crippling. Don’t keep yourself isolated. I am reaching out to you, take the chance to have a friend in this. I also want to clarify that this deep depression I suffered from was not completely gone until I gave birth to my second baby and felt it coming on strong again, and decided to take anti-depressants. After nine months of medication, I weaned off and never went back. I believe in the power of God and the power of prayer, but sometimes, for reasons I won’t know until I see Him face-to-face, He brings a different way. Sometimes depression means your mind is sick, and can be helped by saying yes to help and medication. Don’t lose years just to make a point.

For the Wife Whose Husband Works Long Hours: How To Thrive and Not Just Survive At Home

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When Brian was signed on at his previous job, we were told the hours were 8AM-4:30PM. Once he started working, we quickly realized {through lots of arguments and cancelled plans} that overtime was just a part of his job. We made the decision that as long as his job could support our family, it was better for him to be at work for long periods of time so that I could stay home with our babies, than it was for us both to be gone from 8-5 every day. 

The hard truth was that moping and complaining about it or trying to change things out of anger wouldn’t do anything good. It did a lot more good when I chose joy in my life, and no good at all when I gave in to my flesh by griping and allowing depression in.

I continually reminded myself of these truths:

  • It pleases God when I choose to praise when circumstances do not make it easy.

  • It pleases my husband when I choose joy and am happy with him and his job.

  • It pleases God when I please my husband.

So how do you handle life with small children and being a stay-at-home mom with a husband who is mostly gone? Here are my key choices that make a big difference. 

Your husband’s days off call for some major family time! 

Turn off the world and tune into what our purpose is- family. Depending on what you’re feeling is best for your family that day, you can either hang out at home or spend the entire day out, bypassing naps and soaking up every hour. Involve the kids in everything, even if it takes a little longer to move through the day.

Take advantage of technology when your husband is working.

If possible, make it a point to let the kids FaceTime with their daddy a couple work days per week. Be careful not to tell the kids about it until it is actually happening, just in case it doesn’t work out. It is also a great idea to send him tons of pictures and videos of whatever we are doing that day. That way he is brought a little joy in his day and feels like he missed less special moments.

Let go of expectations. 

I have to let go of all my expectations about when he will be home, if he could maybe get home early and help me with the bedtime routine, if we could maybe make it to a social event we were invited to, etc. When I hold onto these expectations {because sometimes, they do happen} I am always completely let down if it doesn’t end up happening how I wanted. Then I’m in a terrible mood and can’t love on and serve my hard-working hubby when he gets home. 

Try to go out for coffee with a friend once a week, every week, no matter what.

You have to take care of yourself, and you have to make sure your well is full so that you can continuously and constantly pour into your family. Get out of the house, sip a delicious cup of coffee that you didn’t have to make, and talk to another adult. Perfection! 

 

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Plan a monthly date night out, and some date nights in, on the weeks in between. 

It is extra important for a couple with crazy schedules to have alone time! Go out to one of your favorite restaurants and enjoy the benefits of your husband’s working so much with a delicious meal that you didn’t have to cook. Sit close to one another, hold hands, touch, kiss, and act like a dating couple. When you stay in, cozy up on the couch and act the same way together. As long as you are without kids and enjoying one another’s company, the goal is met, and the marriage is strengthened. 

Plan for the occasional nap during the week. 

Try to let go of the chores and lay down on your couch a couple times a week during the kids’ naps. It is so refreshing and will really help you get through that second half of the day.

Have a routine to use as a guideline. 

Create a list of daily and weekly must do’s- the things that keep your family functioning smoothly. When you don’t have your hubby home to wrestle with the kids while you catch up, a routine is a lifesaver!

Don’t let the work schedule become a “pause” button for your family. 

Take the kids to do fun things by yourself; don’t wait for hubby’s day off. Know that you will do something else fun on his day off, but his schedule can not have you waiting around at home constantly. I know my limits and where I can and can’t handle them on my own, and I live my life as their mom.

Try to keep yourself busy.

Whether that means making an effort to get out of the house at least once a day, or just being productive at home, it’s important to have some form of motivation to get going. Stay busy and don’t let yourself just hang around getting depressive about your husband’s schedule. 

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