Health Anxiety (Hypochondria)

So, I feel like I try really hard to be honest with you guys. (I mean, I told you when I was swearing and screaming at my children, and that's pretty real, right?) But I don't feel like I've been 100% honest about my anxiety.  I will mention it here & there, and I feel like you know I am a worrier, but the truth is that I have severe health anxiety.  I am constantly monitoring my body for symptoms and self diagnosing life threatening diseases.

I don't flippantly think I have cancer, I convince myself that the chills and exhaustion I'm feeling, coupled with my itchiness are from non-hodgkins lymphoma, which I discovered via medical googling.  Most of the time, I am strong enough to combat the desire to medical google.  When I feel like medical googling, I will call my mom instead.  But other times (like last weekend) I medical google until I am lost in cancer forums, convincing myself that my shortness of breath (a sure sign of a panic attack) is from the swollen lymph nodes in my chest, thanks to the rapidly expanding cancer cells that are overtaking my body.

There will be periods of time where I live normally, dismissing everyday aches and pains, and those times are pure bliss.  I find the absence of panic to be so very soothing.  Especially after a bad episode.  But it's always lurking under the surface. 

After dealing with hypochondria (defined as "abnormal anxiety about one's health, especially with an unwarranted fear that one has a serious disease") for the last four years, I have learned a lot about the disorder. For me, a bad health anxiety episode usually follows a traumatic or stressful event.  After moving back to Alaska one summer post-wisdom-tooth-removal, I convinced myself I had C.diff (don't medical google it, just know it's awful); following our move to central Washington last year & the purchasing of our first home, I convinced myself I had breast cancer; and this last bout was preceded by Logan's most recent seizure.  Basically when life gets out of control, my body responds by super-focusing on physical symptoms, which leads to medical googling, self diagnosing and a belief in my imminent demise.

Knowing these are the steps allows me to shorten the length of time a usual episode lasts, which is a huge relief, but I would like to avoid an episode altogether. 

So today I ordered two books that I found on Amazon during a "hypochondria treatment" search.  The first is called Phantom Illness by Carla Cantor, and the second is called Stop Worrying About Your Health by James Umber.  In the past, books have helped me come to better understand depression, panic and OCD. (*afilliate links) So I am hopeful that these new books will help me better understand my issues and will enable me to fight them more successfully.

I don't know if this is true, but I feel like my health anxiety is also related to a sense of guilt I have for being healthy.  I know that so many moms die and leave their children, and between my utter fear of it happening to me, and my overwhelming guilt that it hasn't happened to me, I end up thinking I am going to die after all.

A new connection I learned from this last episode thinking I have lymphoma is that I can't help that other people have bad circumstances, but I can be grateful for my truly good and blessed circumstances.  Gratitude is the difference between living a full life, and living a fearful life. 

This quote from One Thousand Gifts sums up my thoughts perfectly:

"The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest light to all the world." 

-Ann Voskamp

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And then today I happened upon Oprah's Super Soul Conversations on my Apple Podcasts app, and I listened to the one she had with Nate Berkus, who lost his partner in the tsunami in 2004.  The entire discussion (which is only 30 minutes) is full of aha moments, but what stuck out for me were these three (summarized) quotes from Oprah & Nate:

"When the soul gets what it came for, it goes."

Which for me is comfort that I won't go until it's my time to go.

"All death is a reminder to turn up the volume on life."

Which goes hand in hand with what I kind of figured out on Sunday after days of freaking out about my body and death: how do you beat death? You live. Every moment, making it the best you can. 

And finally,

"Why you survived is every little moment stitched together."

There doesn't have to be a BIG reason why I'm living and other moms aren't.  It can simply mean I get to carry on.  I have that privilege.  It can just be the little things, the way I love my family and my friends, that make my life monumental.  (I am doing a terrible job at explaining what those quotes meant, but if you go listen to the podcast, I know you'll walk away enlightened, too!)

So in addition to reading those books, and being brutally honest with Josh about my mental health status, I am going to really focus on gratitude and living this one life I've been given to the fullest. 

Thanks for listening.

Hugs.

5 Year SAHM-iversary!!!

Earlier in the spring, when I had just been released to walk and get a bit of exercise post c-section, I enjoyed taking afternoon strolls with the boys.  As winter receded from the northwest, and spring began to show it's signs, I found myself, on these walks, overcome with gratitude for the ability to be a stay-at-home mom.  To use the afternoon as I saw fit, to walk under blue skies in the middle of the day and to enjoy all the beauty on God's green earth.  It just felt so good.

It seemed fitting that around the time I was overcome with gratitude, I hit my five year anniversary of stay-at-home motherhood, and I honestly can't believe it's been five years.  I still remember with horrible accuracy how it felt to leave my kids and go to work.  I still remember crying both ways (there and back) and wishing so much that God would make a way for me to stay home.

Little did I know what He had in store.  As Josh wraps up our time in rural Alaska, I know that it was not a smooth road (there were some bumps-- anxiety, depression & the miscarriages...), but I also that that was how God made it possible for me to never have to leave the twins again. Or Wyatt ever.  And so it was worth every heartache or struggle.

As we wait to hear what the future holds (and where!) for our family, I am grateful that Josh sees my value in the home and has no desire for me work outside our family.  What a blessing that is to me.

Thirty-Three

 For my birthday this year (since I'm in Washington!) my mom had me over for dinner with my boys & sister.  They all spoiled me with presents.  Make up & maternity tops to be specific, and I couldn't be happier!

 My boys also bought me presents-- 

Mom took them to the Dollar Tree and they got to pick out whatever their little hearts desired.

 Logan got me:
Vanilla Scent trees for the car
A novel about the creator of Girl Scouts
Aqua tank rocks for my rock collection
Super sparkly nail polish
Plus a balloon & a reusable bag

 Jack got me:
A small notebook for my purse
Black pens, cause he knows black's my favorite
A journal
Silver nail polish
A beautiful candy dish
Plus a card & a balloon

Wyatt got me:
A mirror
An eyelash curler (which he told my mom matter of factly was for my eyebrows)
A princess flashlight
Colorful pens
A reusable princess bag

Plus a Minnie Mouse Happy Birthday balloon seen here.

 I was so touched by their thoughtfulness.  

 And how incredibly well they know me.

 I am truly so blessed.

 Time for CAKE!!!

Milo's crazy hair.

Loved it!

It was a super laid back evening, with good food & great company.

My wish was simple:

A healthy arrival for Baby #4

I am so thankful for my family, this pregnancy & for these sweet boys in my life.

Yesterday really was a perfect day.

The only thing missing was my amazing man!

***

For My Birthday

... Two weeks before my 32nd birthday I miscarried the baby I had so desperately wanted.  We spent the summer before that talking in whispers about the fourth baby we were going to try for, and by the time we were back in our village in Alaska, it was time to start trying.  I got pregnant on the first try (as is my luck with each & every pregnancy) and was elated to get that positive pregnancy test.  I flew out (to Anchorage) in October at ten weeks to check on Babyham's progress only to discover he had stopped growing a week earlier.

I arrived home to my husband and our children amidst the insanity of Halloween and just carried myself through each day, feeling hollow and empty.  And like a failure.

Fast forward two months, just past my last birthday, and there again was the positive pregnancy test.  Another trip to Anchorage.  Another routine exam.  And this time, instead of a bad ultrasound, it was a bad blood test.  I was only five weeks along, but the numbers weren't adding up.

A few days after I got home, I lost another baby.

As I struggled to fight (what I now think was) vertigo, depression & anxiety, my hope felt like it had been put on pause.  I knew that I should hope, and that I needed to hope, but it was so very hard to hold on when it felt a bit like catching mist.

Finally in the spring, I decided that any heartache (like that I had endured for both miscarriages) was worth the possible reward of another baby.  I found out the day before we flew home to Washington from Alaska that I was, for the fifth time, pregnant.  (For those who are trying to keep up with the math-- #1: The twin pregnancy #2: Wyatt's pregnancy #3: the first miscarriage #4: the second miscarriage & #5: my current pregnancy)  At the airport I told all our loved ones that we were expecting, not caring that I was only four weeks along.  I decided that this pregnancy was going to be celebrated for however many days it lasted, whether it resulted in a baby in my arms or not.

It took a lot of faith to go for it again.  To trust God, to ignore my anxiety & my worries.  But it has been so worth it.  From first seeing her on the screen at 8 weeks, to hearing her heartbeat at 12; from finding out she was a girl (!!!) to ordering her first baby blanket... It's all felt surreal and beautiful and like a gift from God.

I guess I write all this to say, it's been a hard year.  A roller coaster year.  Loss & joy.  Loneliness & fun.  Heartache & hope.  It's all part of the journey.

For my 33rd year, I am hoping for: a healthy baby to join our family (even one that's "born wrong"-- per Wyatt's prayers --meaning born a boy instead of a girl); our family to be reunited and living together somewhere that is the perfect fit for us; and for me to remember that everyday I'm here on earth is a gift.  Especially if that day is spent with the ones I love.

Confidence

Feeling anxious about hitting publish on this one. 

It's not really tied up with a neat bow, which I hate, 

so taking a cue from C.Jane's book, we'll call this my "First Draft".

There are days when I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing.  I feel like my years of parenting and my parenting confidence have an inverse relationship.  The longer I do this parenting thing, the less confident I feel about how I'm doing it.

In the course of a day I will question: my discipline methods, homeschooling the boys, how much I use social media, what toys we own, how much television we watch, what screen time should look like, the meals I prepare (how nutritious they are), and how to simplify while still making sure the boys' lives are enriched... The list goes on.

And those are my daily concerns.  My long term concerns are far bigger.  Are they kind? Do they empathize? Can they express their feelings properly?  Are they helpful?  Can they complete tasks independently? 

And perhaps most importantly, are they loved?

Do they know it?  Do they feel it?  When they're at their lowest, do they know way deep down that no matter what I love them?

***

 I remember my wedding day very clearly.  I look back at that girl the way you look at your favorite Hollywood starlet.  I gaze unabashedly at her body, taking in all the tight skin, the flat belly under her pure white dress and the million watt smile that knew nothing of the life that was to come.  I want to take her by the shoulders and shake the sparkle from her smile, and tell her to "get real" or "get ready" for all that life is going to throw at her.

I could never have imagined that in five years time we'd be expecting twins.  Or that three years after that, we'd both be college educated, jobless & expecting our third child.  I miss the naïveté of that beautiful girl.  The way she was so sure life was going to be good to her, and that she could, undoubtedly, handle any challenge that came her way.

Since that day twelve years ago, I've been beat up a bit.  But what bothers me the most aren't the bruises or the way my story has been woven (its made me who I am, so I can't help but love it despite it's darker parts).  No... what bothers me is the sunshiny optimism that was swept away with the storms.

***

As we prepared this summer for Josh to leave for Alaska for the school year, I had none of the confidence I should have had about my ability to handle the hard times that were surely coming.  I wondered at my ability to take care of our three boys and grow our fourth.  I wondered how I would manage being both mom and homeschooler.  I wondered how I would balance life in the city with the simplicity I fell in love with while living in rural Alaska.

As the weeks have passed with him gone, instead of feeling more confident about how I'm doing with the responsibility currently on my shoulders, I feel the opposite.  More unsteady, more unsure, more unhinged with every day that passes.

I've been having lower back pain for about two months now.  I imagine it's from picking Wyatt up (I can't help myself. He's still my baby!) and my center of gravity changing with the pregnancy as it's progressed.  This pain lead me to the doctor and then a massage therapist.  When I saw the massage therapist she told me that my ribs are out, in addition to a million other things wrong with my body, and that that happens when your body is curling inward, toward a fetal position. 

Since then I've worked really hard on opening my chest, standing taller and sitting up straighter.  I find that it's really uncomfortable (not physically, but emotionally) for me to do these things.  It's like I don't think I deserve to take up space in this world.  What a terrible, terrible realization.

I wonder, if the table were turned, what that girl in her beaded gown would think as she looked at me a decade into the future.  Would she recognize me?  Would she pity me?  Would she shake her head and ask, "How could it be?"

Maybe, just maybe, she'd hug me and lend me some of her confidence. 

Heaven knows I could use it.

Shelly's All Time Favorite Summer Reads

 So, I'm a reader. If you don't know much else about me, that's a big one.  I love my husband, I have three kids, and I read.  Boom. You now know all the important facts about Shelly Cunningham.

That said, I haven't been able to read since we got back to Washington! I don't know if it's cause we were settling in, or I was choosing bad books... but I haven't been gripped by a book in over a month. And now I am slowly dying. (Okay... that was dramatic... but it's how I feel!)

So to inspire myself to pick up a book again, I have compiled a list of my all time favorite summer time reads.  They are perfect for a day at the beach, reading around a campfire or sitting on a blanket in the grass in the sunshine.

 Barefoot by Elin Hilderbrand

The Island by Elin Hilderbrand

Sea Glass

Fortune's Rocks

Body Surfing

all by Anita Shreve, my all time favorite author

(The next two are YA, but I really enjoyed them!)

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series by Ann Brashares

 The Last Summer (of You & Me) by Ann Brashares

***

And my dream list for the summer, 

aside from re-reading all the classics listed above:

The Rocks by Peter Nichols

The Rumor by Elin Hilderbrand

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(source)

"Be Shelly"

A large part of the happiness project is getting to know yourself.

As part of this, I have done some "self research":

Getting to know who I am, what I like, what inspires me and what I'm passionate about.

Who am I?

an avid reader

bush mama

mom of multiples

receiver of stretch marks

mommy of boys

homeschooler/educator

writer

wife
hard worker

sister
scrapbooker

daughter
homemaker

niece
coffee drinker

granddaughter
beach lover
cousin

friend

I believe in God

I am optimistic, but realistic

I dress casually

I am funny, sweet & thoughtful

I am a reader. I LOVE books.

I am college educated.

I like to camp.

I adore swimming.

I love rocks.

And shells.

I feel good outside. I like to hike.  Nature inspires me.

In another life, I would have been a geologist.

I am organized.

I am competent.

For the month where I focus on "Attitude" as my goal, I will be creating a Positive Self journal, where I can record the positive things about myself that I've accomplished along with simple truths about who I am (ie- I don't like spicy food, I love donuts, I abhor getting my socks wet)...

I have blazed my own trail in life thus far, 

and I am allowed to be proud of that.

What have you done that makes you proud?

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