After Daniel was born, I began keeping a detailed journal to document his babyhood. Today, I was reading back over some of it and came to this passage, written when he was 4 weeks old: “Today I took Daniel to the doctor. He cried inconsolably for almost eight hours last night.”
Yikes! Those were some trying times. Daniel sure was colicky those first couple months. And to make matters worse, I was struggling with post-partum depression. It took hindsight for me to realize that post-partum depression was what happened to me. You know, things seldom look like how you think they will. I didn’t exactly feel depressed. I felt afraid of some undefined horror. As the sun went down, I could almost feel my body tensing and my mood dipping. I couldn’t sleep…even during those rare times when Daniel was slumbering. I would lie in bed with wide eyes, almost shaking, wanting to crawl out of my skin. In my mind, post-partum depression happened to people who were more emotional…less stable. Not someone like me who was a counseling student and knew all the signs of depression. How ignorant and prideful I can be.
The only things that helped was reading Scripture and having Brian and my mom pray for me. Ugh. I would much rather have gone through labor and delivery again than to suffer through those dark nights of depression. However, about three weeks after Daniel was born, it was like the fog began to lift. In addition, Daniel’s colic eased substantially within the next month. I still remember going to church for the first time after he was born. It was Easter Sunday…Daniel was six weeks old. Brian and I were so apprehensive because Daniel had rarely (if ever) gone an entire waking hour without crying. We sat off to one side of the sanctuary, hoping and praying that Daniel would do alright. The little guy did more than alright. He smiled engagingly at the choir as they walked by him. He seemed to enjoy the singing at the beginning of the service, and then he slept quite contentedly through the sermon. We were so relieved!
I am not sure why I am blogging about all this now. I know that many couples have babies with longer lasting colic than ours. And I know that some women suffer from much worse post-partum depression. But these things seemed very major to us! When I got pregnant, the Lord gave me this passage:
Isaiah 43:1-2
But now, thus says the LORD, who created you, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel:
“ Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name;
You are Mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned,
Nor shall the flame scorch you.
God kept His promise. He always keeps His promises.
I hate snakes. I absolutely detest them. So needless to say, I was not thrilled about this little critter on my porch. Brian was at work, but I called him anyway to voice my displeasure. I didn't think it was poisonous, but I emailed Brian a photo of it, just to be sure. When Brian saw the photo, he said, "Oh, it's a cute little guy." Now, this is where Brian and I have extraordinarily different views. Baby ducks are cute. Puppies are cute. Daniel is cute. But a snake...NO WAY! Brian said it was a harmless corn snake and wanted me to trap it in a jar so that he could "play" with it when he got home. Yeah right. The only interaction that snake and I were going to have was me taking a hoe to its neck. As my dad says, "Get it right behind the ears." :) But, Brian convinced me to leave it be. Of course, when he got home from work, the snake was long gone. However, yesterday it showed back up again and hung around awhile. Much to Brian's delight, it was still there when he got home. He caught it, and we took it to the country to be released. I certainly hope that it doesn't have any brothers or sisters still hanging around my front porch! 
This photo shows how very small it actually was. That makes no difference to me. Little snakes grow up to be big snakes. Yuck, yuck, YUCK!
