Savoring Jesus from the Valley of Perinatal Depression and Anxiety

I’ve never had a postpartum experience worse than pregnancy. Even with all the raw, humiliating parts of those early weeks. Even in light of tongue tie revisions, latching struggles, and the fact I’ve had multiple recurrent strep throat infections only 6 weeks out.

My pregnancies are way harder than all of this. Perinatal anxiety and depression hover like a thick cloud of darkness over my mind. Debilitating fatigue leaves my house in disarray. My parenting ideals of lower screen time and spending time outdoors fly out the window.

All three of my pregnancies have pushed me to the limits mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. The spiritual aspect is the hardest. I don’t know why, but it feels as if Holy Spirit abandons me for most of the 9 months. Instead, I am overtaken with works of the flesh: despair, wrath, impatience, sloth, lust, etc.

Perhaps it’s because when my health is compromised, my walls are down and spiritual defenses retreat. Perhaps it’s because the enemy is never so interested in my demise as when it comes to the growth of my marriage and family.

A shell of myself, you can imagine how utterly useless I feel. I falter and fumble through the gestation period, still praying and weakly believing, clinging to the promise of His power made perfect in my weakness. Because it certainly doesn’t *feel* like I’m held in the palm of His hands, but rather cast off. It doesn’t *feel* like I could possibly be legally justified righteous in His sight when like a dog I return to the vomit of my sin.

And yet, my standing before the Righteous Judge was never dependent on me, but the finished work of my beloved Jesus. The wages of sin is death, but He paid my debt. The truth is my Father loves and upholds me even when I have nothing to offer.

I find the depth of my adoration for God correlates to the depth of my trials, and the light of the gospel shines most brilliantly against the backdrop of the darkest valleys.

So if nothing else than for savoring more acutely the good news of Jesus come to rescue sinners like me, this difficult pregnancy was a thousand times worth it. But that wasn’t the only fruit - I am also blessed with the existence and arrival of my son Shilo whose name and safe entry into this world are testimonies in and of themselves. Follow along if you would like to read those stories.

“And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me (2 Corinthians‬ ‭12‬:‭9‬ ‭NASB1995‬‬).”