Last year, I hit a rock.

I almost landed in hospital for it.

My husband took time off work, my family dropped everything to help us with the kids and I went on a long three month journey of unravelling some core beliefs I had about myself.

It’s a very sobering experience when your seven year old daughter finds you on the shower floor in a pool of water belonging to the shower and your own tears.

It’s even more humbling when you can barely answer her gentle question, ‘Mama, are you okay?’

I was not okay.

I felt paralysed; unable to do anything or say anything.

Let’s backtrack.

Seven months prior, I gave birth to our fourth baby.

Three weeks later, my parents packed up and moved overseas to be with my sister and her family who were living in the UK indefinitely.

And then a month later, we begun our homeschool year, where I was now teaching not one but two children and somehow juggling my newborn and energetic toddler in the midst.

As many mothers can attest, we all keep moving along without much thought for our own wellbeing.

I was in a state of survival.

Wake up.

Feed the baby.

Feed the older kids.

Put on a load of laundry.

Fit in homeschool work.

Put baby to sleep.

Feed older kids lunch.

Put toddler to sleep.

Finish homeschool work.

And somehow feed myself and shower in between.

I don’t know why I didn’t see the signs, but somewhere along the way, I was burning out. It seemed that everyone else besides me could see it unfolding.

I was applying band-aids and not actually fixing the root cause of my burnout.

“Babe, why don’t you go out tonight and spend time doing something for yourself?” My husband would often thoughtfully request.

I would listen, but I would take that time to work on my blog or think about tomorrow’s to-do list.

There would be no proper, regular rest.

And then, all hell broke loose one night in August.

I was putting my inconsolable seven month old down to sleep, when I had some intrusive thoughts.

My two older kids were watching TV, so I was glad that they couldn’t hear when after putting my baby down into his cot, I walked across to my room, shut the door and screamed into my pillow.

I had felt numb that day. Numb to any sort of emotion. And that to me, was odd.

It wasn’t until the pillow screaming incident that I knew I needed help.

I immediately phoned my husband who was out picking up our toddler from his grandparents’ house, demanding that he come home before I do something stupid.

After that moment, the floodgates burst open and I could feel emotion again.

Anger. Rage. Sadness. Grief.

I had been unknowingly bottling it up for so long.

And it would take another two weeks before I came face-to-face with the dark place I found myself in.

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If you have read this far, well done.

I want to share with you that thankfully I got to the other side.

I am a devoted believer in Jesus and know without a shadow of a doubt that He set me free from that dark place.

But I want to share some practical things that helped me get out of that dark place. I must give credit to my husband who helped with these strategies a whole lot.

I share the strategies I used to deal with the burn out that you can read about here.​

If you are a mother on the brink of burn out, know that you aren't alone and that it is important to get help, for the sake of yourself and your family.

Check out my Nutrition Resources

​Your Holistic Guide to Pregnancy Nutrition​

​Nutrition For Postpartum Playbook​

Starting Solids Guide

​Live In Rhythm With Your Hormones Guide​

All my love,

Jess x