I am so tired of unloading my dishwasher. I hate it so much. I feel like my head is always inside that motherfucker. Along with sweeping, vacuuming, wiping counters and picking up toys. These are the things that fill my days and I am growing very tired of it.
Ruby will NOT poop on the potty. No matter what I do. No matter what I try. She asks for a diaper every time she has to go.
I hate my new haircut.
When I did my taxes I was getting $575 back. I already owed $300 from a mistake made last year. I have been waiting for the difference for 3 weeks now. I need money so bad. I just discovered that my taxes were "reassessed" and I now owe a total of $635.
Every penny I get goes to bills and food. When Steve adds extra cheese to his veggies I want to scream. And when Ruby says she wants applesauce and then when I open it she won't eat it because she says it's "dirty" I want to cry.
I bought Nabob coffee because it was on sale and I hate the taste of it. I haven't had a cup of coffee in the morning for over a week.
I bought my mom some nice birthday presents and called her on her birthday but she didn't have a nice day anyways, I guess because my dad is sick and he didn't do anything nice for her. I feel responsible, like I should have done more because I knew he'd fuck it up.
My bathroom is filthy.
I bought cheap shampoo and now my head is itchy and my hair is dry and frazzled.
My bank account is wayyyyyy too far into the red. It makes me feel sick. I can't even afford to buy myself a cup of coffee.
I feel like I'm failing at everything right now. Every single thing.
I'm depressed and I just want to be alone, but my kids hang off me and won't leave me alone for a second to release my tears in peace.
Showing posts with label Mental Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mental Health. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Slump
Been feeling a bit tired and blue lately and can't quite put my finger on exactly what it is. I guess it's probably a combo of a few different things.
My birthday is this Saturday. My Mom's birthday is on Monday. My Dad's 60th birthday is the following Saturday. And then Mother's Day is that Sunday. Busy time. And expensive. And I'm broke. And not a lot of time to shop.
Want to hear my selfishness? I just want to enjoy my birthday and not have to worry about planning and shopping for everyone else. I feel terrible for feeling that way. It's just that I haven't had a decent birthday in quite a few years. Last year I was hugely and most uncomfortably pregnant. The year before that I had a 4 month old baby. The previous year I was disgustingly nauseous and pregnant. And the year before that I was in a severe depression after my first failed IVF. Not to mention this past year has been a really rough one. I just want to be a princess this year but there are other people to think about and consider. I'm tired and overworked and worn out and I just want to be selfish and only think about myself.
Otherwise I'm getting tired of being stuck in my house every day. I usually don't have a vehicle and my getting out depends on the weather - which has really sucked for a really long time. Lots of rain and cold air. Hard to take the kids out in the stroller in those conditions.
Happy note - I've lost 20lbs on Weight Watchers. Still lots to go though and sometimes I just want to eat and not worry about trying to be healthy. Also, since dropping some weight my clothes don't fit. I have nothing but oversized sweat pants to wear which is normally ok since I don't get out much. But on the odd occasion that I do go out, I have nothing to wear and feel frumpy and not overly attractive. No extra cash in my pocket to get new clothes, and scared to buy anything because I plan on losing more weight. What to do. I just want to feel good about myself.
Worried about Lincoln. He's really into making strange with people who aren't me or Steve. It is difficult and annoying and frustrating and also quite embarrassing. He screams bloody murder if I leave the room and he is with someone else. He will not calm down and his freakout escalates until I return. I don't know how to fix this and I am worried about what hell we are going to go through when I go back to work in June. This one keeps me up at night. Suggestions?
I suppose these are the trials and tribulations of being a mom of a 10month old and a 28 month old. Nobody said it would be easy, I know that. Just in a bit of a slump and trying to work it out so we can all be happy.
PS: On a really positive note, Steve and I are doing much better. He has changed so much in the past few weeks and I'm so thankful and happy for it.
My birthday is this Saturday. My Mom's birthday is on Monday. My Dad's 60th birthday is the following Saturday. And then Mother's Day is that Sunday. Busy time. And expensive. And I'm broke. And not a lot of time to shop.
Want to hear my selfishness? I just want to enjoy my birthday and not have to worry about planning and shopping for everyone else. I feel terrible for feeling that way. It's just that I haven't had a decent birthday in quite a few years. Last year I was hugely and most uncomfortably pregnant. The year before that I had a 4 month old baby. The previous year I was disgustingly nauseous and pregnant. And the year before that I was in a severe depression after my first failed IVF. Not to mention this past year has been a really rough one. I just want to be a princess this year but there are other people to think about and consider. I'm tired and overworked and worn out and I just want to be selfish and only think about myself.
Otherwise I'm getting tired of being stuck in my house every day. I usually don't have a vehicle and my getting out depends on the weather - which has really sucked for a really long time. Lots of rain and cold air. Hard to take the kids out in the stroller in those conditions.
Happy note - I've lost 20lbs on Weight Watchers. Still lots to go though and sometimes I just want to eat and not worry about trying to be healthy. Also, since dropping some weight my clothes don't fit. I have nothing but oversized sweat pants to wear which is normally ok since I don't get out much. But on the odd occasion that I do go out, I have nothing to wear and feel frumpy and not overly attractive. No extra cash in my pocket to get new clothes, and scared to buy anything because I plan on losing more weight. What to do. I just want to feel good about myself.
Worried about Lincoln. He's really into making strange with people who aren't me or Steve. It is difficult and annoying and frustrating and also quite embarrassing. He screams bloody murder if I leave the room and he is with someone else. He will not calm down and his freakout escalates until I return. I don't know how to fix this and I am worried about what hell we are going to go through when I go back to work in June. This one keeps me up at night. Suggestions?
I suppose these are the trials and tribulations of being a mom of a 10month old and a 28 month old. Nobody said it would be easy, I know that. Just in a bit of a slump and trying to work it out so we can all be happy.
PS: On a really positive note, Steve and I are doing much better. He has changed so much in the past few weeks and I'm so thankful and happy for it.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Dreams, letting go, trying harder
I had a very symbolic dream last night. Amazing, really.
Steve and I were walking down a hallway. We were tired and holding on to each other for support. I felt love for him and coming from him.
A person from my past walked up behind us in the hall. This person is someone that Steve and I almost allowed to come between us in the past. Someone who caused us trouble and pain. I have held on to regret and guilt about the role I allowed this person played in our lives for a a long time.
In my dream this person walked past us. Ahead of us. Looked back at us. And then walked out a door into darkness. Gone.
Steve and I kept walking, leaning on each other. Arms draped over each other. Feeling worn out like we'd been through something physically and emotionally exhausting. A bit damaged. But together. Supporting each other.
It was a good dream. It felt right.
~~~~
My SIL phoned the other night crying. Furious again with Steve. Her relationship with my BIL is over. She has to be out of their house by Friday. She's looking for an apartment to rent. I felt horrible about it. Can't help but feel somewhat responsible. It was an email exchange with ME and my HUSBAND sent it to her spouse. I had a heavy weight on my chest.
But I'm letting that go. This may have been the straw the broke the camels back for them but the camel was on his knees. I am not responsible for their demise or her pain. I am stepping back from both of them. Whatever happens is up to them. I have so much struggle in my world right now, I can't take on their troubles. And what good would it do anyways? I would just be making myself an easy target for blame or resentment - because that would be the easiest way to deal with their problems, blaming someone else.
~~~~
The past few days have been better for Steve and I. He seems to be trying to be happier and kinder towards me. In turn I am trying to be less resentful and bitter and not so much of a bitch. I know I can be a bitch and I know it doesn't help things. We have been trying to talk in a civil and kind manner but that fact that there is talking at all is a good thing.
Steve and I were walking down a hallway. We were tired and holding on to each other for support. I felt love for him and coming from him.
A person from my past walked up behind us in the hall. This person is someone that Steve and I almost allowed to come between us in the past. Someone who caused us trouble and pain. I have held on to regret and guilt about the role I allowed this person played in our lives for a a long time.
In my dream this person walked past us. Ahead of us. Looked back at us. And then walked out a door into darkness. Gone.
Steve and I kept walking, leaning on each other. Arms draped over each other. Feeling worn out like we'd been through something physically and emotionally exhausting. A bit damaged. But together. Supporting each other.
It was a good dream. It felt right.
~~~~
My SIL phoned the other night crying. Furious again with Steve. Her relationship with my BIL is over. She has to be out of their house by Friday. She's looking for an apartment to rent. I felt horrible about it. Can't help but feel somewhat responsible. It was an email exchange with ME and my HUSBAND sent it to her spouse. I had a heavy weight on my chest.
But I'm letting that go. This may have been the straw the broke the camels back for them but the camel was on his knees. I am not responsible for their demise or her pain. I am stepping back from both of them. Whatever happens is up to them. I have so much struggle in my world right now, I can't take on their troubles. And what good would it do anyways? I would just be making myself an easy target for blame or resentment - because that would be the easiest way to deal with their problems, blaming someone else.
~~~~
The past few days have been better for Steve and I. He seems to be trying to be happier and kinder towards me. In turn I am trying to be less resentful and bitter and not so much of a bitch. I know I can be a bitch and I know it doesn't help things. We have been trying to talk in a civil and kind manner but that fact that there is talking at all is a good thing.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
On the Rocks
How I wish I was talking about cocktails...
My last post is almost embarrassing considering how far I've gone from any positive feeling in my core in a very short time.
Having two young babies so close together is very hard on a marriage. Having your husband's father die is also very hard on a marriage.
We've been distant. Bitter. Sad. Angry. Distraught. Frustrated.
Or at least I have been. I am only guessing that Steve has been too. I wouldn't be able to say for sure because he does NOT talk about things. Not about anything. It's hard for me. Particularly hard since I am in my house with two kids 2 and under for most of the day. My only means for transportation is usually a stroller. When it rains - which it does a lot here on the West Coast in winter/spring - I am literally trapped here inside my four walls.
I get lonely. I crave support, love, discussions, kind words, emotional progress. But when Steve gets home from work he's not able to provide much of any of those things.
I have felt that he's been harboring resentful or angry feelings towards me. There has not been a kind word offered. There is no touching. No kiss on the cheek. No hugs. Communication only when absolutely required. And even then, it's been cold.
I have been figuratively banging my head against the wall. Not sure what to do. I've tried everything to get him to give it up. Talk. Tell me what I've done wrong. Tell me what's bugging him. He was maintaining that everything is "fine". When asked if he'd go to marriage counseling his response was "absolutely not" - even though he has been seeing a grief counselor to process his dad's death.
Hopefully I'm not sounding too martyr-ish when I say I have given my everything, my all, all my energy and then some, all my emotions, all my goodness - my EVERYTHING to try to be supportive to him and his family, to be a good mother, to be a kind and loving wife - during a really bad time.
However I've been feeling like, to him, I am not worth an effort on his part. I have felt taken for granted.
The other day an email exchange started between myself and my BIL's girlfriend (SIL) as we planned out our MIL's birthday dinner that was to take place this Saturday. Well, as we started going back and forth with our emails, things started to come out. We started talking about the things that have been bothering us. Things that MIL has been doing that have been making our lives very difficult. How our spouses are completely absorbed by her and her grief and how they dote on her and her occasional dramarama. My BIL is the executor to the will and he had told SIL about some financial issues which she was supposed to keep silent about. She confided in me in those emails. Honestly it felt good to have someone to talk to. Someone who understands what I'm going through, who is going through something very similar to me and who knows all the players in the game. Someone to relate to. Someone who was willing to offer a sympathetic ear.
Sometime in the afternoon my phone rang. It was SIL. She said, "Steve's been reading your emails".
In typical Steve fashion - instead of calling me and discussing it, he called his brother. Told him what we were talking about, essentially ruining two relationships instead of just one.
Steve feels that SIL and I are vindictive, evil women who hate his mother.
I have explained that I do not hate his mom. Not even close. In fact I don't like some of the things she does. And I said nothing in my emails that I haven't already said to him.
He told me he's been watching me for a while. Reading my emails and my tweets. He says he knows I talk about him "behind his back". He told me he didn't love me anymore and has been thinking of leaving me for a while.
I explained that what I occasionally say about him on twitter is my way of communicating - in a joking fashion - to like minded friends who can relate to me. Everything I tweet is out in the open and I would never say anything malicious abut him. But he felt otherwise.
Likewise with my email exchange with my SIL.
Besides having to explain and defend myself, I am furious and upset and devastated that my husband has betrayed me and violated my personal life. My personal conversations. My privacy. I am broken hearted that we are in that place.
Obviously there was a lot more detail than this but I care not to get into it.
My BIL and SIL are pretty much done. This was the straw the broke the camels back for them. Why Steve had to involve my BIL I don't know but it was a bad move. My SIL is/was really, really mad at Steve. He apologized to her and she did not accept his apology - which made things worse for me because I know it bothered him but... of course... he wouldn't talk about it. And also, she is my friend and I feel somewhat responsible for what's happening to her on her end of this mess.
To make a really long story a little less long - I had a really big breakdown. Reiterating all the stuff I've been saying to him over the past few months.
He told me he'd make an effort to be a better husband. That he was going to make big changes.
The next day he got off work early. I had errands to run (since I offered to take a birthday lunch/cake to MIL the next day since her dinner at BIL and SIL's was cancelled) I managed to talk to SIL and we decided to meet for a beer with another girlfriend. Steve said it was no problem. I brought him a 6 pack of beer before I met the girls and told him I'd bring dinner home. I was out for a couple of hours. I sent him a text asking if he was doing ok with the the kids. He didn't respond. I called him. He didn't answer the phone.
When I was on my way home he finally answered. He was short with me. I asked what he would like for dinner and he said he already ate - even though it was just dinner time.
When I got home he was back in that bitter, quiet mode. He'd obviously had a hard time with the kids. I know he was frustrated. *I* know what that is like - it is my daily life. He was in a bad mood and quickly so was I. We started to argue again. It escalated. Really escalated. It got ugly. I pushed him to the limit. I knew I was doing it but couldn't stop myself. I wanted him to react to me in some way. I couldn't take the passive aggressiveness anymore. I was so desperate I was willing to take the aggressiveness without the passiveness.
He lost it. I lost it. His eyes were dilated and he was in such a crazed state that I've never seen before. I was scared and mad and sad and very hysterical. Our yelling woke Lincoln from his sleep. Ruby... my precious, intelligent Ruby saw and heard everything. For that, I will NEVER forgive myself. I even have a difficult time typing it out. I HATE MYSELF when I think about her big blue eyes staring at me laying on the floor bawling. HATE. MYSELF.
HATE.
Steve ended up leaving. Saying he wouldn't be back for two weeks and I would be hearing from a lawyer. He returned a short time later when he had called his mom and she wouldn't come pick him up...
In a panic I called my SIL who came over and took Steve downstairs and had a really big talk with him while I cuddled Ruby in bed.
Eventually things calmed down and SIL left.
Steve and I slept in the same bed, with Ruby in the middle. I layed my head on his chest and sobbed. (Ruby was deeply sleeping by then).
Now... now... Steve has once again said he is going to try to be a better husband. And I'll admit today has seen an improvement. But there is some heavy underlying tension. I am afraid to be anything less than smiling and happy even though my heart aches so badly.
We have been torn apart and we need to rebuild. I just hope we have the ability to do it without ruining ourselves. I know that my kids may see us argue again but they will NEVER again see anything so obnoxious as Friday night's events. I grew up seeing that over and over and over. That was my childhood. It's not theirs. It will never be theirs. I promise.
Steve's dad's death has done more damage than I thought it would. And my efforts to help and nurture and care for Steve have been sadly, futile. I cared for him the way I would have wanted to be cared for in such a situation. I've never been through a family member's death before and I did what I thought was best.
I desperately want to have a happy life, a happy marriage. I deserve it. I deserve better that what I've been given recently. I can only do so much, be so much, give so much of myself. It will take me a very long time to heal from this. I don't really know how or where to begin. I am just trying to take small steps forward in whatever way feels the most right.
Note: I do not know if Steve reads this blog or not but I have written this assuming he will read it and I have been completely open and honest and fair and regret nothing I have said here.
Ok, here goes... publish post.
My last post is almost embarrassing considering how far I've gone from any positive feeling in my core in a very short time.
Having two young babies so close together is very hard on a marriage. Having your husband's father die is also very hard on a marriage.
We've been distant. Bitter. Sad. Angry. Distraught. Frustrated.
Or at least I have been. I am only guessing that Steve has been too. I wouldn't be able to say for sure because he does NOT talk about things. Not about anything. It's hard for me. Particularly hard since I am in my house with two kids 2 and under for most of the day. My only means for transportation is usually a stroller. When it rains - which it does a lot here on the West Coast in winter/spring - I am literally trapped here inside my four walls.
I get lonely. I crave support, love, discussions, kind words, emotional progress. But when Steve gets home from work he's not able to provide much of any of those things.
I have felt that he's been harboring resentful or angry feelings towards me. There has not been a kind word offered. There is no touching. No kiss on the cheek. No hugs. Communication only when absolutely required. And even then, it's been cold.
I have been figuratively banging my head against the wall. Not sure what to do. I've tried everything to get him to give it up. Talk. Tell me what I've done wrong. Tell me what's bugging him. He was maintaining that everything is "fine". When asked if he'd go to marriage counseling his response was "absolutely not" - even though he has been seeing a grief counselor to process his dad's death.
Hopefully I'm not sounding too martyr-ish when I say I have given my everything, my all, all my energy and then some, all my emotions, all my goodness - my EVERYTHING to try to be supportive to him and his family, to be a good mother, to be a kind and loving wife - during a really bad time.
However I've been feeling like, to him, I am not worth an effort on his part. I have felt taken for granted.
The other day an email exchange started between myself and my BIL's girlfriend (SIL) as we planned out our MIL's birthday dinner that was to take place this Saturday. Well, as we started going back and forth with our emails, things started to come out. We started talking about the things that have been bothering us. Things that MIL has been doing that have been making our lives very difficult. How our spouses are completely absorbed by her and her grief and how they dote on her and her occasional dramarama. My BIL is the executor to the will and he had told SIL about some financial issues which she was supposed to keep silent about. She confided in me in those emails. Honestly it felt good to have someone to talk to. Someone who understands what I'm going through, who is going through something very similar to me and who knows all the players in the game. Someone to relate to. Someone who was willing to offer a sympathetic ear.
Sometime in the afternoon my phone rang. It was SIL. She said, "Steve's been reading your emails".
In typical Steve fashion - instead of calling me and discussing it, he called his brother. Told him what we were talking about, essentially ruining two relationships instead of just one.
Steve feels that SIL and I are vindictive, evil women who hate his mother.
I have explained that I do not hate his mom. Not even close. In fact I don't like some of the things she does. And I said nothing in my emails that I haven't already said to him.
He told me he's been watching me for a while. Reading my emails and my tweets. He says he knows I talk about him "behind his back". He told me he didn't love me anymore and has been thinking of leaving me for a while.
I explained that what I occasionally say about him on twitter is my way of communicating - in a joking fashion - to like minded friends who can relate to me. Everything I tweet is out in the open and I would never say anything malicious abut him. But he felt otherwise.
Likewise with my email exchange with my SIL.
Besides having to explain and defend myself, I am furious and upset and devastated that my husband has betrayed me and violated my personal life. My personal conversations. My privacy. I am broken hearted that we are in that place.
Obviously there was a lot more detail than this but I care not to get into it.
My BIL and SIL are pretty much done. This was the straw the broke the camels back for them. Why Steve had to involve my BIL I don't know but it was a bad move. My SIL is/was really, really mad at Steve. He apologized to her and she did not accept his apology - which made things worse for me because I know it bothered him but... of course... he wouldn't talk about it. And also, she is my friend and I feel somewhat responsible for what's happening to her on her end of this mess.
To make a really long story a little less long - I had a really big breakdown. Reiterating all the stuff I've been saying to him over the past few months.
He told me he'd make an effort to be a better husband. That he was going to make big changes.
The next day he got off work early. I had errands to run (since I offered to take a birthday lunch/cake to MIL the next day since her dinner at BIL and SIL's was cancelled) I managed to talk to SIL and we decided to meet for a beer with another girlfriend. Steve said it was no problem. I brought him a 6 pack of beer before I met the girls and told him I'd bring dinner home. I was out for a couple of hours. I sent him a text asking if he was doing ok with the the kids. He didn't respond. I called him. He didn't answer the phone.
When I was on my way home he finally answered. He was short with me. I asked what he would like for dinner and he said he already ate - even though it was just dinner time.
When I got home he was back in that bitter, quiet mode. He'd obviously had a hard time with the kids. I know he was frustrated. *I* know what that is like - it is my daily life. He was in a bad mood and quickly so was I. We started to argue again. It escalated. Really escalated. It got ugly. I pushed him to the limit. I knew I was doing it but couldn't stop myself. I wanted him to react to me in some way. I couldn't take the passive aggressiveness anymore. I was so desperate I was willing to take the aggressiveness without the passiveness.
He lost it. I lost it. His eyes were dilated and he was in such a crazed state that I've never seen before. I was scared and mad and sad and very hysterical. Our yelling woke Lincoln from his sleep. Ruby... my precious, intelligent Ruby saw and heard everything. For that, I will NEVER forgive myself. I even have a difficult time typing it out. I HATE MYSELF when I think about her big blue eyes staring at me laying on the floor bawling. HATE. MYSELF.
HATE.
Steve ended up leaving. Saying he wouldn't be back for two weeks and I would be hearing from a lawyer. He returned a short time later when he had called his mom and she wouldn't come pick him up...
In a panic I called my SIL who came over and took Steve downstairs and had a really big talk with him while I cuddled Ruby in bed.
Eventually things calmed down and SIL left.
Steve and I slept in the same bed, with Ruby in the middle. I layed my head on his chest and sobbed. (Ruby was deeply sleeping by then).
Now... now... Steve has once again said he is going to try to be a better husband. And I'll admit today has seen an improvement. But there is some heavy underlying tension. I am afraid to be anything less than smiling and happy even though my heart aches so badly.
We have been torn apart and we need to rebuild. I just hope we have the ability to do it without ruining ourselves. I know that my kids may see us argue again but they will NEVER again see anything so obnoxious as Friday night's events. I grew up seeing that over and over and over. That was my childhood. It's not theirs. It will never be theirs. I promise.
Steve's dad's death has done more damage than I thought it would. And my efforts to help and nurture and care for Steve have been sadly, futile. I cared for him the way I would have wanted to be cared for in such a situation. I've never been through a family member's death before and I did what I thought was best.
I desperately want to have a happy life, a happy marriage. I deserve it. I deserve better that what I've been given recently. I can only do so much, be so much, give so much of myself. It will take me a very long time to heal from this. I don't really know how or where to begin. I am just trying to take small steps forward in whatever way feels the most right.
Note: I do not know if Steve reads this blog or not but I have written this assuming he will read it and I have been completely open and honest and fair and regret nothing I have said here.
Ok, here goes... publish post.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Since yesterday...
Well I've gone ahead and starting making changes. Why wait for January, right? I'll have a head start on all the resolutioners.
Sleep consultant is paid for and booked. Got an email from her and filled out my client history sheet. I now wait for my phone appointment for our in depth interview and then my much awaited sleep plan sometime thereafter.
I did not consult with my husband prior to booking her. I know he doesn't see the problem as being as dire as I do - he thinks "we" are making progress so "we" should keep on with what "we" are doing. When I told him I had spent the money and booked her I was met with the expected passive aggressive response. Whatever.
Then... after reading all your comments on my last post, I started putting some serious thought into the possibility that I might be suffering from some mental health problems - namely PPD. Jeez, you guys, I really did not want to go there. I've been ignoring those suggestions for a while now. I just kept thinking that once things got better, I would feel better. But I see that things aren't going to be "better" for a while yet. And besides, I've had some pretty wicked anxiety attacks lately, along with stupid thoughts, self doubt, guilt, fear, blah blah blah. All the hallmarks of depression. I had sworn years ago that I would never go back on antidepressants (having spent most of my 20's on them), but your comments got me thinking about it and that maybe it might not be such a bad idea to get me though the short term.
So I made an appointment and went to see my doc today.
He doesn't feel that I have PPD, but that I do have "regular" depression. Meh, half a dozen of one, six of the other. Not sure what the big diff is but whatever the case, he's prescribed me some antidepressants and I got a side order of Ativan for those tough nights when I'm laying in bed with a racing heart and racing thoughts. He offered me 0.5mg tablets but I told him he better make them 1mg. I'm no rookie to this.
We had a talk about Lincoln's sleeping. He suggested I hire the particular sleep consultant that I have already hired - which made me feel good about my decision to do that. He said he hired her for both his children. He asked what exactly is happening and I told him Lincoln is awake on average 6 times per night and has a couple of 30 minute naps per day. He asked if my husband helps out at all. I told him "Yes, he gets up one of those six times in the night". He said, "Well your husband is going to have to step up - and you can tell him I said that. He is going to be doing a lot of the work when you get the sleep training plan and he might as well get used to that idea now."
Oh how I wish the doc could have told Steve that himself instead of me telling him. Steve bristled when I relayed the message and then suddenly had to hang up the phone. I've spoken with him since and he's changed his tune, saying he'll do whatever needs to be done to help. We'll see. Talk is cheap.
I'm hoping the antidepressants are going to help me think more clearly, feel stronger emotionally, allow myself to feel less guilt, and not not let stupid little things - like Steve's inability to experience empathy - bother me.
Next up? I'm either getting a GC for the running shoes I asked for for Christmas or I will be taking more money from our line of credit (that I'm not supposed to use) and buying them myself. I want to take up running again. Running made me feel good and I could blare my music nice and loud and just escape, alone, for a while.
(I've said this before but I love you all so very much and do not know where I would be without you. Thank you so much for caring and for taking the time to post your so very thoughtful and helpful and supportive comments. I send a big hug and kiss to each and every one of you.)
Sleep consultant is paid for and booked. Got an email from her and filled out my client history sheet. I now wait for my phone appointment for our in depth interview and then my much awaited sleep plan sometime thereafter.
I did not consult with my husband prior to booking her. I know he doesn't see the problem as being as dire as I do - he thinks "we" are making progress so "we" should keep on with what "we" are doing. When I told him I had spent the money and booked her I was met with the expected passive aggressive response. Whatever.
Then... after reading all your comments on my last post, I started putting some serious thought into the possibility that I might be suffering from some mental health problems - namely PPD. Jeez, you guys, I really did not want to go there. I've been ignoring those suggestions for a while now. I just kept thinking that once things got better, I would feel better. But I see that things aren't going to be "better" for a while yet. And besides, I've had some pretty wicked anxiety attacks lately, along with stupid thoughts, self doubt, guilt, fear, blah blah blah. All the hallmarks of depression. I had sworn years ago that I would never go back on antidepressants (having spent most of my 20's on them), but your comments got me thinking about it and that maybe it might not be such a bad idea to get me though the short term.
So I made an appointment and went to see my doc today.
He doesn't feel that I have PPD, but that I do have "regular" depression. Meh, half a dozen of one, six of the other. Not sure what the big diff is but whatever the case, he's prescribed me some antidepressants and I got a side order of Ativan for those tough nights when I'm laying in bed with a racing heart and racing thoughts. He offered me 0.5mg tablets but I told him he better make them 1mg. I'm no rookie to this.
We had a talk about Lincoln's sleeping. He suggested I hire the particular sleep consultant that I have already hired - which made me feel good about my decision to do that. He said he hired her for both his children. He asked what exactly is happening and I told him Lincoln is awake on average 6 times per night and has a couple of 30 minute naps per day. He asked if my husband helps out at all. I told him "Yes, he gets up one of those six times in the night". He said, "Well your husband is going to have to step up - and you can tell him I said that. He is going to be doing a lot of the work when you get the sleep training plan and he might as well get used to that idea now."
Oh how I wish the doc could have told Steve that himself instead of me telling him. Steve bristled when I relayed the message and then suddenly had to hang up the phone. I've spoken with him since and he's changed his tune, saying he'll do whatever needs to be done to help. We'll see. Talk is cheap.
I'm hoping the antidepressants are going to help me think more clearly, feel stronger emotionally, allow myself to feel less guilt, and not not let stupid little things - like Steve's inability to experience empathy - bother me.
Next up? I'm either getting a GC for the running shoes I asked for for Christmas or I will be taking more money from our line of credit (that I'm not supposed to use) and buying them myself. I want to take up running again. Running made me feel good and I could blare my music nice and loud and just escape, alone, for a while.
(I've said this before but I love you all so very much and do not know where I would be without you. Thank you so much for caring and for taking the time to post your so very thoughtful and helpful and supportive comments. I send a big hug and kiss to each and every one of you.)
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Then the wheels fell off
Just when I thought I was getting somewhere.
Steve got a stomach flu. Then Ruby got it. Then I got it and it was baaaaad. The kind of flu where you leave your dignity in a heap on the bathroom floor. It was so bad I was having flash backs of being in the hospital in labour with Lincoln. Four days later I am still recovering. In the meantime, all sleep logs have gone by the wayside. I don't know if I'm coming or going and I'm just getting by any way I can which means some co-sleeping has been happening again.
And on top of it all? Lincoln is as miserable as sin and not sleeping worth a shit. The reason seems to be a little white lump that I can see poking through his gums. Not quite through yet, but I expect him to cut his first tooth any time.
Today, I thought I just might be having a nervous breakdown. I am so exhausted both physically and mentally. Maybe more in the mental department.
I've never felt quite so defeated.
Steve got a stomach flu. Then Ruby got it. Then I got it and it was baaaaad. The kind of flu where you leave your dignity in a heap on the bathroom floor. It was so bad I was having flash backs of being in the hospital in labour with Lincoln. Four days later I am still recovering. In the meantime, all sleep logs have gone by the wayside. I don't know if I'm coming or going and I'm just getting by any way I can which means some co-sleeping has been happening again.
And on top of it all? Lincoln is as miserable as sin and not sleeping worth a shit. The reason seems to be a little white lump that I can see poking through his gums. Not quite through yet, but I expect him to cut his first tooth any time.
Today, I thought I just might be having a nervous breakdown. I am so exhausted both physically and mentally. Maybe more in the mental department.
I've never felt quite so defeated.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Is this normal?
I decided to hold off on the sleep consultant until I gave sleep training a good try on my own. And upon many people's suggestions (many of you, the health nurse, my midwife) I bought "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child" by Weissbluth. I like his theories and I believe in what he says but good Lord I can not read it fast enough. My spare moments are few and far between and I've barely just made it into the 3rd chapter!
Does crying it out ever NOT work? Is there a chance that he may not be teaching himself how to fall asleep but instead just falling asleep from pure exhaustion? And in the meantime am I just fucking up his life? (and mine).
I can only commit to doing it during the day because I have another child to consider and letting Lincoln scream through the night would wake up Ruby for sure and then my troubles would be two fold. So does that mean that the progress will be slower? I'm guessing it probably does.
And anyways I've made leaps and bounds with him at night, though it's still far from ideal. We've got the bedtime routine down pretty good and he's going 3 or 4 (and once even 5!) hour stretches in between feeds.
Daytime napping is the really big problem right now and that's when we cry it out (he and I both). I took video footage of him "crying" (SCREAMING) in his crib. Today he did it for an hour (I checked him at the correct intervals - which actually seemed to make it worse). Now I have the proof I need to exonerate myself when the police knock on my door because the neighbors have called to report a child being tortured. "Officer I wasn't burning him with cigarettes! I swear! I don't even smoke!"
No really, I did take a video of it. Is this normal? This is at about the 45 minute mark. After I took this video I went and took stock of the medicine cabinet to see what I had that might be effective in rendering me to a comatose state.
(Disclaimer: Baby screaming in video. Maybe don't watch at work or if you are sensitive. )
I played it for Steve and he said..... "Don't do that."
Ruby NEVER cried like this - that is all I have to compare to. Is that why it seems so over the top?
I just talked to my MIL and she said it wouldn't be good to let him cry too long and that maybe I should try a little whiskey. I told her, what a coincidence because I was actually just thinking about having some. But apparently she meant I should give it to Lincoln. Talk about old school. Just for the record, we don't do that anymore .... right?
It is during these screaming fits that I feel like I need professional help. Both for him and for myself. I need therapy and he needs professional sleep training. Or am I just being a big wuss? You'd think I was the first woman to sleep train her child, I know...
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
The Lately
Last week I had to take Lincoln back to the doctor because the medication he was on for his third UTI was making him very very sick. He had explosive diarrhea, severe gas and I also assume from his screaming and back arching and kicking his legs that he had the bad stomach cramps that is also associate with that particular medication. My doctor told me that he had sent the pediatric urologist another referral telling him that Lincoln was an emergency and we need him seen before November 29th.
Then on Thursday I saw what my boy would be like if he wasn't sick with a UTI or having his insides explode from medication. Oh he was sweet, and happy, and laughing and not fussy and NOT screaming in pain. It was pure bliss. I had the best day on Thursday.
Friday he started being fussy again and I phoned the urologist office myself leaving a message begging for him to be seen ASAP as I know he is going to get sick again and it's only a matter of time. I phoned two more times on Friday only to get voice mail and have yet to hear back.
Saturday the screaming started again so I packed him up and made the drive to Children's Hospital. Two separate pediatricians looked at him and both immediately said he has phimosis (foreskin too tight) and they felt that was likely the reason for the infections. I saw him pee and his penis ballooned up with urine before the pee came out so I could see how that would force urine back up into his plumbing - causing infections.
The good news is that it may not be kidney reflux. The bad news is that he may need to be circumcised - which I know is a touchy, opinionated subject for some people. I'm not particularly interested in where you stand on that issue either, I didn't want my son circumcised. End.
The pediatricians told me that having an appointment with the urologist on the 29th is already really soon and there is pretty much no chance that we would be getting in any earlier (which explains why the pediatric urologist's office hasn't returned my calls). In the meantime I have some cortisone to apply a few times a day in hopes of loosening up the skin, and giving him a slight chance of avoiding circumcision.
And it turns out he didn't have another UTI. But maybe you can understand why at the first sign of pain I threw him in the van and headed to the emergency room. 3 UTIs in 7 or 8 weeks is too many. And I'm pretty stressy. I'm on edge waiting for the next UTI to materialize.
It's taking a fairly substantial toll on this household. Steve and I are at each other's throats too much. Steve is afraid of being left alone with Lincoln in case he has one of his screaming fits - which means that I don't get time alone to do... much of anything. Taking 10 minutes for a shower sometimes seems like I'm asking for the world. Steve's life goes on relatively unaffected and I feel resentful and unappreciated. Ruby is acting out and cries "Mommy up!" every time Lincoln squeaks because she doesn't want me to go to him. I'm exhausted from all that and other issues that are pressing - such as my parents marriage (why is that being dumped on me anyways?), my dad's alcoholism / drug addiction / personality deterioration (he is a wreck and destroying any joy of spending family time together), my own self esteem (WHY won't my weight come off???), my loneliness (having a social life was hard with one baby - it's nonexistent with two - especially when one is sick), my job (have I posted about that disaster? I can't remember) and so on...
I know I'm the mom and it's my job to care for my kids no matter what sacrifices it takes and I'm fully on board with that. I also appreciate all that I have in the world and I know how fortunate I am. I have been really working hard on being positive and being a good person and putting good karma out into the world.
Some days, though? Some days I wonder if I'm going to make it through. Yes, I know I will. I'm tough and I'm resiliant and I love my kids so much and that gives me more strength than I could have ever imagined. But some days... some days just make me question everything.
Then on Thursday I saw what my boy would be like if he wasn't sick with a UTI or having his insides explode from medication. Oh he was sweet, and happy, and laughing and not fussy and NOT screaming in pain. It was pure bliss. I had the best day on Thursday.
Friday he started being fussy again and I phoned the urologist office myself leaving a message begging for him to be seen ASAP as I know he is going to get sick again and it's only a matter of time. I phoned two more times on Friday only to get voice mail and have yet to hear back.
Saturday the screaming started again so I packed him up and made the drive to Children's Hospital. Two separate pediatricians looked at him and both immediately said he has phimosis (foreskin too tight) and they felt that was likely the reason for the infections. I saw him pee and his penis ballooned up with urine before the pee came out so I could see how that would force urine back up into his plumbing - causing infections.
The good news is that it may not be kidney reflux. The bad news is that he may need to be circumcised - which I know is a touchy, opinionated subject for some people. I'm not particularly interested in where you stand on that issue either, I didn't want my son circumcised. End.
The pediatricians told me that having an appointment with the urologist on the 29th is already really soon and there is pretty much no chance that we would be getting in any earlier (which explains why the pediatric urologist's office hasn't returned my calls). In the meantime I have some cortisone to apply a few times a day in hopes of loosening up the skin, and giving him a slight chance of avoiding circumcision.
And it turns out he didn't have another UTI. But maybe you can understand why at the first sign of pain I threw him in the van and headed to the emergency room. 3 UTIs in 7 or 8 weeks is too many. And I'm pretty stressy. I'm on edge waiting for the next UTI to materialize.
It's taking a fairly substantial toll on this household. Steve and I are at each other's throats too much. Steve is afraid of being left alone with Lincoln in case he has one of his screaming fits - which means that I don't get time alone to do... much of anything. Taking 10 minutes for a shower sometimes seems like I'm asking for the world. Steve's life goes on relatively unaffected and I feel resentful and unappreciated. Ruby is acting out and cries "Mommy up!" every time Lincoln squeaks because she doesn't want me to go to him. I'm exhausted from all that and other issues that are pressing - such as my parents marriage (why is that being dumped on me anyways?), my dad's alcoholism / drug addiction / personality deterioration (he is a wreck and destroying any joy of spending family time together), my own self esteem (WHY won't my weight come off???), my loneliness (having a social life was hard with one baby - it's nonexistent with two - especially when one is sick), my job (have I posted about that disaster? I can't remember) and so on...
I know I'm the mom and it's my job to care for my kids no matter what sacrifices it takes and I'm fully on board with that. I also appreciate all that I have in the world and I know how fortunate I am. I have been really working hard on being positive and being a good person and putting good karma out into the world.
Some days, though? Some days I wonder if I'm going to make it through. Yes, I know I will. I'm tough and I'm resiliant and I love my kids so much and that gives me more strength than I could have ever imagined. But some days... some days just make me question everything.
Friday, September 3, 2010
I love Lincoln
Have I mentioned that? Honestly, I don't think I have. Not here anyways. And I need to.
I wrote a LOT of posts about how the surprise pregnancy totally blindsided me and how I had a really hard time processing it and trying to come to terms with the fact that I would be the mother of two when at one point I thought I would be childless for the rest of my life. And then how lucky I was to finally conceive and then give birth to Ruby, and how I made myself come to terms with the fact that she would likely be an only child and I had made that seem very appealing in my head, because that's what you do. You learn to accept and love the life you have.
And then I wrote a lot of posts about how hard his pregnancy was and how much I was not enjoying it. And that was so true. I'm not going back on that - the pregnancy was definitely stressful and physically taxing and downright painful and very unpleasant. I am just not one of those women who really enjoys being pregnant.
I also may or may not have posted about how much I was (am) in love with Ruby and how I didn't think I could ever possibly love another child the way I love her.
And now, 9 weeks into this I can not IMAGINE my life without Lincoln. My god I am crazy in love with him. He is my special little gift and I am ever so thankful to have been blessed with him. He is sweet and snugly and a true little mamma's boy. I couldn't be happier. My heart is bursting full.
I think I just needed to make all that clear.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
The Door Incident
Last night after dinner Steve and I decided to go for a walk. So after rounding up and strapping down the kids we headed out, me pushing the double stroller. It was hot hot hot outside, making the double stroller extra work to push. I was sweating and tired.
While walking we decided to stop at Booster Juice for a smoothie.
Walking up to the door we were discussing what kind of smoothie we should get.
We got to the door of Booster Juice and Steve opened it, walked through it and then let it close behind him... leaving me standing just outside with the big double stroller. I stared/glared through the glass door at him thinking he would quickly realize his mistake and turn around, apologizing.
He didn't.
I watched him walk through the store, up to the counter to order.
There happened to be a group of 6 men standing just inside the door who all saw what happened and when they realized Steve wasn't going to come open the door, one of them jumped off his stool and opened the door for me.
I thanked him - which made Steve turn around and realize what had just happened.
He laughed sheepishly and said, "Oh I thought you were going to just wait outside."
Outside? In the sweltering heat? With two babies? When it's cool and air conditioned inside?
Really?
I could have made a big deal about it but I didn't. It wouldn't have done me any good. I did let him know that it wasn't very nice of him but he totally brushed me off.
How I really feel about it? It made me feel really bad. It hurt my heart. I'm the mother of his two babies and I work hard to keep every one happy and cared for and it's hard, hard work. And I'm tired everyday but I keep doing what needs to be done to raise two happy healthy kids and a maintain a decent marriage. And I do try to care for my marriage. I'm always trying to think of ways to show him that I love him despite being exhausted and not always wanting to put in that extra effort.
Him letting the door close in my face made me feel really unappreciated, uncared for and unloved. Like I don't matter. I don't want to feel taken for granted.
I would also like my kids to grow up seeing that their parents love and respect each other - something I did not get to experience.
I know he has it in him. When I met him and for the first few years of our marriage, he was a doting husband. He would fall all over himself for me. Now, not so much. Am I to blame? Maybe a bit, I know I can be a naggy bitch sometimes.
I know it was probably just an absent minded man thing and I should let it go - and I will. I know that I'm over analyzing it and that may be due to hormones and fatigue. I know it wouldn't have felt as bad if I wasn't pushing our two kids in a double stroller after a long day of looking after them, or if he had realized his mistake and apologized instead of making up some bullshit excuse.
There's no point in discussing it with him because he's not a discusser. So instead I will analyze it to death in my head. Make a mountain out of it until it eats me up and I have a meltdown. Write about it to death in a blog post. And then maybe wait until my hormones shift and I can laugh it off like he did...
While walking we decided to stop at Booster Juice for a smoothie.
Walking up to the door we were discussing what kind of smoothie we should get.
We got to the door of Booster Juice and Steve opened it, walked through it and then let it close behind him... leaving me standing just outside with the big double stroller. I stared/glared through the glass door at him thinking he would quickly realize his mistake and turn around, apologizing.
He didn't.
I watched him walk through the store, up to the counter to order.
There happened to be a group of 6 men standing just inside the door who all saw what happened and when they realized Steve wasn't going to come open the door, one of them jumped off his stool and opened the door for me.
I thanked him - which made Steve turn around and realize what had just happened.
He laughed sheepishly and said, "Oh I thought you were going to just wait outside."
Outside? In the sweltering heat? With two babies? When it's cool and air conditioned inside?
Really?
I could have made a big deal about it but I didn't. It wouldn't have done me any good. I did let him know that it wasn't very nice of him but he totally brushed me off.
How I really feel about it? It made me feel really bad. It hurt my heart. I'm the mother of his two babies and I work hard to keep every one happy and cared for and it's hard, hard work. And I'm tired everyday but I keep doing what needs to be done to raise two happy healthy kids and a maintain a decent marriage. And I do try to care for my marriage. I'm always trying to think of ways to show him that I love him despite being exhausted and not always wanting to put in that extra effort.
Him letting the door close in my face made me feel really unappreciated, uncared for and unloved. Like I don't matter. I don't want to feel taken for granted.
I would also like my kids to grow up seeing that their parents love and respect each other - something I did not get to experience.
I know he has it in him. When I met him and for the first few years of our marriage, he was a doting husband. He would fall all over himself for me. Now, not so much. Am I to blame? Maybe a bit, I know I can be a naggy bitch sometimes.
I know it was probably just an absent minded man thing and I should let it go - and I will. I know that I'm over analyzing it and that may be due to hormones and fatigue. I know it wouldn't have felt as bad if I wasn't pushing our two kids in a double stroller after a long day of looking after them, or if he had realized his mistake and apologized instead of making up some bullshit excuse.
There's no point in discussing it with him because he's not a discusser. So instead I will analyze it to death in my head. Make a mountain out of it until it eats me up and I have a meltdown. Write about it to death in a blog post. And then maybe wait until my hormones shift and I can laugh it off like he did...
Sunday, July 4, 2010
10 days
He's 10 days old now.
I've thought about writing a post so many times in those 10 days but my moods swing so dramatically that whatever I wrote, I knew I would hate myself for it a few hours later and either delete it or write another post reneging it.
The first week was the worst. I was so fucking emotional I was crying all. the. time. I was certain there was NO WAY I was going to survive this.
I was stressed over Ruby and how I've "ruined" her life. I cried every time I looked at her, overwhelmed with guilt.
I was embarrassed of myself for how I acted while I was in labour. I cried and screamed in pain and I begged to die. When it was time to push I at first refused because I said that I just couldn't. I begged the midwife and/or nurse to get him out another way, any other way. I felt ashamed acting so out of control and it ate me up a bit.
I was uncomfortable with breastfeeding. Remember I pumped for 6 months with Ruby because she refused to breastfeed. Lincoln is a champ in that department but he sucked so hard it hurt (I cracked and bled). And I felt trapped by it - sitting on the couch feeding him for hours and hours in a day. Not to mention the wild emotions that were released when I was in the actual act of doing it. I also felt shy about doing it. My boobs are bigger than Lincoln's head and I found it extremely difficult to be discreet which really bothered me.
I felt pain and immense fatigue from the birth. I was so tired and shaky and had zero appetite. So even though I was hungry and knew I should eat - I couldn't. And that made things worse. I was soooo weak.
I thought/imagined that Steve was disgusted with me. Both my appearance and my emotionalism.
Ruby acted like a demon. She was already going through a "phase" when Lincoln came into the world but I managed to blame myself for bringing a new baby into the house for her behavior. I felt like a horrible mother because I was actually incapable of dealing with her. Her whining and crying and often rotten behavior almost put me over the top.
I was overcome with fear and anxiety of how in the hell I'm going to look after both Ruby and Lincoln when Steve goes back to work later this week.
After a particularly tearful visit to the midwive's office, one midwife said she would refer to me to post partum mental health.
Later that day the midwife who delivered Lincoln called and talked to me about the birth and explained that it really was normal and I did and said nothing that I need to be ashamed of.
I let Ruby go to my mom's house over night when Lincoln was a week old. Of course I felt like I was pawning her off and hated myself for it but the next morning I felt refreshed and more clear.
And in the past few days I feel like things are improving. My body is healing. I'm getting the hang of Lincoln. I bought a breastfeeding cover. I'm not quite as sleep deprived feeling. I'm working on helping Ruby through her phase. The guilt is fading. I'm able to do a little more.
I feel incredibly lucky to have such a good baby. Lincoln is kickass good. He's not fussy. He doesn't cry (unless he's really, really hungry). And a few times I have had to wake HIM to feed him in the night. Sometimes I only have to get up with him once or twice in the night. (I didn't want to write this paragraph because as soon as I hit "publish" he will turn into a sleep depriving demon, I just know it)
I probably won't need the mental health appointment. I can probably work through this.
And yet still... at around 5 or 6pm each day I am usually in fairly rough shape. The tiredness hits and so does the depression. The tears are easy to fall. It usually lasts until I go to bed. But I know that when I wake up the next day (or sometime in the night) I will likely feel better.
I just have to keep on keeping on and hope things keep improving - however slowly.
I've thought about writing a post so many times in those 10 days but my moods swing so dramatically that whatever I wrote, I knew I would hate myself for it a few hours later and either delete it or write another post reneging it.
The first week was the worst. I was so fucking emotional I was crying all. the. time. I was certain there was NO WAY I was going to survive this.
I was stressed over Ruby and how I've "ruined" her life. I cried every time I looked at her, overwhelmed with guilt.
I was embarrassed of myself for how I acted while I was in labour. I cried and screamed in pain and I begged to die. When it was time to push I at first refused because I said that I just couldn't. I begged the midwife and/or nurse to get him out another way, any other way. I felt ashamed acting so out of control and it ate me up a bit.
I was uncomfortable with breastfeeding. Remember I pumped for 6 months with Ruby because she refused to breastfeed. Lincoln is a champ in that department but he sucked so hard it hurt (I cracked and bled). And I felt trapped by it - sitting on the couch feeding him for hours and hours in a day. Not to mention the wild emotions that were released when I was in the actual act of doing it. I also felt shy about doing it. My boobs are bigger than Lincoln's head and I found it extremely difficult to be discreet which really bothered me.
I felt pain and immense fatigue from the birth. I was so tired and shaky and had zero appetite. So even though I was hungry and knew I should eat - I couldn't. And that made things worse. I was soooo weak.
I thought/imagined that Steve was disgusted with me. Both my appearance and my emotionalism.
Ruby acted like a demon. She was already going through a "phase" when Lincoln came into the world but I managed to blame myself for bringing a new baby into the house for her behavior. I felt like a horrible mother because I was actually incapable of dealing with her. Her whining and crying and often rotten behavior almost put me over the top.
I was overcome with fear and anxiety of how in the hell I'm going to look after both Ruby and Lincoln when Steve goes back to work later this week.
After a particularly tearful visit to the midwive's office, one midwife said she would refer to me to post partum mental health.
Later that day the midwife who delivered Lincoln called and talked to me about the birth and explained that it really was normal and I did and said nothing that I need to be ashamed of.
I let Ruby go to my mom's house over night when Lincoln was a week old. Of course I felt like I was pawning her off and hated myself for it but the next morning I felt refreshed and more clear.
And in the past few days I feel like things are improving. My body is healing. I'm getting the hang of Lincoln. I bought a breastfeeding cover. I'm not quite as sleep deprived feeling. I'm working on helping Ruby through her phase. The guilt is fading. I'm able to do a little more.
I feel incredibly lucky to have such a good baby. Lincoln is kickass good. He's not fussy. He doesn't cry (unless he's really, really hungry). And a few times I have had to wake HIM to feed him in the night. Sometimes I only have to get up with him once or twice in the night. (I didn't want to write this paragraph because as soon as I hit "publish" he will turn into a sleep depriving demon, I just know it)
I probably won't need the mental health appointment. I can probably work through this.
And yet still... at around 5 or 6pm each day I am usually in fairly rough shape. The tiredness hits and so does the depression. The tears are easy to fall. It usually lasts until I go to bed. But I know that when I wake up the next day (or sometime in the night) I will likely feel better.
I just have to keep on keeping on and hope things keep improving - however slowly.
Monday, June 21, 2010
5 days OD
At 5 days overdue I'm struggling to stay positive.
Yes, I know this won't and can't last forever, but every day it goes on it gets harder and harder.
One of my biggest struggles is with Ruby. I find it difficult to care for her while I'm this pregnant. My body is hurting all the time and my energy level isn't very high. I feel terrible that I'm not the mommy I want to be to her right now. I know she senses it too. She deserves better, my little angel. My best is not good enough right now.
Also - I'm struggling with the fact that I don't have local childcare for her. My daycare closed at the end of May and I don't know how to find someone else to take care of her for just once in a while. Most daycares don't take kids for just a day, or a few hours here and there. And I don't know enough people locally or have the resources to find a babysitter. I couldn't just leave her with some stranger.
The only person I have for looking after her is my mom and she lives 45 minutes away and works full time. She LOVES looking after Ruby but doesn't like taking time off work because the woman who covers for her is a psychopath. That and she actually doesn't like taking time off for anything. (No question where I inherited my work ethics from)
Today I have another NST and an AFI (amniotic fluid indicator) and I have to bring Ruby with me because my mom took a day off last week while I had these same tests done. Luckily Steve is off today so he's coming with us and is going to look after her while I have my tests but the situation isn't ideal. Who wants to be toting a toddler around a hospital?
I have a midwife appt on Wednesday and I will have to bring Ruby with me to that too.
And then sometime this week I will possibly (likely) have an obstetric consult to schedule an induction. Who will look after Ruby then? Steve will probably have to work. My mom will be working. I'm stressed about it. What will happen? I know I can't bring her with me to the hospital by myself.
Yesterday I had my ILs and my parents over for BBQ for Fathers Day (thankfully it was short and sweet and everyone was well behaved). My MIL was asking my mom if she was taking holidays soon. My mom explained that Steve would be taking 2 weeks vacation when the baby was born and then she would be taking one week after that but that she was "on call" to come look after Ruby when I go into the hospital to have the baby. Then she said, "But I'm really hoping it's just a quick in and out, one day thing." So that she doesn't have to take more than one day off work.
Well fuck, Mom. I can't control the circumstances of the baby being born - as much as I would like to. And it just adds more stress to know that's how she feels about it.
Adding to the stress - she lives 45mins to an hour away. The hospital is another 45 minutes in the opposite direction. The hospital is in the middle of the city. So none of it is easy or convenient.
Depending on how today goes with the NST and AFI I was thinking that it might be better (for me) if my mom took her holidays this week so that she could help me with Ruby and babysit her when I need to be at my appointments. But I know she wants to spend her time off with the new baby.
And on top of all that did I mention that I'm now FIVE DAYS overdue? Aside from all the childcare issues - I feel extremely uncomfortable, in pain all the time and having a really hard time keeping my chin up. I'm finding it harder and harder to keep myself occupied and to not think about the when and the how and the where and all the rest of it. And I'm just aching for it to be over and to get on with the next part - which I also fear and know will not be easy, but at least I want to get on with it.
Ok, that concludes my whining for the day. Off to do my hair and put on makeup and get dressed and push on with my day.
Yes, I know this won't and can't last forever, but every day it goes on it gets harder and harder.
One of my biggest struggles is with Ruby. I find it difficult to care for her while I'm this pregnant. My body is hurting all the time and my energy level isn't very high. I feel terrible that I'm not the mommy I want to be to her right now. I know she senses it too. She deserves better, my little angel. My best is not good enough right now.
Also - I'm struggling with the fact that I don't have local childcare for her. My daycare closed at the end of May and I don't know how to find someone else to take care of her for just once in a while. Most daycares don't take kids for just a day, or a few hours here and there. And I don't know enough people locally or have the resources to find a babysitter. I couldn't just leave her with some stranger.
The only person I have for looking after her is my mom and she lives 45 minutes away and works full time. She LOVES looking after Ruby but doesn't like taking time off work because the woman who covers for her is a psychopath. That and she actually doesn't like taking time off for anything. (No question where I inherited my work ethics from)
Today I have another NST and an AFI (amniotic fluid indicator) and I have to bring Ruby with me because my mom took a day off last week while I had these same tests done. Luckily Steve is off today so he's coming with us and is going to look after her while I have my tests but the situation isn't ideal. Who wants to be toting a toddler around a hospital?
I have a midwife appt on Wednesday and I will have to bring Ruby with me to that too.
And then sometime this week I will possibly (likely) have an obstetric consult to schedule an induction. Who will look after Ruby then? Steve will probably have to work. My mom will be working. I'm stressed about it. What will happen? I know I can't bring her with me to the hospital by myself.
Yesterday I had my ILs and my parents over for BBQ for Fathers Day (thankfully it was short and sweet and everyone was well behaved). My MIL was asking my mom if she was taking holidays soon. My mom explained that Steve would be taking 2 weeks vacation when the baby was born and then she would be taking one week after that but that she was "on call" to come look after Ruby when I go into the hospital to have the baby. Then she said, "But I'm really hoping it's just a quick in and out, one day thing." So that she doesn't have to take more than one day off work.
Well fuck, Mom. I can't control the circumstances of the baby being born - as much as I would like to. And it just adds more stress to know that's how she feels about it.
Adding to the stress - she lives 45mins to an hour away. The hospital is another 45 minutes in the opposite direction. The hospital is in the middle of the city. So none of it is easy or convenient.
Depending on how today goes with the NST and AFI I was thinking that it might be better (for me) if my mom took her holidays this week so that she could help me with Ruby and babysit her when I need to be at my appointments. But I know she wants to spend her time off with the new baby.
And on top of all that did I mention that I'm now FIVE DAYS overdue? Aside from all the childcare issues - I feel extremely uncomfortable, in pain all the time and having a really hard time keeping my chin up. I'm finding it harder and harder to keep myself occupied and to not think about the when and the how and the where and all the rest of it. And I'm just aching for it to be over and to get on with the next part - which I also fear and know will not be easy, but at least I want to get on with it.
Ok, that concludes my whining for the day. Off to do my hair and put on makeup and get dressed and push on with my day.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Is this normal??
I don't know what to do with Ruby. She's making me nuts. My god I love her more than I could ever express but I am not having a good time lately.
She has all sorts of toys to play with but she doesn't want to play with them - even if I play with her. She wants things that are mine.
I can no longer do anything on the computer as long as she is awake (she's napping now). It makes her crazy and he NEEDS to push all the buttons. I have sent so many nonsensical, half written emails because she is reaching over me slamming on the keyboard.
I can't do housework because she doesn't want me to. When I try to prepare a meal she will wedge herself in between me and the counter and push me away from it. All while whining.
She wants me to pick her up - but only if I'm standing or walking or trying to do something. If I try to sit down with her she gets pissed and whines. It doesn't work well with my current physical condition.
If I am on the phone she wants the phone. She will fight me to push the buttons while I'm trying to talk. This goes double for my Blackberry. She's obsessed with it.
She doesn't want me to wear sunglasses - she wants to take them off, put them on, give them to her dad, break the arms off them, put them on me, stick the arms of them into my eyeballs.
I can not sit at the table and read the paper, she wants up and will cry and whine until I let her up onto my lap - she will then proceed to grab the paper and throw it all over the floor.
She signs food or drink and then will only eat a few bites before she throws it all on the floor. But when I try to clean it up she hangs off me and cries.
Sometimes she wants ME to eat her food. And she loses it when I won't. But she doesn't give up. She will push it in my face and smear it on me or my clothes until I take it away. Then she cries.
There is no television watching. I have tried every cartoon ever made, I've tried the Doodlebops, the Yo Gabba Gabba, Sesame Street - whatever. She couldn't give a shit about the TV. Yes, I know this is supposed to be good but my god sometimes I would give anything for a few minutes of peace.
When I eat she whines. She acts like she wants what I have but when I give her a bite she spits it on the floor (oh my god I can't tell you how crazy that makes me). She wants to play with my fork (smashing it on the plate). She doesn't want her water, she wants mine.
When I have to go pee I try to occupy her and then I race to the bathroom but she's never far behind. In the time it takes me to pee she can unravel an entire roll of toilet paper, pull out every tampon and pad I own and thow them all over the bathroom, eat a half a bar of soap, empty the garbage and wave around the toilet brush.
She also started biting me again. Yesterday she bit my nipple. No, she's not being breastfed - she just somehow knew to pick the most painful and vulnerable place on my body. Oh, and it was while I was on the phone.
And it's not the same when Steve is home. She's much better behaved for him. She doesn't bite him or act like a little psychotic maniac with him (usually). Is it me? What the hell can I do different? What am I doing wrong. What. The. Fuck??? I'm fairly limited right now as to what I can do with her. Not to mention it's been raining pretty much every day since I have been off work so there's not a lot of going outside lately either.
Maybe she's bored or maybe she's not burning enough energy - or maybe she just plain enjoys tormenting me?
Honestly, I am being reduced to tears. I don't know what to do. I'm 9 months pregnant and I'm in constant pain and discomfort and I just can't keep up. My mental health is being tested.
What's going to happen when I have to look after a newborn too? What will happen then? What will happen until then? I'm going crazy and I'm getting really scared of what my future looks like.
She has all sorts of toys to play with but she doesn't want to play with them - even if I play with her. She wants things that are mine.
I can no longer do anything on the computer as long as she is awake (she's napping now). It makes her crazy and he NEEDS to push all the buttons. I have sent so many nonsensical, half written emails because she is reaching over me slamming on the keyboard.
I can't do housework because she doesn't want me to. When I try to prepare a meal she will wedge herself in between me and the counter and push me away from it. All while whining.
She wants me to pick her up - but only if I'm standing or walking or trying to do something. If I try to sit down with her she gets pissed and whines. It doesn't work well with my current physical condition.
If I am on the phone she wants the phone. She will fight me to push the buttons while I'm trying to talk. This goes double for my Blackberry. She's obsessed with it.
She doesn't want me to wear sunglasses - she wants to take them off, put them on, give them to her dad, break the arms off them, put them on me, stick the arms of them into my eyeballs.
I can not sit at the table and read the paper, she wants up and will cry and whine until I let her up onto my lap - she will then proceed to grab the paper and throw it all over the floor.
She signs food or drink and then will only eat a few bites before she throws it all on the floor. But when I try to clean it up she hangs off me and cries.
Sometimes she wants ME to eat her food. And she loses it when I won't. But she doesn't give up. She will push it in my face and smear it on me or my clothes until I take it away. Then she cries.
There is no television watching. I have tried every cartoon ever made, I've tried the Doodlebops, the Yo Gabba Gabba, Sesame Street - whatever. She couldn't give a shit about the TV. Yes, I know this is supposed to be good but my god sometimes I would give anything for a few minutes of peace.
When I eat she whines. She acts like she wants what I have but when I give her a bite she spits it on the floor (oh my god I can't tell you how crazy that makes me). She wants to play with my fork (smashing it on the plate). She doesn't want her water, she wants mine.
When I have to go pee I try to occupy her and then I race to the bathroom but she's never far behind. In the time it takes me to pee she can unravel an entire roll of toilet paper, pull out every tampon and pad I own and thow them all over the bathroom, eat a half a bar of soap, empty the garbage and wave around the toilet brush.
She also started biting me again. Yesterday she bit my nipple. No, she's not being breastfed - she just somehow knew to pick the most painful and vulnerable place on my body. Oh, and it was while I was on the phone.
And it's not the same when Steve is home. She's much better behaved for him. She doesn't bite him or act like a little psychotic maniac with him (usually). Is it me? What the hell can I do different? What am I doing wrong. What. The. Fuck??? I'm fairly limited right now as to what I can do with her. Not to mention it's been raining pretty much every day since I have been off work so there's not a lot of going outside lately either.
Maybe she's bored or maybe she's not burning enough energy - or maybe she just plain enjoys tormenting me?
Honestly, I am being reduced to tears. I don't know what to do. I'm 9 months pregnant and I'm in constant pain and discomfort and I just can't keep up. My mental health is being tested.
What's going to happen when I have to look after a newborn too? What will happen then? What will happen until then? I'm going crazy and I'm getting really scared of what my future looks like.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Stress vs. Cash
On Friday I had another "spell" at work. This one wasn't nearly as bad as the one I had on Monday but I wasn't about to sit around and wait for it to progress. As soon as I started noticing some problems with my vision I left work and headed to the doctor, this time my family doctor as opposed to a walk-in.
He pretty much ruled out a TMA (mini-stroke) which made me feel a WHOLE lot better about things. He suspected that I'm probably getting migraines with aura - which is what I suspected also. To be safe though, he is referring me to an optamologist and then to someone to check my arteries.
Honestly though, these "spells" have coincided with some fairly heavy duty stress at work and I can't help but feel that I'm having stress-induced migraines. That place is killing me right now. The girl that was hired (far too late) is just NOT working out. And the pressure is on me to make sure that every aspect of my job is going to be taken care of once I'm gone. I don't feel like that's even possible. I've expressed my feelings to my boss(es) and advised them that they are likely going to have to bring in the girl from half a country away who used to to my job. Unfortunately egos are in the way and nobody wants to admit that they fucked up. Nobody wants to ask for extra help.
So the pressure remains on me.
As hard as I'm trying to just not care and to just say fuckit! and walk away - it is stressing me out. I care about my job and about the work that I do. I've worked SO HARD to get it running smoothly and for me to be at the level of knowledge that I'm at. Being a professional is important to me. I know I'm going to have to let it all go. But I'm expected to pull off 6 more working days before I'm free to call it quits - with the grand finale being month-end which is the peak of stressfulness.
I have given my bosses the letter from my midwives stating that I'm to stop working immediately. However... they have dangled this carrot: if I continue to work at least a couple of hours a day and make myself available for training and assistance via telephone and email - they will continue to pay my full wage.
Considering the financial "situation" that I'm in due to $20,000 of IVF, a year of mat leave wages (60% of my regular wage), another year of mat leave wages on the very near horizon AND the costs of TWO kids in diapers coming up... I need the cake.
So although I feel that it might be in my body and mind's best interest to walk away from work and start my mat leave immediately - my bank account says otherwise. If I can just get through 6 more modified working days, I can walk away feeling like I've done everything I can do for both work and my wallet.
I'm gonna try.
He pretty much ruled out a TMA (mini-stroke) which made me feel a WHOLE lot better about things. He suspected that I'm probably getting migraines with aura - which is what I suspected also. To be safe though, he is referring me to an optamologist and then to someone to check my arteries.
Honestly though, these "spells" have coincided with some fairly heavy duty stress at work and I can't help but feel that I'm having stress-induced migraines. That place is killing me right now. The girl that was hired (far too late) is just NOT working out. And the pressure is on me to make sure that every aspect of my job is going to be taken care of once I'm gone. I don't feel like that's even possible. I've expressed my feelings to my boss(es) and advised them that they are likely going to have to bring in the girl from half a country away who used to to my job. Unfortunately egos are in the way and nobody wants to admit that they fucked up. Nobody wants to ask for extra help.
So the pressure remains on me.
As hard as I'm trying to just not care and to just say fuckit! and walk away - it is stressing me out. I care about my job and about the work that I do. I've worked SO HARD to get it running smoothly and for me to be at the level of knowledge that I'm at. Being a professional is important to me. I know I'm going to have to let it all go. But I'm expected to pull off 6 more working days before I'm free to call it quits - with the grand finale being month-end which is the peak of stressfulness.
I have given my bosses the letter from my midwives stating that I'm to stop working immediately. However... they have dangled this carrot: if I continue to work at least a couple of hours a day and make myself available for training and assistance via telephone and email - they will continue to pay my full wage.
Considering the financial "situation" that I'm in due to $20,000 of IVF, a year of mat leave wages (60% of my regular wage), another year of mat leave wages on the very near horizon AND the costs of TWO kids in diapers coming up... I need the cake.
So although I feel that it might be in my body and mind's best interest to walk away from work and start my mat leave immediately - my bank account says otherwise. If I can just get through 6 more modified working days, I can walk away feeling like I've done everything I can do for both work and my wallet.
I'm gonna try.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Questions
Can my marriage survive 2 kids? A newborn and a toddler?
Can it survive the rest of this pregnancy?
Will I ever feel well rested again?
Does Ruby know something now? Is that why she is constantly biting, scratching, pinching and hitting me.
Will I ever have a clean house again? Will I stop caring?
Should I get my hair cut now or wait til after the baby is born? What about a cut and color?
Am I too old to be doing this 2 young kids thing and be good at it?
Will Ruby resent me when I have to spend so much time and energy on a new baby?
Will I be able to train someone to do my job properly before I go on maternity leave?
Will the ultrasound on Wednesday show the placenta has moved? And that it is still functioning properly?
Will we be able to pay our bills?
Will we ever get a second vehicle?
Will we ever get the brakes fixed on our first vehicle?
Will I get treated special on my 35th birthday next week?
What about Mothers Day?
If I'm so much smaller with this pregnancy, why am I getting new stretch marks?
Will the Canucks have a good playoff run?
Why did my daycare lady have to decide to close permanently at the end of May?
Will I be able to breastfeed this time?
Will Ruby EVER cuddle with me? Will my son be a cuddler?
Will he be a "good" baby?
Is this going to be as hard as I'm sure it's going to be?
Am I mistaking fatigue for depression? Or depression for fatigue? Or am I feeling both?
Can I do this?
Will I ever feel "ready"?
Does anyone have a crystal ball?
Can it survive the rest of this pregnancy?
Will I ever feel well rested again?
Does Ruby know something now? Is that why she is constantly biting, scratching, pinching and hitting me.
Will I ever have a clean house again? Will I stop caring?
Should I get my hair cut now or wait til after the baby is born? What about a cut and color?
Am I too old to be doing this 2 young kids thing and be good at it?
Will Ruby resent me when I have to spend so much time and energy on a new baby?
Will I be able to train someone to do my job properly before I go on maternity leave?
Will the ultrasound on Wednesday show the placenta has moved? And that it is still functioning properly?
Will we be able to pay our bills?
Will we ever get a second vehicle?
Will we ever get the brakes fixed on our first vehicle?
Will I get treated special on my 35th birthday next week?
What about Mothers Day?
If I'm so much smaller with this pregnancy, why am I getting new stretch marks?
Will the Canucks have a good playoff run?
Why did my daycare lady have to decide to close permanently at the end of May?
Will I be able to breastfeed this time?
Will Ruby EVER cuddle with me? Will my son be a cuddler?
Will he be a "good" baby?
Is this going to be as hard as I'm sure it's going to be?
Am I mistaking fatigue for depression? Or depression for fatigue? Or am I feeling both?
Can I do this?
Will I ever feel "ready"?
Does anyone have a crystal ball?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Strain
I went to the doctor today about my shoulder. I have been having such sharp, ripping, tingling pains in it so much lately. I was up half the night last night because of pain when I move even the slightest bit. In fact, I shed tears over it.
My doctor is a completely separate entity from the midwives that I see during pregnancy – but after explaining my pain to him he said that it is pregnancy related and it’s a muscle strain. As I figured. And there’s very little one can do about it. Also as I figured.
He was, however, very sympathetic as his wife recently had their second baby and they now have two that are 18 months apart. He said she had the same problem with her shoulder and that it is aggravated by carrying a toddler. Hers apparently got so bad he had to inject her muscles with something or other.
He suggested physiotherapy and/or massage and/or acupuncture. I’ve got a lead on a good acupuncturist in my area (thanks M) who also does deep tissue massage and I am going to book in with her ASAP.
I also mentioned in passing about my Symphisis Pubic Dysfunction and his heart really went out to me. He said that’s a terrible thing to deal with and that because I will have pain with every movement that I’d be having a hard time keeping my weight down.
Ring-a-ding-ding! Yes sir.
Although of course I got all defensive – thinking that I must look fat if he’s noticing that I can’t keep my weight down and I went on to tell him that I’d been hitting the gym 3-4 times a week and suffering with the pain afterwards because I NEED to do it.
Anyways, I just want to say that I feel very very sorry for people who suffer from chronic pain. It is terrible and takes a toll not only physically but also mentally. It is seriously dragging me down to be constantly hurting – even when doing the most menial of tasks (like rolling over in bed). I managed to get to the privacy of my car before I burst out in hysterical, pregnancy-hormone, over-tired, feeling-sorry-for-myself tears.
My doctor is a completely separate entity from the midwives that I see during pregnancy – but after explaining my pain to him he said that it is pregnancy related and it’s a muscle strain. As I figured. And there’s very little one can do about it. Also as I figured.
He was, however, very sympathetic as his wife recently had their second baby and they now have two that are 18 months apart. He said she had the same problem with her shoulder and that it is aggravated by carrying a toddler. Hers apparently got so bad he had to inject her muscles with something or other.
He suggested physiotherapy and/or massage and/or acupuncture. I’ve got a lead on a good acupuncturist in my area (thanks M) who also does deep tissue massage and I am going to book in with her ASAP.
I also mentioned in passing about my Symphisis Pubic Dysfunction and his heart really went out to me. He said that’s a terrible thing to deal with and that because I will have pain with every movement that I’d be having a hard time keeping my weight down.
Ring-a-ding-ding! Yes sir.
Although of course I got all defensive – thinking that I must look fat if he’s noticing that I can’t keep my weight down and I went on to tell him that I’d been hitting the gym 3-4 times a week and suffering with the pain afterwards because I NEED to do it.
Anyways, I just want to say that I feel very very sorry for people who suffer from chronic pain. It is terrible and takes a toll not only physically but also mentally. It is seriously dragging me down to be constantly hurting – even when doing the most menial of tasks (like rolling over in bed). I managed to get to the privacy of my car before I burst out in hysterical, pregnancy-hormone, over-tired, feeling-sorry-for-myself tears.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Feeling a bit better
Thanks, everyone, for your kind comments on my last post.
Things have improved a bit – as they always do, right?
Not sure if Steve read my post or if whatever was eating at him went away or whatever – but there has been a slight improvement. I am trying so hard not be bitchy and whiny all the time so he will be happier and in turn I will be happier.
I eased up at the gym a bit. Took a few days off and when I returned I tried to remind myself of my limitations and didn’t push too hard. I still get extra sore and stiff in the pelvis after I work out but if I take it a little bit easy then it's not quite as bad. And I'm not quite as exhausted afterward too. My shoulder is still a mess and I'm not sure what to do about it. Wondering if I trip to the doctor is in order or if that would be a waste of time since I can't take any pain killers and probably should avoid an x-ray. Not sure what else they could suggest.
Also – last night at the gym a random, nice looking guy stopped me to compliment me on my sleeve and to discuss the color scheme, etc. It was the first time anyone has shown any interest in me other than to ask how old Ruby is or how far along I am. And oh how it lifted me up. It truly made my day.
I'm trying not to worry too much about the housework but that is really hard. I cannot stand to just let things go in my house. I need order and cleanliness. I am not a neat freak my any standard but I do like my house to be clean and tidy.
I don't want to let the small stuff get to me and so I'm really trying to just roll with things. It's hard.
Anyways, thanks again for your support during my “time of need”. It’s appreciated more than you know.
Things have improved a bit – as they always do, right?
Not sure if Steve read my post or if whatever was eating at him went away or whatever – but there has been a slight improvement. I am trying so hard not be bitchy and whiny all the time so he will be happier and in turn I will be happier.
I eased up at the gym a bit. Took a few days off and when I returned I tried to remind myself of my limitations and didn’t push too hard. I still get extra sore and stiff in the pelvis after I work out but if I take it a little bit easy then it's not quite as bad. And I'm not quite as exhausted afterward too. My shoulder is still a mess and I'm not sure what to do about it. Wondering if I trip to the doctor is in order or if that would be a waste of time since I can't take any pain killers and probably should avoid an x-ray. Not sure what else they could suggest.
Also – last night at the gym a random, nice looking guy stopped me to compliment me on my sleeve and to discuss the color scheme, etc. It was the first time anyone has shown any interest in me other than to ask how old Ruby is or how far along I am. And oh how it lifted me up. It truly made my day.
I'm trying not to worry too much about the housework but that is really hard. I cannot stand to just let things go in my house. I need order and cleanliness. I am not a neat freak my any standard but I do like my house to be clean and tidy.
I don't want to let the small stuff get to me and so I'm really trying to just roll with things. It's hard.
Anyways, thanks again for your support during my “time of need”. It’s appreciated more than you know.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Everybody has their own problems
I’m tired. I’ve never been this fatigued in my entire life. Some days I have no idea how I’m going to make it through to the end of the day and I can’t help but to cry.
My body hurts. I am so envious of normal pregnant people who’s bodies don’t fall apart on them during pregnancy. I suffer from SPD and it has already gotten quite uncomfortable. I’ve also done something to the muscle in my shoulder. I suspect it’s from carrying around a 14 month old girl who CAN walk but doesn’t have full confidence in herself yet so she doesn’t do it unless she does it accidentally. The shoulder is painful mostly when I’m in bed at night. I have woken up yelling out in pain. It feels like Steve is jabbing a dagger into my back (although I’ve never actually seen a weapon, I’m not entirely convinced that he’s not). Also painful at night is rolling over in bed, thanks to the SPD.
I am horrified at my body right now. Yes, I have a baby belly but below the bump is a large deposit of disgusting fat. My stomach is grotesque. My skin is stretched from having Ruby and my fat just hangs off of me. It hangs OVER me. I am extremely self conscious of myself. I see people looking at me and I think they are probably wondering if I’m fat or pregnant. It’s probably hard to tell even though I’m 22 weeks. I have never felt so unattractive in my entire life.
Steve is either disgusted with me or he doesn’t like me anymore or he’s got other things on his mind because he mostly just ignores me. What I wouldn’t do for a little bit of comfort or understanding from him. A shoulder rub? A foot rub? A hug for Christ sake! Anything whatsoever? Nothing. When I tell him something he usually doesn’t even acknowledge me. Seriously – I talk to him and he doesn’t even look at me half the time. Then he gets annoyed if I repeat myself to him. It makes me feel very lonely even when I’m not alone. Who else do I have to lean on if not him? Conversation is minimal unless it’s about Ruby. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a kickass dad. He’s hands on with Ruby and he’s really good with her. Is it pathetic of me then to want more from him? For me? I want him to show me that he loves me and that he appreciates what I’m going through. I wonder if he takes me for granted. I am pretty sure he thinks I’m just a giant bitch because I ask him to do things that he doesn’t feel like doing. Or because sometimes I get frustrated when the house is a disaster zone, or the TV is too loud, or the counter is covered with dirty dishes and the dishwasher is full and I need to make us dinner. I’ll throw a fork in the sink or slam a cupboard or something out of frustration and he sneers and laughs at me and shakes his head like I’m the biggest fucking loser he’s ever met. It’s degrading to me and makes me feel like losing my fucking mind.
I go to the gym every other day in hopes of keeping my weight from skyrocketing and to also to keep my mental health in check. Yes, it helps my mental health but my lord it does a number on my body. When I go in the evening and then come home and shower and go to bed, I usually get up in the night to go pee and many times I have almost collapsed from the pain in my pelvis. That has happened a lot actually. And the shoulder pain is always worse on gym nights too. I wake up crying from pain and Steve rolls over and ignores me.
I weep a lot. I find it so frustrating to have so little energy and being so uncomfortable all the time and to still have to work full time and take care of my girl and to keep a decent house and to exercise regularly. I know I could be a better mom to Ruby if I wasn’t so exhausted and that makes me sad and even more frustrated. I just want to feel good. I want to be happy. Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m getting depressed.
I'm putting it here because I need to get it out. I can’t talk to Steve and I don’t like to burden people with my shit because hey, everybody has their own problems. Who am I to complain about my life? Boo fucking hoo.
My body hurts. I am so envious of normal pregnant people who’s bodies don’t fall apart on them during pregnancy. I suffer from SPD and it has already gotten quite uncomfortable. I’ve also done something to the muscle in my shoulder. I suspect it’s from carrying around a 14 month old girl who CAN walk but doesn’t have full confidence in herself yet so she doesn’t do it unless she does it accidentally. The shoulder is painful mostly when I’m in bed at night. I have woken up yelling out in pain. It feels like Steve is jabbing a dagger into my back (although I’ve never actually seen a weapon, I’m not entirely convinced that he’s not). Also painful at night is rolling over in bed, thanks to the SPD.
I am horrified at my body right now. Yes, I have a baby belly but below the bump is a large deposit of disgusting fat. My stomach is grotesque. My skin is stretched from having Ruby and my fat just hangs off of me. It hangs OVER me. I am extremely self conscious of myself. I see people looking at me and I think they are probably wondering if I’m fat or pregnant. It’s probably hard to tell even though I’m 22 weeks. I have never felt so unattractive in my entire life.
Steve is either disgusted with me or he doesn’t like me anymore or he’s got other things on his mind because he mostly just ignores me. What I wouldn’t do for a little bit of comfort or understanding from him. A shoulder rub? A foot rub? A hug for Christ sake! Anything whatsoever? Nothing. When I tell him something he usually doesn’t even acknowledge me. Seriously – I talk to him and he doesn’t even look at me half the time. Then he gets annoyed if I repeat myself to him. It makes me feel very lonely even when I’m not alone. Who else do I have to lean on if not him? Conversation is minimal unless it’s about Ruby. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a kickass dad. He’s hands on with Ruby and he’s really good with her. Is it pathetic of me then to want more from him? For me? I want him to show me that he loves me and that he appreciates what I’m going through. I wonder if he takes me for granted. I am pretty sure he thinks I’m just a giant bitch because I ask him to do things that he doesn’t feel like doing. Or because sometimes I get frustrated when the house is a disaster zone, or the TV is too loud, or the counter is covered with dirty dishes and the dishwasher is full and I need to make us dinner. I’ll throw a fork in the sink or slam a cupboard or something out of frustration and he sneers and laughs at me and shakes his head like I’m the biggest fucking loser he’s ever met. It’s degrading to me and makes me feel like losing my fucking mind.
I go to the gym every other day in hopes of keeping my weight from skyrocketing and to also to keep my mental health in check. Yes, it helps my mental health but my lord it does a number on my body. When I go in the evening and then come home and shower and go to bed, I usually get up in the night to go pee and many times I have almost collapsed from the pain in my pelvis. That has happened a lot actually. And the shoulder pain is always worse on gym nights too. I wake up crying from pain and Steve rolls over and ignores me.
I weep a lot. I find it so frustrating to have so little energy and being so uncomfortable all the time and to still have to work full time and take care of my girl and to keep a decent house and to exercise regularly. I know I could be a better mom to Ruby if I wasn’t so exhausted and that makes me sad and even more frustrated. I just want to feel good. I want to be happy. Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m getting depressed.
I'm putting it here because I need to get it out. I can’t talk to Steve and I don’t like to burden people with my shit because hey, everybody has their own problems. Who am I to complain about my life? Boo fucking hoo.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Better
When I picked Ruby up from daycare yesterday I was told that she had a good day and that she’s a good girl. And that perhaps the operator of the previous daycare should rethink her profession.
Ruby napped, she laughed, she smiled, she danced. She did not cry for more than a few minutes in the morning after I left because she was given a bit of TLC to comfort her and make her feel loved and cared for.
I cannot tell you the huge sense of relief I felt upon hearing those words.
This officially confirms it – I am not the mother of a closet daycare demon, just a little girl who gets a little bit nervous when her mom leaves her with someone new in a unfamiliar place. And I'm pretty sure that’s fairly standard for a one year old.
As a result, today I didn’t cry at my desk for 3 hours in the morning. My shoulders do not ache. My head does not feel like it might explode. My eyes are not nearly swelled shut. My heart doesn’t feel like it has been ripped from my chest. I haven’t even contemplated telling my boss how I really feel about this job and just what she can do with it.
Today feels better.
Ruby napped, she laughed, she smiled, she danced. She did not cry for more than a few minutes in the morning after I left because she was given a bit of TLC to comfort her and make her feel loved and cared for.
I cannot tell you the huge sense of relief I felt upon hearing those words.
This officially confirms it – I am not the mother of a closet daycare demon, just a little girl who gets a little bit nervous when her mom leaves her with someone new in a unfamiliar place. And I'm pretty sure that’s fairly standard for a one year old.
As a result, today I didn’t cry at my desk for 3 hours in the morning. My shoulders do not ache. My head does not feel like it might explode. My eyes are not nearly swelled shut. My heart doesn’t feel like it has been ripped from my chest. I haven’t even contemplated telling my boss how I really feel about this job and just what she can do with it.
Today feels better.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Starting over
I got Ruby into a new daycare. She starts in January. My fingers are crossed that it is going to work out for her. I think it might. When the woman met Ruby she started talking to her and Ruby gave her a big grin and giggle. When I brought her into the daycare I plunked her onto the floor and she immediately dug into a bin of toys and started playing. There was another little girl there who was a bit older than Ruby and they actually started passing toys back and forth to each other. Such a miracle considering Ruby is so “poorly socialized”. *growl* Ruby was also handing toys to “P”, the new daycare lady. She had absolutely zero hesitation interacting with P. Of course, I was there but still, it just had a different feel from the first daycare.
P is a very calm, soothing, seemingly kind woman. I think Ruby liked her.
I liked her. We talked about the “issues” that the other daycare had with Ruby. P seemed horrified. She said that Ruby can have two naps a day if she wants and she can take them whenever she likes. She said that Ruby is at the age of having some separation anxiety and she has no problem giving her some extra attention if she is sad when I leave. She won't kick her out if she isn't fully adjusted within 5 days. She also won’t get annoyed if Ruby poops more than once a day. She currently only has 2 other children in her care so she will be spread less thin than the other bitch who had 5.
The place isn’t the fanciest. The house is old and the daycare area hasn’t been updated in some years. I’m sure this would turn some people away. But I found it to be clean and Ruby was quite comfortable there. And sometimes it’s the heart that’s more important. In this case, it certainly is. It’s a little more expensive than the last daycare as well and she doesn’t provide any snacks. But if it’s a place where Ruby feels comfortable and happy and is well cared for then that’s all ok with me.
For the remainder of the month Ruby is being bounced from friend to grandparent to grandparent, and I have modified my work hours somewhat to make things work.
The past two weeks have been an extremely stressful time and I’ve really struggled. On one hand it’s a good thing that this happened during the Christmas season because people have been able to look after her due to being on Christmas holidays – but on the other hand it’s been a bitch trying to deal with Ruby’s birthday, the basement tenants (who are gone now but left some “issues” behind), trying to get into a groove with returning to work, and uh… oh yeah, CHRISTMAS and all that goes along with trying to prepare for that. Throw in there that I’m now 15 weeks pregnant and I’m just so totally exhausted both mentally and physically. I vowed that I was going to enjoy my Christmas this year but it’s been hard to get into the spirit with all that’s been going on.
Tomorrow is my last day of work this week and I only work 3 days next week. I’m hoping the extra time off will help to relax and rejuvenate me. And I have my fingers crossed that January lives up to it’s reputation for being the perfect time to get a fresh start. A fresh new start is just what we need.
P is a very calm, soothing, seemingly kind woman. I think Ruby liked her.
I liked her. We talked about the “issues” that the other daycare had with Ruby. P seemed horrified. She said that Ruby can have two naps a day if she wants and she can take them whenever she likes. She said that Ruby is at the age of having some separation anxiety and she has no problem giving her some extra attention if she is sad when I leave. She won't kick her out if she isn't fully adjusted within 5 days. She also won’t get annoyed if Ruby poops more than once a day. She currently only has 2 other children in her care so she will be spread less thin than the other bitch who had 5.
The place isn’t the fanciest. The house is old and the daycare area hasn’t been updated in some years. I’m sure this would turn some people away. But I found it to be clean and Ruby was quite comfortable there. And sometimes it’s the heart that’s more important. In this case, it certainly is. It’s a little more expensive than the last daycare as well and she doesn’t provide any snacks. But if it’s a place where Ruby feels comfortable and happy and is well cared for then that’s all ok with me.
For the remainder of the month Ruby is being bounced from friend to grandparent to grandparent, and I have modified my work hours somewhat to make things work.
The past two weeks have been an extremely stressful time and I’ve really struggled. On one hand it’s a good thing that this happened during the Christmas season because people have been able to look after her due to being on Christmas holidays – but on the other hand it’s been a bitch trying to deal with Ruby’s birthday, the basement tenants (who are gone now but left some “issues” behind), trying to get into a groove with returning to work, and uh… oh yeah, CHRISTMAS and all that goes along with trying to prepare for that. Throw in there that I’m now 15 weeks pregnant and I’m just so totally exhausted both mentally and physically. I vowed that I was going to enjoy my Christmas this year but it’s been hard to get into the spirit with all that’s been going on.
Tomorrow is my last day of work this week and I only work 3 days next week. I’m hoping the extra time off will help to relax and rejuvenate me. And I have my fingers crossed that January lives up to it’s reputation for being the perfect time to get a fresh start. A fresh new start is just what we need.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)