I can’t link up with my beautiful friend Kim today for Secret Mommyhood Confessions. She is in the hospital getting better. And I am so proud of her. That, going to the hospital, is a crazy hard decision to make. Again, I am so proud of her.
I am still struggling myself. We have tweaked my medication. They have until Monday to work and then we try something new. We have upped others to help me get through the weekend. Thankfully I am feeling okay with the upped doses of anti-anxiety meds. If you see me, I might look a little drunk, but it’s okay by me. If this doesn’t do it the doctor says my next step is the hospital.
Won’t you lift up my friend Kim who has made this hard step? We are pulling for you. Get better for you, Chunky and you hubby, as well as all of us who love you.
I have been afraid of the dark as long as I can remember. I never slept without a light on. That light was often the overhead light.
It drove my dad crazy.
But I could taste the fear. The worst to me was when I forgot to do something outside and had to go out after dark.
I grew up on a small farm. We had a barn, which means we had barn cats. It was my job to feed them. I did not like my job. I put it off as long as possible. Especially when my dad told me I was feeding skunks in with the cats. Um, who wants to do that? Not me. I hated my job.
Fast forward a “few” years. Now that my husband is around I am willing to sleep without a light.
Go forward a couple more years and we have 2 of our girls. It is time to teach them to sleep on their own. Discussion, give them a light or make them learn from the beginning…
I chose incorrectly.
I chose with the light on the first time Caitlyn cried.
And now their overhead light is on every night.
So my fear is their fear.
*Patrice has been trained with her light off…hubby didn’t let me make that mistake twice.
I’ve been trying to come out of my blogging cave, to try and share where I am.
Earlier this week I realized I feel sorry for those expecting or with a new baby.
Now don’t get me wrong, I adore my kids and I am very thankful I had each one. But I feel sorry for the new mamas and daddys who don’t know how hard the road ahead of them can be.
The sleepless nights.
The learning curve.
The baby blues.
The potential for postpartum depression and anxiety.
Watching them growing up.
Feeling sorry to see one phase end and another begin.
I truly do feel sorry.
That’s my confession.
But maybe it’s the depression talking.
Patrice has been very different than I older two in one key feature…she has not liked tv or shown a preference for any character toys. The older two loved Barney.
Now let me say, my hubby and I are in the minority. We do not mind Barney. Not at all. But Patrice wanted none of it.
There is one characters I can’t stand…
So go ahead, guess who makes Patrice so excited she jumps up and down yelling “Yay.” And guess what mama has now bought several Elmo videos, some for now and some for her birthday? And guess what mama now has a Pinterest board to save Elmo ideas…yup, this mama.
*both images in this post were found on Pinterest
Patrice is showing many signs of being ready to potty train.
I am not ready.
She’s my baby, my last baby.
There is just something so grown up about potty trained, no more diapers.
Don’t get me wrong, no more diapers would be great. Changing them, let alone buying them, isn’t exactly good times. But back to me waxing poetic, Patrice is growing up so fast. It is cute and enjoyable to see all she is learning, but I’d like to keep my baby just a bit longer.
Plus, I’m not ready for all the energy potty training takes. First, have to teach her what a potty is, then get her to actually use it, then tell you she needs to use it and finally, asking for months on end, “do you have to go potty?
Patrice may be ready, but I am not!
Do you ever wonder if you have known something all along? Like there is no surprise where there should be shock?
I have written about postpartum depression and anxiety a lot since Patrice was born, but I have never tagged it as ppd, instead I have always called it just depression.
I think, since the beginning, I have known my soul wasn’t just being introduced to depression after Patrice’s birth. Depression has visited me several times over the years. Previous experiences with depression have been different in that they could be traced to events happening in my life; they were episodic. This time was different. Postpartum depression was the spring board, but the battle has reached much further.
The waves of depression and excitement keep crashing, again and again. They rob me of normal feeling, healthy interaction with everything in my life. The latest wave landed me in the hospital for the third time and has me out of work for a few weeks as my soul and psyche need to heal.
This additional time home is giving me time to rest and learn. I have a lot to learn about this journey with bipolar not otherwise specified (meaning it does not fit perfectly in with bipolar 1 or 2).
I am trying to learn as much as I can, so please send on bipolar resources you may know of. I am also considering trying a support group, though every fiber of my being says no, I don’t want that! My experience with mental health support groups have been in the hospital, which has been less than stellar. Have you ever gone to a support group? What did you think of it? Would you go again?
So, here is my confession. I took driver’s education twice. I failed it the first time.
I was too scared to get it right. I sailed through the book part, couldn’t pass the driving.
I got past it and have done fine driving down here. Even going from a small car to a large minivan. But lately, something has changed and I am back to always being nervous. I am always sure I am in the other person’s lane, even though any time I check I am right where I belong. I feel like I am always going too slow (though my recent ticket might tell a different story)…
I am just always scared. I know I have to get over it. Driving, and the traffic, are a fact of life. And I have done it fine for, ahem, many years. All evidence is that I am a fine driver…now to shut up the backseat driver in my head!
What are you suddenly afraid of? Or am I the only one that suddenly re-develops a fear?
We had a great time on vacation, we really did. The camping weather was perfect. And the wedding was lovely. The girls were good. And family helped so much while we were visiting.
But I personally, was ready to come home, by the end of the trip! And then it got extended a day when we had to replace all four tires on the camper!
My girls made me feel a little bit like a failure as a mom during the trip. They wanted to spend all their time with the aunts and cousins, Caitlyn didn’t even want to dance with me at the wedding. Patrice screamed if I held her, but was good for everybody else. We ran into some discipline problems that made me wonder if they are learning anything from us. I felt stressed as a parent, like I was failing the whole trip.
Now let me clarify, the family did not make me feel that way. To the contrary, they were very encouraging. It was truly uplifting and enjoyable to be with them.
Sometimes it is so hard to believe those around you instead of the voices screaming in your brain!
How do you deal with the thoughts in your head compared to the reality others see?
This week has been full of ups and downs. My anxiety has been really high, which normally signals a big crash into depression is coming. Thankfully that crash has not come, but yesterday the rapid cycling between really happy and depressed started coming. All of it makes me very tired.
I have been very little help at home. Except to be the resident sleeper. Especially yesterday. I laid down right after work, got up around bedtime and went back to bed in less than two hours and right back to sleep. Hubby did all the parenting.
Today I am more than a little anxious. I’ve already taken some meds for it and feel crappy about it. I can’t even handle parenting without help.
Now off to stare at the dirty kitchen that I can’t quite figure out how to clean…
And hope for a good birthday and mother’s day tomorrow…
My middle child is very touchy feely. She wants to be touching you at all times. I am not so much. I mean I was shocked when I hugged Kim more than once when I met her (she’s so wonderful Chuck Norris would give her a hug). Normally I am a one or no hugger. I like my space.
Sue, I’m sure, hates having her own space. She wants to hug all the time, touch all the time. And she keeps patting my, um, tatas. It makes me so crazy. I am done nursing, those are mine again. Hands off kid!
I have no idea what to do about this. She is so snuggly and cuddly. She always has been. She LOVED to be held as a baby, she lived in the moby style wrap, she would smile and giggle when she saw me get it out. She nursed the longest, and didn’t want to ever give it up. She would go through stretches where if I was visible she had to be nursing. I would hide in my room to get a break. Hide from my baby.
And now, my confession, I still hide. I go to my room when it gets to be too much. I hug once or twice but I often declare I am too busy to snuggle or hug. I need a break, she never needs a break.
Linking up with Kim.