We didn’t have the easiest night, I got about four or five hours of sleep but it was split into four chunks, so… yes I am writing this from the Starbucks closest to my house. I ran away from home for an hour or two (or as long as I can go until the boobs threaten to burst!).
It started like any day: I turned on the light and gave a bright, singsong “Good Morning” to the Tiny Tyrant. I changed his diaper and we played some peek-a-boo on his changing table and said goodbye to daddy. It was a great start to the day. I was even planning a post in my head about how it is impossible to be sad around my baby in the morning. He gets so excited about each and every day. There’s a lesson in that for someone less medicated and/or more caffeinated than I am.
His early morning nap is usually only about 30 minutes and then he’s up for an hour or two. This morning after his nap and 2nd breakfast he fell back asleep on my shoulder as I was burping him. There’s nothing better than a baby falling asleep on you. They go boneless and it’s the sweetest weight in the entire world. So I just settled back into the love seat and turned on White Collar Season 4 on iTunes.
I had every intention of sleeping when he slept today. I was also going to finish the laundry and do the dishes. I was going to make sure he had tummy time and we were going to have story time today too. Instead he slept through until he was hungry again, I fed him and he fell back asleep. Somehow I ate an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s and fell asleep as well.
Of course when we woke up I had missed my pumping time by over an hour and he had a full diaper and I had a full bladder. He had slept too much and I had slept too little and was feeling guilty for not doing anything all day. I fed, I changed, I burped, I prayed that he would go back to sleep for just 20 minutes so that I could pump.
I ended up putting him in his crib and turning on the mobile. That entertained him for about 3 of the 20 minutes it takes me to pump. The rest of the time he was screaming. And I let him. I just sat there and pumped and stared at the door to his bedroom and wondered how we had gotten SO off schedule. Eventually he cried himself to sleep (which I had promised myself that my son would never have to do) and I gave up on the day.
To manage my PPD I need a schedule. I need sleep. I need to take my meds. I need to feel like I’ve accomplished something during the day – even if it is only making sure that my son has tummy time. Today I fell down on the job and I feel it. Guilt is a soap scum that is coating my day. All I can do is try to scrub it off by telling you all about it.
The amazing thing about being alive is that you continually get another chance. The amazing thing about Tiny Tyrant is that he doesn’t care that we didn’t do anything but sleep all day. Or that I ate all that ice cream and watched TV instead of doing housework. He’s even forgiven me already for leaving him to cry while I pumped. (When I will forgive myself for that I can not say.) Before I left I nuzzled his neck and kissed his chubby cheek and he said, “Mommy, I love you so much, unconditionally, just the way you love me”. It only sounded like “Goooo” to everyone else.
So tonight might be a little rough because he slept so much today, but we’ll get back on track tomorrow with the help of Dork Dad. I will try yet again to be the woman that he sees when he gazes up at me with those beautiful eyes. And I will try to love myself with the purity and sweetness that he does.
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