We’ve been home for a little over two weeks. The first week Dork Dad’s parents were here and I thought I could totally rock this mom thing. Grammy and Pop Pop were not overbearing, but they were there when I needed someone to hold him because my incision was killing me, or I had to pee, or shower, or I just wanted to eat with both hands.
It was nice to have company as I slept in my chair each night. My incision hurt waaaaaay too much when I laid out flat, so I’ve been sleeping in the oversize chair in our living room. Grammy slept on the couch next to me and Andrew was usually in his pack and play infant sleeper – or in my arms.
Once they left my mom was here for a night. That’s a story for another time.
Then there were three. Dork Dad was home with us for another week. He worked from home in the afternoons and I got spoiled. I could shower. I could eat. I could pee. I could think about “I”.
Now we’ve been home alone for three days and it is quite possible that I am losing my mind. Although I don’t think I have post-partum depression I can now completely understand how it could manifest. I feel myself walking a slippery line between being ok and a total breakdown.
Mostly it’s because I have no idea what to do. I’ve read the books and the blogs and I’ve listened to all the older moms around me. None of them tell you how to make it through each day though. Add the insecurity to massive amounts of sleep deprivation for a person who needed 10 hours BEFORE she got pregnant and you have some… well… issues.
After a sleepless night last night and a diagnosis of Thrush this morning from Dr. K I was on the edge. We went to Starbucks and I got a Venti Mocha Chip Frappucino. WITH CAFFEINE. It was that or gin. I think I made the right choice.
When we got home I left him in the carrier because I am a horrible mommy and I got so many things done! I clipped coupons and made a grocery list for DD, pumped and prepared a bottle, stuffed the birth announcements into envelopes, started the dishwasher, sent some emails, checked Facebook and ate lunch. I didn’t wake him up to eat when I should have. I let him sleep and felt simultaneously guilty and relieved.
DD’s Aunt L is a baby nurse. She had commented on my self pitying morning Facebook post that maybe it was time for us to do some sleep training. That’s when I did the best thing I could have done today. I messaged her and asked her exactly HOW we were supposed to do that.
Here’s our conversation in case it can help anyone else:
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