I’m going to preface this post with this: This may be the worst possible time for me to be writing this blog post.
I’m exhausted. I’m overwhelmed. I’m 100% totally and completely emotionally drained. And I’m so incredibly depressed.
There. I said it. I know I’ve said that before. But it’s not getting better. And I feel like I’m suffocating. Before I get into the cutesy part of this post, let me explain.
But first, let’s look at a cute picture of baby girl:
Monday night I slept for 90 minutes. Total. Because she only slept for 90 minutes.
And there were so. many. tears. I’ve heard and read all of the advice in the world. So at this point, I’m not exactly looking for that. I am, however, accepting hugs, coffee and wine.
I literally wanted to drive myself to a hospital Monday night and ask for some sort of medicine to help curb my complete and total nervous breakdown. And I’ve never been so … so … vulnerable.
I spent most of the night on the phone with my mom, crying. I didn’t say anything and she didn’t say anything. She just listened to me cry. Because when you’re feeling that low and alone, you just want someone to be there with you. And I’m lucky enough to have my mom, my husband, and plenty of other people [my tribe!] to just listen to me cry.
On Tuesday the last thing I wanted to do was to be a functioning human being. But then the thought of staying home alone with both kids made me feel like I couldn’t survive. So I went to work. I went to my people. They listened. They heard me cry. They comforted me. And they didn’t make me feel crazy. They assured me that we’ve all had these feelings of “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
It’s not pretty. It’s ugly. It’s the worst. But the way you know you’re not crazy?? You know when to ask for help. And I did.
- She rolled over to her belly from her back. Aaaand immediately started to scream. Ha!
- Miss Bea has taken a bottle exactly one time.
- Related: I have donated about 300 ounces of milk and I have signed on to be a long-term donor for a local woman (because if Remy does decide to take a bottle, I’ll still have a gazillion ounces). It was so nice to meet her and to hear her story and share our beliefs and struggles with one another. And as someone who has accepted donor milk, it made me smile. All day.
- She still has zero teeth. My “teething-since-6-weeks” baby is still a gummy, hot, drooly mess! Ha!
- Babycakes weighs a whopping 12.5 pounds. Seriously. She’s tiny. It’s ok, and funny, but tiny.
- Ari has never been on antibiotics. Remy? Is on her second round. Because, UTIs.
- She thinks her brother is the funniest thing on the face of the earth. I’d share the video of her laughing — HARD — but it’s totally NSFW. Because it was of me and her in the bathtub! Haaaa!
- Her eyes vary from super blue to super hazel. I’m guessing she’ll have hazel eyes just like her brother. I don’t hate that.
- She responds to her name. It’s cute. And I honestly don’t remember if Ari responded to his name this early!
- I can’t believe it, but she can bring things to her mouth. She’s been doing this for the better part of the month, actually. She started just by bringing her binky to her mouth, regardless of what side it was or if it was the string. But now she actually moves it and puts it in the right way! Also, in the bathtub she grabs at the water I pour down on her. 🙂
- Girlfriend straight up hates not being held. I mean it. If ever there was a child that loved skin-to-skin contact, it’s her. I don’t hate it, but I could use a break from time to time.
My heart is still heavy, friends. It just is. So feel free to send hugs (and wine.. and coffee…) if you feel so inclined. But mostly just remember that YES we signed up for this; but that doesn’t mean it is without it’s struggles. And sometimes those struggles are bigger than us.