The now

The view from the couch this week has been pretty great. I think I am finally in love with my daughter. I have always loved her, mainly because I had to, but now the emotions are starting to match the obligation. Forever is still a long time to be beholden to someone, but I did manage to make dinner twice this week-victory! Have I mentioned that anti-depressants are pretty much the best invention on the face of this earth? Someone once asked me this question "If you had to pick one modern day invention to put in the trunk of your car, what would it be?" I had a really hard time answering that question then. A telephone? A hairdryer? There is a seemly endless list of possibilities to this question, but they all seem to pale in comparison to the anti-depressant. The doctor said that I would take these for six weeks and then we would gradually wean me off of them. I am thinking about begging her to let me stay on them indefinitely...just kidding...kinda.

Small Steps

It dawned on this morning me that I find myself in the same place at the beginning of each week-on the couch still in the pajamas. Today, though, I made a conscious decision to remain this way. My goal is still to wash my face and put in my contacts, but if I never officially make it out of my pjs, I think I will be okay. It seems to me that no matter how much I sleep, I am still exhausted, so if I stay in my pajamas all day, I can sleep comfortably whenever the boss gives me a break. This is me trying to justify my slothiness.
So, I think maybe the anti-depressants are starting to work, because I have felt pretty even for the past two days. It also may be the fact that John has been home for the past 4 days. I choose to believe the latter out of desperation. Nevertheless, I was delighted with the boss yesterday. She went swimming for the first time, and she LOVED it. And she was absolutely adorable in her little swim suit. My heart was full for the first time in 6.5 weeks. And it overflowed into the morning. So the view from the couch finds the boss asleep in her swing, the cats sunning in the window, and me with a few quiet moments on my hands. I could get used to this, although I am still waiting for the bottom to fall out, but surely that is something every mother must feel on a daily basis.

I Love the Night Life

So here is how the night goes...well, I guess it really started this morning when I left John alone in the youth room to get a dough nut. When I returned I overheard snippets mentioning Memorial Day, no school, and movie night, and I immediately knew what was barreling towards me. I was powerless to stop it. Before I could throw my weary and war torn body between them, John had already declared a movie night at our house. Hello? 6 week old baby? Depressed, sleep deprived wife? Do I count for nothing? My invisibility was established. All I could do was to make it sound like it was a good idea. Please do not mistake me, I adore our youth. They are so laid back and so fun to be around. But I am weary and worn, and I think it is beginning to show.
But instead of taking a nap after church, I opted to pretend to be my old self for a couple of hours and go to the movies with my sister. It seems, though, everything I do now is tainted with the fact that at the core, I am still someone's mother, and no matter how long I am gone, I still have to go home again. It really lets the air out of the balloon.
When I got home, the boss was sleeping in her swing and the kids were already at the house. No rest for the weary, I suppose. I really did enjoy the kids, but again, I spent most of the time trying not to fall asleep and worrying about how tired I was going to be at 2 a.m. and if I was going to be angry or resigned at John during that time. John, on the other hand, was blissfully unaware of my internal monster while playing Guitar Hero and watching Family Guy. I felt my invisibility resolutely confirmed. I think John may have gotten a peek underneath the cloak when I sighed and ducked around him with a naked baby in my arms heading for a bath. He then took the kids home while I put the boss to bed, which was surprisingly and pleasantly easy. And then I got another sweet surprise when John came home and told me he would take care of her tonight. So, I am going to sleep upstairs, because I am painfully aware of every noise she makes at night-and she makes a lot. So, maybe I am not as invisible as I thought. I am keeping my fingers crossed.

Waiting

I was reading a blog today, and all my inadequacies became so apparent. Apparent-funny word choice since this all stems from my being a parent. Disgusting. This new mom was gushing about the day that her daughter was born. She went on and on about how she cried with joy about her daughter on a daily basis. I wanted to throw up a little bit, but at the same time a huge rock settled in my heart. What is that feeling? I just don't understand? Does she also experience hopelessness and anxiety at times or is that just me? I was going to pick the boss up from the parents house and I had to force myself not to turn around and drive home with my tail tucked between my legs. The whole way there, I just kept wondering if the anxiousness that I was experiencing was because I was missing her, and I held out a hope that my heart would surge when I saw her again. It did not, and that made me sad. This morning when I was wrapped in my husband's arms, my life was right again. There was no baby-just us and the cats and a bed with rumpled sheets. The dark cloud in the room was the fact that we could not stay this way. I wanted to lock the door and bury my head in John's chest and just forget that someone else relies on me. Sigh. Forever is such a long time.
So, the doctor diagnosed all this as postpartum depression. It was a relief to think that all these thoughts and feelings weren't just me having a bad attitude. I kept feeling like if I really wanted to, I could make myself feel better and really love this new life. Or, if I prayed enough, God would fill up the emptiness in my heart. I am so glad that God sent me to the doctor before I really began to doubt his sufficiency and my sanity. Two days and counting on anti-depressants. Let's hope they kick in soon.
So,

The Day

Today was one of those days. It was one of those days that causes mothers in American Literature novels to leave their families. And the thing is, the day isn't really going to end anytime soon. It started off so well too. The boss napped for two hours and I was able to clean stuff up and get myself ready. I actually felt like a good mother for a minute. Then, as soon as we got to Paula's the world came crashing down. She pretty much cried from the time we got there to the time we left. Goodbye Good Mom award. The afternoon consisted of projectile vomit, screaming and spit up. The worst of the afternoon was the moment in the grocery store when a woman complimented another girl on how beautiful her baby was and then gave me the "you-really-should-take-your-ugly-crying-baby-out-of-the-store-and-I-feel-sorry-for-you" look. It sucked. I hate babies who cry in stores. And I wished that I could run away. I wished I could be one of those mothers in those books who just leave their families and start a new life. The feeling has yet to completely leave me. I even thought about different places that I could go. Then I felt guilty about having those feelings. But the thing that I felt the worst about is that I would not be sad about leaving; I would only feel really, really guilty. In the end the guilt won, and I cried all the way home.
I tried to tell John this evening what was wrong with me. I tried to tell him that I felt completely alone in this whole being a mom thing, which I know is not true. He helps me out at times. I tried to articulate this as I was walking out the door, but I knew any explanation would not make any sense to anyone-including me. I feel like nothing I feel is valid or makes any sense, and yet, I can't shake the feelings. And sometime I feel like I am making myself feel this way and it would be so easy to just make it go away if I wanted it to. Am I just holding on to this for some sick reason? Why would I do that?
And as I write this, John snores on the couch without a care in the world, knowing that he is going to get a good night's sleep. God, I can't help but hate him so much. I can't pinpoint exactly why I hate him, but I think it has something to do with the fact that his life is essentially the same and my life...sucks. He gets to go back to his former self for most of the day while my former self is on death row with the cruelest warden. That makes me sad. Just sad.

Still in the pajamas sans the pants

I started this blog yesterday with the hopes of pouring out all my woes to the cyberworld. However, the boss had different plans for me, and while I set everything up, I didn't get a chance to post A.K.A complain. All my angst really boiled down to exhaustion. Just when I think I have the boss figured out, she comes up with a new trick. It's actually really annoying. So, yesterday as I was driving to pick up a friend, I was mulling over all the things that really make me tired-bad drivers, feeling empty, lacking patience, not having anything to wear, and the list really went on for awhile. It seemed everything and everyone that I passed was another thing that made me tired, and the thing that made me the most tired was cooing happily in the back seat-the monkey on my back. God is so good though, and he sent me fulfillment just when I needed it in the form on a friend. I think I just needed the presence of someone else in the house, someone willing to hold the boss, because, honestly, I just get tired of holding her constantly. I know as a brand new mother I should be just joyful to be cuddling and kissing her constantly, but my gosh, the show gets old. Don't judge me. I believe that plenty of women feel this way, but they are too afraid to say it because they believe that all their friends really are those mothers who are just overjoyed all the time to be taking care of this new completely dependent lump FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIFE. These are the thoughts that were overwhelming me yesterday. But the view from the couch today is completely different. It has something to do with the good day yesterday, the fact that the husband took the 3 a.m. feeding, and the boss looking so peaceful right now. So even though I have yet to get dressed, I really need to go to the bathroom, another feeding is looming in the near future, and I am essentially a prisoner at the moment, I feel pretty good.