blech

Horrible day today. I don’t really want to preserve it for the ages; let’s just say that my transitional depression (or postpartum depression, if you like) is in full bloom and I’m not seeing a whole lot of motivation to keep eating, drinking or drawing breath. I’ve been crying a lot and I can’t fall or stay asleep no matter how tired I get. The trigger was a horrid fight with my mother when I attempted to leave the house with Blake this afternoon; she’s almost immobile with sudden backpain and I wanted to go to one of those “Movies for Mommies” thing so I could finally see “Return of the King.” I was really excited about the idea of leaving the house & seeing the movie, also I thought it was one of the safest places for me to go on my first alone outing. Needless to say, my mother had other ideas. The fight was loud, wet, angry & awful – at the end of it I cried for an hour, convinced that I would be trapped in the basement for the rest of my psychotic life. I don’t feel all that better now, although now I can go for 40 minutes or so without crying.

It wasn’t the best day for this anyway. I’ve spent the last 3 nights trying to take care of Blake without waking the Boy and I’ve managed to turn myself into a sleep deprivation experiment. Even co-sleeping – touted by all the breastfeeding books as the least bother and the most natural – is making it worse. At least when the Sprout was in the stupid, stupid cradle and waking up every hour I wasn’t trying to sleep & keep him safe at the same time. I’m not the easiest sleeper, and trying to fall asleep when I’m balanced on the very edge of the bed, curled around the baby & hyperaware that any adjustment of the covers could smother him doesn’t work very well. Not to mention that even when we have the bed to ourselves, the Sprout isn’t the easiest baby to sleep with: he snorts & snarls & cheeps & thrashes & waves his arms like an opera singer, all without waking up. Needless to say, when I’m trying to sleep without smothering him, even the tiniest sigh wakes me right up again. I don’t think I’ve slept more than 45 minutes at a stretch since Tuesday. The depression doesn’t help – even when I get an hour off with the Sprout on another floor, I spend most of it feeling sorry for myself and very little of the time actually sleeping.

The good news, the only good news in fact, is that Blake is one month old today, and he’s almost ready to hold his head up.

he is oh-so-casual about his new feat of strength

(although he’s secretly pleased that we noticed)

- 0 comments/hedgehogs -

- Rocketbride's adventure of 1/08/2004 11:10:00 p.m.