It's 4:30 am right now and I have just finished feeding Camille and putting her back to sleep. Actually, I finished doing that 15 minutes ago and decided that this would be a good time to pump real quick. I was uncomfortable to begin with it so it would allow some relief and the apartment is quite which means I could maybe get some time for myself. I know that Camille will wake up in about 3 more hours but will then take a good 2 hour nap if I put her in her swing, so I could use that time to sleep. But right now? The phones aren't rining, everyone is sleeping and the cruel realization has finally hit. If I'm ever going to be able to do anything that I liked to do before the baby came, I'll either have to yell and shout to get a moment, or just wake up super early to do it. I haven't touched my hobby for weeks. Five weeks to be specific and the only way I was able to get some me time this weekend was to have a meltdown dramatic enough to make D realize that yes, maybe she does need a break. Of course I was supposed to leave at 8 pm to do so but the baby wasn't cooperating with these plans so my "me" time was now minus one hour. I didn't even step out of the apartment until 9 pm. At times I become very jealous of D. His life, when it comes to his hobby's haven't changed much. The sole responsibility of the baby doesn't fall on him, it falls on me. He can still sit at the computer at night and play online with the guys and chat. He still has a piece of his identity. I feel like I've lost a huge chunk of mine. I'm still responsible for all the normal household things plus another complete human being on top of that. Right now if I had to grade myself I think I'd have to give myself a C-. Laundry isn't getting done in a reasonable time and I still haven't swung grocery shopping yet leaving us scrambling for dinner on most nights. Vacuuming is easy to do because when the baby is screaming I can turn that on and she tends to stop, or atleast I think she does, with it being so loud, you sometimes can't even tell. But everything else is getting done in a half-ass kind of way and I tend to not be a half-ass kind of person so you can imagine my frustration. And as far as squeezing things that I actually enjoy doing in there? Well, let's just say that my scrapbook is 10 months behind, I finally started working on the birth announcements this weekend and due to lack of "me" time, I bought the rest of my thank you cards rather than hand making them. That alone made me very frustrated. I love making cards, it's therapeutic for me, but I can't even catch a moment to sit and do them without getting interrupted so I simply gave up. I would sell my left thumb right now for uninterrupted time, a luxury D gets to enjoy and would never realize how precious it is until it's gone.
I think when it all boils down, the conclusion that I have come to is that something has got to change here in order for me to be a whole person again. Right now I'm not. Right now I don't even recognize the person I see in the mirror each morning. I've been struggling with this for a few weeks now and have been hoping that if I just stuff it down it will just all go away. I keep reminding myself of the women who struggle with infertility who would change places with me in a heartbeat. I tell myself to stop being such a cry baby and deal. I also think of the handful of women that I know who just had their baby's and who are in motherhood bliss. They don't complain like I do, they're perfectly happy. I need to be happy like them, how dare me.
These guilt tactics aren't working to well anymore.
I'm edgy. Very edgy. I'm trying not to be, I promise you that. I'm trying to be the person that everyone else needs and wants for me to be. I'm trying to keep my chin up and keep a nice big smile on my face but deep down inside, at this very moment, I want to hide and just do some me things. Maybe go get a cup of coffee by myself, work on my scrapbook pages uninterrupted, get my eyebrows done which have gone untouched for months now. I just need to try and resemble the person I liked 5 weeks ago.
I am going on vacation soon to Florida. This usually makes me thrilled and full of anticipation. But I could care less. If anything it's stressing me out. Just choosing the week to go felt harder than labor and resulted in spitting contest between D and I that you could not have imagined. I'm not going when I wanted to, I gave in and settled on a date so that to makes me a little frustrated. And? I turn 30 in 8 days and won't be spending it how I wanted to. Hmmmph.
Now, I don't want anyone to go commenting with any hint of the words Post Partum Depression. I simply just don't want any advice right now. I need to vent. I need to work through these feelings. And duh! It doesn't take a freakin genius to figure out what's going on here. I know what's going on here but what I don't know is how I'm going to fix it right now. I just need to vent, I just need to put it out there and work through it. There are people who read this and know me in real life, but I don't want to talk about it. I'm a prideful person and a perfectionist at that and talking about it makes me have to admit defeat over myself. I hate kicking my own ass here, but that's just what it is and I'll be alright. I promise.