The Parenting World is Frightening


Seriously tho. Other parents and other soon-to-be parents, across the generations are notoriously judgmental and condescending. This fact is compounded by the fact that social media is such a huge part of our lives, and with the ability to hide behind a computer screen, people feel the need to say anything that comes to their heads, without any consideration or tact (or regard for grammar or spelling).

It’s a disaster.

With our little Ace, i had an epidural. Not part of my plan. I was “supposed” to do┬áthis all naturally, my high pain tolerance working for me, and everything being challenging but feeling motherly, like a “true woman” and empowered, like everyone says you do. But, after writhing around in bed, ready to rip the bedrail off with each contraction (which were 1-3 minutes apart from the second my water broke, so i had that going for me at least), i asked, and they gladly gave it.
As a result, Ace’s delivery was amazing. I may definitely have not felt like a “true woman” in the sense everyone else refers to, but i felt like me. It took the experience from traumatic to “I might potentially want to have children again.” I pushed for half an hour and with the help of a small epis, Ace was here, in just over 9 hours. ­čÖé He was perky, lifting his head up and trying to nurse right away; a picture of perfection. Despite it being different from what i planned/wanted, he was here, and there was no signs of him being worse for wear. (Also, how can you truly know what you want, when you’re in the comfort of your home, NOT feeling like your pelivis is coming apart from the middle out, and you’re being impaled thru the back…every 1-3 minutes?)

The night we took him home, he refused to sleep in our room, or by himself at all for that matter; we found out later it was too cold. I was paranoid about co-sleeping in a bed; i was worried I’d be too comfortable and sleep too deeply already being so sleep-deprived. So i slept upright in a chair in the spare room for two weeks, and then i would sleep downstairs on the couch with him on me, and we’d sneak him down for naps in the pack-n-play in the living room. I started him sleeping up in his big crib in the spare room for naps at 3 weeks old because he was doing so well, and we were excited to return to our bed. That resulted in nothing but stress and crying (both him and me) and sleepless nights, every single night until finally, after i had spent the night with 2 and a half hours of sleep, at 6am, i took him out of the room. Marth asked if he could help and i said “i just want to f****** sleep.” And walked downstairs, turned on the tv, and we slept together on the couch until 9:30. It was then with a heavy heart at my progress going backwards, that i had to move BACK downstairs and start over again essentially. Not what we had planned, and i can hear the co-sleeping and lack-of-routine judgment already. But I NEED. F******. SLEEP. I wasn’t sure what else to do, as pride-crunching and frustrating as it was. (Is it even “right”??? I still don’t know.)

He breastfed amazingly, right from the start. Even the pediatrician told me I should give lessons. Until week 2, that is. It was like he’d never seen a boob before. It became BEYOND painful for me. When we were alone in the house, the two of us would sit and cry and sweat and struggle; it was awful, and i couldn’t believe this was happening. Long-story short, i switched to exclusively pumping, for the next 2 and a half weeks, which then caused us to over feed him and he was bloated and cranky. Even when we figured out the problem, and we started limiting him to an ounce an hour it resulted in him not getting enough hindmilk, so he wasn’t pooping enough and still always seemed hungry and like his stomach was upset.
Literally took me until last night at 10:30pm, after my husband had been holding him for an hour trying to get him to sleep, I attempted again to breastfeed him and braced myself.
It was nothing short of a miracle. For real tho; i couldn’t believe it. He latched instantly, and fed from both sides until he fell asleep.

Both of these situations summarize the last month for me in a nutshell: Having a plan, and an idea and doing research and wanting to stick to it, but ultimately changing in order to accommodate what works. I have no clue what I’m teaching him to be comfortable with, and i may be kicking myself later for teaching him bad habits i don’t even realize I’m doing, all because I’m young and clueless and tired.

I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen from here, but man, All this said and done, the last thing i want to do is be judged for any of it, or have anyone say “well, *I’M* going to do it this way…” (Emphasis on the tone; people are allowed to do whatever they want) but it’s just one of those things that you’ll have no idea about until you do it for yourself. I’m thankful that unless I’m in a crappy mood or sleep-deprived, I’m able to look at other parents/soon-to-be parents and give a beaming smile and say “well, this is why we were each given our own kids, so we don’t have to agree! ^_^ ” but other times it really brings me down and i just want to say “Oh, just you wait until yours are born/such-and-such an age, and you’ll find yourself making difficult decisions, and wanting to die too!” It’s far easier to say “oh, screaming is the only way they know how to communicate; you should be more patient with your poor baby, you should do _____, ______, ______ and ______ and maybe then you woulnd’t have these problems.” And I’m just like “AAAAAND MAYBE I SHOULD PUNCH YOU IN YOUR FACE AND THEN YOU WOULDN’T HAVE THESE PROBLEMS.”

The only thing that makes it better is learning that children are a cross that everyone will bear, because no matter how easy we make it look, how badly we want them, or how good of people we seem to be. Every parent will end up at a boiling point, no matter who they are or whether it’s their first or 9th child.

Parenting isn’t for the faint of heart. And I’m learning not to punish other parents with my words, opinions and judgments, because their children will do it for them, and far better than i can.
As each parent spends their own sleepless nights, and deals with the doubts, fears, and frustrations they cause, the issues other parents have with your decisions are the least of our worries.

So I’ve Picked up Blogging Again…


Wow, it’s been a long time. I don’t quite have a ton of time to update my entire life, so I’ll cut to the chase for right now. I am the Mummy of a 4-week-old little boy right now, and its definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever done. According to a quiz my insurance company gave me, I’m “moderately depressed”. As a result, i’ve been looking up a lot of inspirational mom quotes and intentions and such, to actively keep myself positive, because i really find myself frustrated daily with my child, and in tears at night because he won’t sleep. On particularly bad days when i finally allow my husband to help me, and i collapse onto the couch or bed between 6-10am after getting 2 hours of sleep all night, i find myself crying for hours, because it comes easier than falling asleep.

I’m not a fan of diagnoses. Call me stereotyping. Call me judgemental. But i am here because i at the very least, have heavy-duty baby blues, and i don’t want anyone knowing about it. At the very most, I have at most, moderate maternal depression, and i *definitely* don’t want anyone knowing about it. I don’t judge anyone else with mental or emotional illnesses, but i judge myself for them, and i don’t want anyone else thinking i need to be taken care of, or I’m going to hurt my child.

The reason I’m back here. I need to communicate my thoughts and hurts and frustrations in a place where no one i know in person will know about it. I want to see if taking this time for myself, even if it’s 20 minutes to midnight, will improve my attitude and my stress levels. If i can take a moment to climb myself out of the hurting, frustrating and tired hole i fall into thru out the day, and remind myself why i do what i do, and the big picture i face as a mom, which is totally worth everything i go thru in a day, I’m hoping…maybe it’ll make me a better person. Because right now…
– I won’t let anyone, including my husband help me, and he finally forces the issue when I’m bawling my freaking eyes out and begging my child to sleep. I won’t let any of my inlaws hold him when he’s cranky, and even when he’s not, i wait patiently for him to start crying or need something and i promptly take him back. I’m not showering, I’m not cleaning, I’m not doing anything for myself; I’m simply waiting until he needs something to resume my only focus for these last 4 weeks.
– I get frustrated with him, simply for crying or being awake, because then i actually have to think about what to do with him, and it’s always inconvenient times like 2:30 in the morning that he decides he’s going to be wide awake and/or start screaming because he pulled his own pacifier out of his mouth and doesn’t understand why it’s not there anymore or how to get it back. I’m frustrated with my 4-week-old. What the fuck is the matter with me?
– I’m basically waiting around to be medically cleared to work out again, for the weather to be warmer so we can walk outside more often, and for when we move on the 24th of this month, back to Maine with my family where we will have more support and basically be starting fresh. There’s nothing wrong with any of those things, except that I’m basically saying my happiness hinges upon my circumstances, and when things don’t go how i want, I’m going to allow it to get to me, until the things around me change. I’m absolutely crushed by this. I thought i was better than that.
– This isn’t as big a deal because it IS hard, but i can’t even get out of the house for a gallon of milk. Everything’s cold, everyone’s sick, and it wasn’t always something i had such a hard time with, but it is now. That makes me a little nervous, because i feel like in that aspect, I’m getting worse instead of better. In theory, i don’t mind, but the actual get-up-and-go is nonexistent.
Even worse than that, i don’t want anyone else over my house either. I want to be left alone.

That’s all i can think of off the the top of my head. I’m just…struggling hard, and I’m not comfortable letting people know on Instagram or Facebook. I’m content to post pictures of my perfect child, and be positive, happy and funny like i always am. Nobody need know anything else.

So that’s why I’m back.