There are ups and there are downs. You think about that commonly used saying and think they are two separate things. They are not. Nope. You have to have one to have the other. Right?
And on a roller coaster, you aren't sitting at the bottom thinking how awesome/bad it is to be at the bottom. You are thinking about the high and how hard it is to climb that or how long it takes. And when you are high up, you are thinking about falling.
I have had hills and valleys as easily as the wind changes this past week. Feelings of anxiety and complete despair. Uselessness and overwhelmed. I felt like a failure and like things would never be perfect enough. Then... the fog cleared easily. As quickly as it came. My list of overwhelming tasks was replaced by excitement about a tea party baby shower, my berry picking, and my husband and baby. Kris heard me, after a mental breakdown which had almost as much snot as tears. It was a mess. He just looked at me and said, "well you gave me a list. It's my list now. You don't need to worry about my list. I'm going to do that. You do what makes you happy and healthy for the baby."
Least said, that was exactly the right thing to say. And off the shackles (self imposed btw) fell off. I was able to relax and enjoy the weekend. I ate myself sick on berries and enjoyed the husband I always lose for days what he's very ill with a migraine. Sigh...
And then today. My birthday. What I usually feel......... isn't there. I don't want for the same things. I don't need the same attention. I actually preferred silence today. My routine and my quiet. In fact, Kris wanted to take me to a movie but he was falling asleep. He was tired. He got home early (meaning got up early (apparently from allergies, but still)). He was being so sweet. SO... we took a nap. It was great to just cuddle with him. Grace was very awake so... I was less than successful falling asleep right away. Eventually I did. And then Kris, who burns like the sun, had me in sweats... so that perfect happy bubble burst.
Side note, with the bedroom closed, I'm certain that he and his body alone makes it muggy like a green house in there. I have two fans going most of the time, even more so now that I'm overheating with baby all the time. In fact, I overheated this morning... in light pajamas... on my exercise ball... in my chilly house... with the windows open. Some days I feel like a sweaty hormonal teenage boy. Or maybe I just smell like one. I use deodorant. I wash often. I've reverted to frequent towel bathing to save the planet from 10x/day showering. Yay me! :S Really... I can change my shirt so frequently because of the sweating that we do laundry more. Oh and add to that that I pee so often that we change the tp at least 3x per week. I want to use a rag just for peeing.... but Kris is opposed at this point and frankly I don't have enough soft towels. Sand paper + vagina = no good.
I feel like maybe in a way I'm getting to know my baby's personality. She loves walks and moves when there's laughing and talking. She's reacted to food happily. She's active and STRONG. How can a 3 lb bundle that is so fragile be able to inflict so much discomfort? It's not like I thought. Though, when is it ever? I really should quit planning for what things will be like because they never are. But then again. Most of the time I'm pleasantly surprised that it's always better and if I'm disappointed, I deal with it. Ok changed my mind. I'll keep dreaming. Can't change my stripes :D.
And now. I'm off to bed. I prepare myself to wait ohhhhhh 1 to 2 hours to really fall asleep. Some nights it's my brain on hyper mode. Some nights it's not finding a comfy position. And every night it's her bouncing around awake in the safety of my refuge womb. I understand when scientists and anthropologists say that out of womb, the first nine months are still gestation. That's how long I'll have her in me, give or take. And I think that's how long it'll take to get over not having her in there anymore. I read so often other blog posts and books about mother's and their recovery. And I think... what crazy women.... don't they know all the things they should be doing to recovery for their baby. But alas. A post today revealed to me that duh, they know that. They don't do it anyway. In that sense, they make the ultimate sacrifices that they have been for months. So it's quite natural. They are programmed to think about the care of that baby, because their bodies are no longer in charge completely.
What will I do? Well I'd hope I'd eat well, rest, hydrate, be happy, shower, and walk. And from a lot of different mother's stories... that sounds like fairy tales. Kris being there will make most of it possible sometimes. But for god's sake. I wish I learn and manage, but the hormones and the postpartum mind have, well, a mind of their own. A blessing and a burden. And what a blessing to be burdened with indeed. Would I give up the blessing for the sake of fear of the burden? Never. I suppose that is what living is. A blessing and a burden. And what a blessing to be burdened with indeed.