Spotty Days

Now that Baby Bug has a full blown case of baby acne, I’m wondering if the same hormones that are messing with her body are the ones that are playing ping pong with mine. She woke up this morning with spots everywhere. On her cheeks, on her neck and even on the back of her head. I woke up crying. I hope it will pass.

It’s funny. I know I’m doing a good job being a mom. Baby Bug is getting chubbier every day. But the nursing just seems so unnatural sometimes. I guess I always thought I’d be like Brooke Shields in Blue Lagoon and the baby would find her way to my nipple all by herself. I didn’t realize how agonizing it would be to not be able to make your baby happy over and over and over again. Sometimes I feel like such a failure. I know I’m not. But it’s hard to not feel like one.

I figure it’s just hormones. Not full blown postpartum blues. Just a case of the neglatives. You know, when everything in your house seems dirty and if the cat throws up one more time in your favorite pair of shoes, you swear you are going to throw the cat out the window.

When Toby and I couldn’t agree on what design we should go with for our month-late birth announcements, I completely fell apart. I started questioning my whole identity. If I’m not a good designer any more, then who am I? Should I take my whole website down because I feel like my work is flat and I can’t figure out how to get my gallery pages back up? The doubts rained down on me like hail.

I know I’m a mom now and that is the best job I can ever have…but is that enough? Will I disappear into diaper-and-spit-up-land and be forgotten? And why am I so driven by praise? Isn’t doing what’s right for Baby Bug enough? Why do I feel like I need a cheering section just to get through the day?

Scared Crazy

I was going along so well. Yesterday, I was only slightly bored out of my mind doing all the laundry all day long and then… Kabamo!!! Last night the weepy creepies hit me like a mack truck at two in the morning. I don’t know what is wrong with me. The dark maybe? Am I scared of the dark? Is it because I like to sit in the dark and replay phone conversations I had earlier in the evening over and over in my head until parts of them get out of proportion like gobs of taffy being pulled and stretched?

Earlier, I was chatting with my sister-in-law, picking her brain like usual and I told her how the pelvic exams I’ve been getting every week are really uncomfortable and actually painful. In fact, last week, I had to grab the table behind my head to keep myself from jumping up and kicking my doctor in the face. Is this normal, I ask her? She says it is, but then casually mentions that pre-natal pelvic exams are a “walk in the park” compared to ones during labor. A walk in the park? At the time of the conversation, I just rambled on accepting this. Another thing she mentioned was that getting a cathetar (necessary for an epidural) can also be uncomfortable. That didn’t even phase me either… at the time.

But then this morning, I sat straight up in bed (cross legged because for some freaky reason that seems to be the comfortable position of the moment) and I FREAKED OUT!!!! A cathetar! A little needle with a balloon is going to go up my urethra!!!! Tears started streaming down my face, the snot factory switched into overdrive, shivers commenced, the brain raced in a million directions not making any sense at all. More painful pelvic exams every half hour!!!! Nurses with different sized fingers making different measurements and sometimes you can actually regress in dialation!!!!!

I am suddenly very very very very afraid! I thought I was going to be tough. I thought maybe I was super cool and had a very high pain tolerance. (Heh, I got a bikini wax at 8 months and didn’t even tear up. Take that!) But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m a total wus! I mean those pelvic exams are very horrible! I’m scared of my doctor. I’m scared that we don’t have a good relationship and it’s too late to change it. I’m scared that Toby is going to be disappointed in me when I’m not “a trooper” any more! I’m scared that everybody is going to read this and see what a real coward I actually am.

But I have to write it. Because I am the inside out woman. Everything in my head goes on the blog.

I tried to go on a chat room this morning to admit my secret cowardice to anyone anonymous. But it was a wash. Nobody wanted to talk to me. One woman just wanted to go on and on about her “five blessings” (her five kids) and how all their names started with the letter “K”. Another wanted to adopt one of her sets of twins because, sheesh, she has five, she can spare some…. It was interesting BUT I can’t relate! I think I’m better off just chatting with myself. Me! Me! Me!

So here’s my conversation with myself:

Hi Self.

hi.

What’s on your mind today? Why are you crying?

I’m scared! I’m scared out of my mind!!! I’m losing it!

That’s okay. Here, here, have a tissue. It’s totally normal to feel that way right now.

Really? But I was doing so good!!! Why can’t I be tough up to the very end? I wanna be stoic! I want to be a mountain woman. I want to skin rattlesnakes with my bare hands!

You feel this way because you’re human. You feel the whole rainbow of emotions, that’s what makes you special.

Snif. I like being special but but but… I wanted to be a super hero! That’s so much cooler than the snot factory. I want to wear tights and a cape and dash around. I want all the other pregnant moms to wish they were me.

Um… okay. Well I don’t think you need me. You seem to be entertaining yourself just fine. I’ll be here when you run out of funny stories. If you’re thinking about capes and tights, I think you’re okay.

But I like talking to you, don’t go away! I’m lonely and nobody gets me like you do!!!

Um, yeah. That’s why you’re crazy and they are not. Buck up. You’re going to be fine.

See this is why I have a blog.