This is a journal entry from the darkness of night, 3/16. Not watching any TV means I am writing more. And doing so very honestly.
“I told myself I was much less anxious than before. But I had to admit today, I am still a little more than a little anxious. Chewing my lip until it’s raw. My nervous tell. The pediatrician reassuring me even though I didn’t ask her to. Irksome. No schedule so no expectations allowed. Except expectations want to sneak in and crash the party. Revelations try to overcome the sneak attacks. Rolling around in my head. Trying to do it right. Fearful that the next thing I eat or do or don’t do will cause me to get less sleep.
And then worrying about what to write. Don’t want to go on and on about baby stuff. More pictures and decorating and random thoughts and recipes. Something other. Not wanting the baby to take over when she already has.”
The next week, I pondered this anxiety and decided, all there was left to do is admit that I’m not in control. At all. And try to do my best and let go of the rest is the only plan that works. And to remember that this is a wonderful life I’m living and this sleep deprivation will pass. Fill that in with whatever misery is currently befalling you. And there will be a next. Day, month year, and this will all be a distant memory you will wish you were still living.
Love,
Shalagh
6 Comments
Brava, for posting and writing anything, Shalagh!! I think you’re selling yourself short. Write what you feel, what you need to write. Don’t worry about the pressure to produce the perfect thing, especially with sleep deprivation. Just do what you can. Great post! Who is ever in control…is anyone?
Thanks for the acknowledgement sister.That was March 15th when the hormones were whirling and the reality was settling and my esteem was being pummeled by the eight pound kitten known as Miss Fiona. I’m coming back strong there Amy. And I think sometimes we need to experience set backs to know the difference. Darn tootin’, writing about what I want. That’s why I put that one up. Not all about the perfect face after all.
Love,
Shalagh
Dear Shalagh, know that sleep deprivation has been driving me nuts for over a year, and I didn’t even have a baby.
How could you not share your baby stories with all of us, your a mother. Even I know to expect that. Fugettaboutit…..
No worries. That was where I was March 15, not anymore. I’m thinking it’s not the baby subject that will kill my audience, it’d be the ad nauseum mundanity of the stream of blah blah that would numb out my readership. So if baby is the subject, I promise (cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye) that it won’t be boring. And thanks for the words of kindness.
Love,
Shalagh
Ah the hell of hormones. I was feeling crappy and went to write in my “bad mommy” book where I write when I feel hateful. I read the first two pages of anxiety ridden stress and suddenly didn’t need to write anything new. The things I wrote in the first 6 months of motherhood were far, far worse than my current illness drama. And yet I barely remember the stuff I wrote down. I mostly remember the hallucinations from lack of sleep and the tiny warm bundle nestled against me while she slept/ate.
Anxiety blows, but you’re awesome for being honest and open about it. If I had blogged with a newborn every post would be “This has been a terrible mistake! I need to sleep! Someone help me! She’s so huuuuuungry.” 🙂
The wrong turn begins with your expectations and lack of forgiveness. It continues to go down wrong with attempting to fulfill others epectations. Slips further down the slope with the shame of your humanity. And your finished with the eyes burning(currently) and hallucinating that’s caused by the sleep deprivation. The journal entry was from 10 days in. And now at almost a month, I am still sleep deprived but I the only thing I feel guilty for is not getting stronger reading glasses before I snipped off Fiona’s finger tip in an attempt to clip her nails. Bad Mommy book is great.
Love,
Shalagh