while feeling blue.
I'm just saying.
I'm just saying.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Okay. Now what?
That is sort of what it feels like after you have a baby.
I went to the hospital today to get the lamest blood test- the PKU, on the baby. They poke and squeeze the shit out of their heel, dabbing blood on a piece of paper. I read there is a urine test that "we" don't do- I'm guessing because it is more fun to poke an infants heel and watch them scream.
Anyway, I am losing my train of thought- the newest member of my day to day...
I walked into the hospital and instantly felt like I could cry. It is all over.
The hubbub, the awesome chaos that is pregnancy. The whirlwind, the importance of what your doing, what you are holding in your abdomen. It's all over.
Now it's just me, walking in with a stroller.
What is that?
It's not like I wish I was still pregnant. I really don't. I just have this feeling of being dissatisfied.
In life?
Not really.
In my being a Mother?
Not at all.
It's just this low lying feeling, in the pit of my stomach that makes me ask "now what?".
I'm not sure.
I have three kids and a great husband, so it is not like I am missing anything.
I have a thought that maybe while being pregnant I was actively doing something that came to an end and now my mind is wishing, (needing?) something to put into the future to "work towards"?
Could be.
I feel like my first child saved my life. He absolutely did- and that is another blog entry for another day.
My second changed the game. Completely. She turned us upside down in the best way. We would not be who we are today without her.
And my last... hard to say. I feel like he is giving me a purpose in a way. He has forced me to write about this. He has given me a reason to tap into what plagues a lot of us, with the "baby blues" or PPD- there are so many levels or stages... maybe it's not that serious and maybe it could get that way. Either way, for me this is my therapy. I can afford it, I have time for it and maybe it will work.
I went to the hospital today to get the lamest blood test- the PKU, on the baby. They poke and squeeze the shit out of their heel, dabbing blood on a piece of paper. I read there is a urine test that "we" don't do- I'm guessing because it is more fun to poke an infants heel and watch them scream.
Anyway, I am losing my train of thought- the newest member of my day to day...
I walked into the hospital and instantly felt like I could cry. It is all over.
The hubbub, the awesome chaos that is pregnancy. The whirlwind, the importance of what your doing, what you are holding in your abdomen. It's all over.
Now it's just me, walking in with a stroller.
What is that?
It's not like I wish I was still pregnant. I really don't. I just have this feeling of being dissatisfied.
In life?
Not really.
In my being a Mother?
Not at all.
It's just this low lying feeling, in the pit of my stomach that makes me ask "now what?".
I'm not sure.
I have three kids and a great husband, so it is not like I am missing anything.
I have a thought that maybe while being pregnant I was actively doing something that came to an end and now my mind is wishing, (needing?) something to put into the future to "work towards"?
Could be.
I feel like my first child saved my life. He absolutely did- and that is another blog entry for another day.
My second changed the game. Completely. She turned us upside down in the best way. We would not be who we are today without her.
And my last... hard to say. I feel like he is giving me a purpose in a way. He has forced me to write about this. He has given me a reason to tap into what plagues a lot of us, with the "baby blues" or PPD- there are so many levels or stages... maybe it's not that serious and maybe it could get that way. Either way, for me this is my therapy. I can afford it, I have time for it and maybe it will work.
Somewhere between postpartum and "WTF now?"
That's where I am and I guess unless you have been here before you are thinking I am some kind of crazy.
This blog is about to get a little less lighthearted, so if you aren't into it- I bid you farewell.
Two weeks ago I had our third child and every ounce of the experience felt like the first.
It was just as exciting, we had the time of our lives. He is amazing, I am recovering from surgery well- all seems fantastic. Really- well, it should be.
A week to the day, my Grandfather passes. This is news I knew was coming. It hung like an unfortunate mistletoe... I thought of him everyday and my last wish was that he could meet the one who will pass on his name.
We named our son Zeke Ole Wild Daly.
Ole is my beloved Grandfather- he was so much more to me. To everyone who knew him and that was many.
My last wish wasn't granted, and you know that is just par for the course for me.
My Grandfather was very predictable, this is something I didn't inherit. I am not- neither are my wishes.
Maybe I wish for the wrong thing. I should've wished for a cure for Parkinson's Disease?
A week has passed since we lost him and I have felt Ole with me more so than at any other point in my life.
I can't stop crying.
I am not a crier. Something I did inherit from my Grandfather. I never once saw him cry.
I am sad that my daughter will never remember him, through her own memories.
It devastated me to have to tell my 11 year old son, who will remember that day forever.
It's not fair that my Grandmother is now alone, although I am sure there is a weight lifted, she will hopefully be able to enjoy that at some point, when all the madness ends.
I am also missing my husband, who has just called to tell me he has landed safely in Sydney. He and my son left yesterday, the boy to visit Grandparents in Arkansas.
Initially I had thought it would be okay to have them both gone, as my Mother would be here with me and the little ones. She is a great nurse, housekeeper and all around Grandmother- but with the passing of her Father, she had to go home- leaving me and the babies, reluctantly but I of course, insisted.
Now I am sort of regretting the trips I said were okay to take, although being forced back into reality is a good thing. A blessing in a way- it is going to happen eventually. I guess I go kicking and screaming, but I go.
I'm at a crossroads of sorts. I feel abandoned and tired and irritated and happy. I miss my friends, yet I don't want to see anyone.
I want my husband.
Which is interesting in itself. I am feeling for the first time in a long time (ever?) that he is now the backbone of this house. Maybe all this time, he is the one who actually makes it run best.
I don't give him enough credit.
I am somewhat bossy and a know-it-all at times. I feel like doing it all gave me that right and for some reason, right now, that seems so stupid, I can't put it into words.
So where do you go when you are in between PPD and WTFN?
I don't know.
Write, I guess.
I am going to write about it, incessantly. It is dripping out of me and I never have the time to talk about it and you know I am not sure what talking about it would do. If I talk about my Grandfather, I can't stop crying and so that's sort of "off limits" but the whole feeling of PPD is vague- I am not depressed. I don't need to be hospitalized but I am feeling the let down, the "can I do this?", the "what the fuck now?".
This blog is about to get a little less lighthearted, so if you aren't into it- I bid you farewell.
Two weeks ago I had our third child and every ounce of the experience felt like the first.
It was just as exciting, we had the time of our lives. He is amazing, I am recovering from surgery well- all seems fantastic. Really- well, it should be.
A week to the day, my Grandfather passes. This is news I knew was coming. It hung like an unfortunate mistletoe... I thought of him everyday and my last wish was that he could meet the one who will pass on his name.
We named our son Zeke Ole Wild Daly.
Ole is my beloved Grandfather- he was so much more to me. To everyone who knew him and that was many.
My last wish wasn't granted, and you know that is just par for the course for me.
My Grandfather was very predictable, this is something I didn't inherit. I am not- neither are my wishes.
Maybe I wish for the wrong thing. I should've wished for a cure for Parkinson's Disease?
A week has passed since we lost him and I have felt Ole with me more so than at any other point in my life.
I can't stop crying.
I am not a crier. Something I did inherit from my Grandfather. I never once saw him cry.
I am sad that my daughter will never remember him, through her own memories.
It devastated me to have to tell my 11 year old son, who will remember that day forever.
It's not fair that my Grandmother is now alone, although I am sure there is a weight lifted, she will hopefully be able to enjoy that at some point, when all the madness ends.
I am also missing my husband, who has just called to tell me he has landed safely in Sydney. He and my son left yesterday, the boy to visit Grandparents in Arkansas.
Initially I had thought it would be okay to have them both gone, as my Mother would be here with me and the little ones. She is a great nurse, housekeeper and all around Grandmother- but with the passing of her Father, she had to go home- leaving me and the babies, reluctantly but I of course, insisted.
Now I am sort of regretting the trips I said were okay to take, although being forced back into reality is a good thing. A blessing in a way- it is going to happen eventually. I guess I go kicking and screaming, but I go.
I'm at a crossroads of sorts. I feel abandoned and tired and irritated and happy. I miss my friends, yet I don't want to see anyone.
I want my husband.
Which is interesting in itself. I am feeling for the first time in a long time (ever?) that he is now the backbone of this house. Maybe all this time, he is the one who actually makes it run best.
I don't give him enough credit.
I am somewhat bossy and a know-it-all at times. I feel like doing it all gave me that right and for some reason, right now, that seems so stupid, I can't put it into words.
So where do you go when you are in between PPD and WTFN?
I don't know.
Write, I guess.
I am going to write about it, incessantly. It is dripping out of me and I never have the time to talk about it and you know I am not sure what talking about it would do. If I talk about my Grandfather, I can't stop crying and so that's sort of "off limits" but the whole feeling of PPD is vague- I am not depressed. I don't need to be hospitalized but I am feeling the let down, the "can I do this?", the "what the fuck now?".
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Zeke Ole Wild Daly
He's here. We did it.
We have successfully brought another awesome human into this world.
Looking at this kid, I just melt like he was my first. I can't help but want to hold him every second and squeeze my other two that much harder every day.
I am seriously the luckiest Mom. I have fantastic kids, a rad husband... I am floating.
Happy birthday Zeke. You are so loved.
We named him after our favorite band. My Grandfather, Ole and Wild is because he is wild at heart. I can just tell.
6.12.12
8 lb 11 oz
18 3/4"
9:31 a.m.
We have successfully brought another awesome human into this world.
Looking at this kid, I just melt like he was my first. I can't help but want to hold him every second and squeeze my other two that much harder every day.
I am seriously the luckiest Mom. I have fantastic kids, a rad husband... I am floating.
Happy birthday Zeke. You are so loved.
We named him after our favorite band. My Grandfather, Ole and Wild is because he is wild at heart. I can just tell.
6.12.12
8 lb 11 oz
18 3/4"
9:31 a.m.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Dude.
I'm tired.
Like, I pulled into the Target parking lot and Elvis was content watching... what was she watching?
and I actually drifted off. It was most likely for a minute or two but it scared me. I am really fucking tired.
Wow.
Right now I should be doing this or that and all I can do is sit here in the office, where I just made a bed for E's "dolly-dolls" and now I am typing just to pass the time.
No offense.
If I sit on the couch, I will fall asleep.
If I go upstairs, I will fall asleep.
Shit, if I go for a drive, I will most likely fall asleep.
You would not believe that I am typing with my eyes closed. But I am.
What do I do? What does one do? It's dinner time, I have no back up- if I order pizza one more time I will kill myself.
I'm complaining. I shouldn't. I should just go strangle my doctor and tell him if he doesn't give me something to sleep I will be his worst fucking nightmare next week when he delivers me.
If I don't get some sleep soon, I am going to start crying publicly, whenever I get a chance.
Like, I pulled into the Target parking lot and Elvis was content watching... what was she watching?
and I actually drifted off. It was most likely for a minute or two but it scared me. I am really fucking tired.
Wow.
Right now I should be doing this or that and all I can do is sit here in the office, where I just made a bed for E's "dolly-dolls" and now I am typing just to pass the time.
No offense.
If I sit on the couch, I will fall asleep.
If I go upstairs, I will fall asleep.
Shit, if I go for a drive, I will most likely fall asleep.
You would not believe that I am typing with my eyes closed. But I am.
What do I do? What does one do? It's dinner time, I have no back up- if I order pizza one more time I will kill myself.
I'm complaining. I shouldn't. I should just go strangle my doctor and tell him if he doesn't give me something to sleep I will be his worst fucking nightmare next week when he delivers me.
If I don't get some sleep soon, I am going to start crying publicly, whenever I get a chance.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Maybe it's been too long...
I haven't written in what feels like years. There has been so much going on in my life, not "busy work" but real "take every ounce of your energy" work- that and I have a family to run.
I could bore you with what has been going on and that would be one of the last blog posts you would read, I'm sure. If I even have any readers left. Either way, life is pretty fucking good.
I am due to give birth, to what will most likely be my last child. Up until the last week or so, I have been totally fine with that concept. That reality. But now, I makes me sad.
I don't want to have more kids, just the knowing that this is the last time I will experience all of this, is a little heavy.
A lot of things are heavy right now.
My son is ending his elementary school years in no less than 3 weeks. It's weird to be there the first day of Kindergarten and every day since- now he is done. Middle school. Soon, high school, college... it IS happening at break neck speedy-speed. I love it. I am SO proud, he is an amazing child but I am really afraid I will lose my shit come "graduation day". I quote that because my husband insists he is not graduating, he is simply moving from the 5th to the 6th grade... we'll see how tough he is when our nearly 5' tall baby walks across the stage and they call his name- in that second I know he (as well as I will see a flash of our boy, a mere 5 year old with missing teeth and dimples for god damn miles. It will hit him. And if it doesn't- I will.
I am so sentimental. I am weepy. It sucks.
I am a hard shell. No one cried in my family. They all did and still do it in private and I can't stand it, never could but as an adult, I just don't have a lot to cry about. I am not sad a lot. Depression is something I keep far away from myself (also runs in the family) by just choosing to BE HAPPY. That's it. That is my big fucking secret. I just choose it.
I wake up every day, like everyone else and whether I had a bad night or foresee a bad day- I just decided in that moment to be happy.
And not every day does it work out so peachy. I do have my days, I am not a robot. But most days, that's all it takes. I have a lot to be happy about.
Like this new baby!
HOLY SHIT! I am going to have another baby... I am still wrapping my head around it. I am going to go in on the 12th (if all goes according to plan) and have myself a baby.
The fears are there, like with the other two. You worry- is he okay? Will I be okay?
I am having surgery and as much as I don't like that idea, the idea of having my child fall limp in my arms again (Quattro was rushed to the NICU for 24 hours because he stopped breathing about 10 minutes after birth... I shudder to think) I have to.
People are weird about c-sections. I mean, I realize it is ridiculous to just "want" one but when I say I am having one, people sometimes say "Oh don't do that- you will be sorry". Sorry is not something you tell someone who is going to be cut in half to have a healthy baby. Sorry is what they would be if I had the energy to knock them out. Why do people assume to know your business?
Speaking of energy, I am being hit with the fact that I have none left.
I have a week to go, Eddie is on tour- life is slightly stressful knowing that I could go into labor at any time. I am full term. This is a wild ride.
I "okayed" this tour just knowing that it's the little things that sometimes make life exciting but now that I am here, sitting on 6 days with no husband... I am a little freaked. I'm not going to lie.
But I have the most amazing friends. My friend Matt said "we have a pretty good village" the other day, as he was letting me know him and his family had my back while E is gone and you know- he is absolutely right. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have the most amazing friends that would absolutely do anything for me and my family- and us to them.
If you are missing that in your life and you have kids- my advice. Volunteer at school. Find your "life partners" parent partners. They are priceless (and worth the grueling PTA meetings).
Ciao
I could bore you with what has been going on and that would be one of the last blog posts you would read, I'm sure. If I even have any readers left. Either way, life is pretty fucking good.
I am due to give birth, to what will most likely be my last child. Up until the last week or so, I have been totally fine with that concept. That reality. But now, I makes me sad.
I don't want to have more kids, just the knowing that this is the last time I will experience all of this, is a little heavy.
A lot of things are heavy right now.
My son is ending his elementary school years in no less than 3 weeks. It's weird to be there the first day of Kindergarten and every day since- now he is done. Middle school. Soon, high school, college... it IS happening at break neck speedy-speed. I love it. I am SO proud, he is an amazing child but I am really afraid I will lose my shit come "graduation day". I quote that because my husband insists he is not graduating, he is simply moving from the 5th to the 6th grade... we'll see how tough he is when our nearly 5' tall baby walks across the stage and they call his name- in that second I know he (as well as I will see a flash of our boy, a mere 5 year old with missing teeth and dimples for god damn miles. It will hit him. And if it doesn't- I will.
I am so sentimental. I am weepy. It sucks.
I am a hard shell. No one cried in my family. They all did and still do it in private and I can't stand it, never could but as an adult, I just don't have a lot to cry about. I am not sad a lot. Depression is something I keep far away from myself (also runs in the family) by just choosing to BE HAPPY. That's it. That is my big fucking secret. I just choose it.
I wake up every day, like everyone else and whether I had a bad night or foresee a bad day- I just decided in that moment to be happy.
And not every day does it work out so peachy. I do have my days, I am not a robot. But most days, that's all it takes. I have a lot to be happy about.
Like this new baby!
HOLY SHIT! I am going to have another baby... I am still wrapping my head around it. I am going to go in on the 12th (if all goes according to plan) and have myself a baby.
The fears are there, like with the other two. You worry- is he okay? Will I be okay?
I am having surgery and as much as I don't like that idea, the idea of having my child fall limp in my arms again (Quattro was rushed to the NICU for 24 hours because he stopped breathing about 10 minutes after birth... I shudder to think) I have to.
People are weird about c-sections. I mean, I realize it is ridiculous to just "want" one but when I say I am having one, people sometimes say "Oh don't do that- you will be sorry". Sorry is not something you tell someone who is going to be cut in half to have a healthy baby. Sorry is what they would be if I had the energy to knock them out. Why do people assume to know your business?
Speaking of energy, I am being hit with the fact that I have none left.
I have a week to go, Eddie is on tour- life is slightly stressful knowing that I could go into labor at any time. I am full term. This is a wild ride.
I "okayed" this tour just knowing that it's the little things that sometimes make life exciting but now that I am here, sitting on 6 days with no husband... I am a little freaked. I'm not going to lie.
But I have the most amazing friends. My friend Matt said "we have a pretty good village" the other day, as he was letting me know him and his family had my back while E is gone and you know- he is absolutely right. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have the most amazing friends that would absolutely do anything for me and my family- and us to them.
If you are missing that in your life and you have kids- my advice. Volunteer at school. Find your "life partners" parent partners. They are priceless (and worth the grueling PTA meetings).
Ciao
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