Sunday, July 25, 2010
I really love how there are certain things that having been through this before actually help. As much as the first week of breastfeeding hurts, the fourth time through I am well aware that the painful stage is short-lived. It's much easier to endure when you know it will only last a couple days.
Some things never get easier. Today is my first day home alone with Max and Claire, something that I've been nervous about all week. Even the fourth time through I can't seem to get my after-baby panic under control. My state of mind makes things ten times worse than anything that actually happens. Troy left this morning to pick up the boys, meeting his parents halfway. And before he even left I started to panic about having both Claire and Maxwell by myself all day. Pulling myself out of my snit always seems to be the toughest part. If I can manage to do that, and keep myself busy and calm, we really seem to make out quite fine.
In my panic this morning I tried to convince Troy that he should take Claire with him. For the six hour drive. Luckily, experience works in Troy's favor too, and he said that was a really bad idea and that I'd be fine. He's been through this before, I can tell. He knew that in an hour he would receive an apologetic call from me, confirming that we were indeed fine. That I really can get my own food and keep diapers clean and two little birds happy all by myself. I remember after Seth was born (you know that really traumatically difficult jump from one child to two, when you have no idea how to divide your attention that was previously only demanded by one child?), I would cry when Troy had to leave for work, and ask him why he just couldn't call in sick and stay home with me. Yeah, it was that bad.
This morning has had it's ups and downs, but overall it's really been okay. I managed to shower and eat breakfast, and even make and have half a coffee, which helped my mood a lot. I've even unloaded the dishwasher, a vast improvement! Maxwell did nurse a lot though, and it was a bit tough to keep Claire occupied while I sat with him. I was struggling with guilt from encouraging her to play by herself, not being able to jump up and help her whenever she needed, and feeling guilty for generally being relieved when a tv show grabbed her attention. My love hate saga with screen time lives on. I found myself cursing any mess in our house, she kept getting into things she shouldn't. And sitting and nursing I found myself preaching at her, just streams of words that she had no plans of listening to. At one point she took her diaper off, a pretty normal occurance lately, but I only realized later that she had taken it off because she pooped. Not fun.