This blog has been long overdue, and I have felt like I was going to burst recently if I didn't vent somewhere and let it all out. Let me just start by saying that it's been a hellish last 10 weeks, and things are just finally starting to fall into some semblance of a 'routine' that doesn't involve 18 hours of screaming and crying per day (myself and Sprout included).
T is for Trouble
I blogged about Seedling's reflux the last time I wrote, and since then, things have finally gotten better. He has grown a ton and started gaining weight again after a scary week or two on the Prevacid where he was losing weight and really not getting any better. Our ped has him on Losec now (Omeprazole), which is working absolute wonders. He still refluxes quite a bit, but he's not screaming when it's happening, so life is a little bit less deafening around here. Interestingly enough, my GP recommended trying Seedling on a probiotic drop called BioGaia, and that has been absolutely wonderful - after a few days, it pretty much eliminated his issues with passing gas and bowel movements, and they are much more regular. I have finally been able to enjoy having him around and interacting with him, and so has Sprout. That leads me to the next 'T' word of the day.
TESTS.
Why do all toddlers feel the need to test their boundaries. I know they're just learning about the world they live in and the crazy parents they have, but seriously...I've been about ready to snap the last little while. Sprout used to be this happy-go-lucky, super gentle, loving little bundle. Lately (I'm sure she's just rebelling because of the extra attention we've had to give Seedling), she has started acting out - BIG TIME. The kicker is, it's only happening when I am around. If I send her to Auntie's house for a day to play with the kids, the day is practically incident-free. What kind of 'incidents', you ask? Let me give a couple examples.
1: The Park.
While playing on the playground equipment (with me right there in case she falls - she's still such a klutz because her feet keep growing at astounding rates), she hauled down another little girl, younger than her, by her pigtails. No remorse, nothing. She didn't even get angry or throw a fit when I grabbed her and practically ran to the vehicle. No 'sorry' to the little girl or the mom, while I frantically kept apologizing, realizing that Sprout was that kid at the playground.
2. Auntie's House.
Sprout has a cute little friend that my sister watches who has very quickly become her favourite, and vice versa. Somewhat surprising, considering Sprout attacks her every time I am around and she is there, yanking handfuls of hair out of her poor little head, shoving her, pulling her clothes to haul her down, scratching and clawing at her face. Oh yeah. It's pretty terrible.
Now, I'm sure it's just a phase, but I've been having a really hard time finding disciplinary action that actually works. Verrrrrrry frustrating. I've been the good guy, the bad guy, the mean one, the sweet one. I've counted to three, stuck her in time out, taken away privileges, taken away toys, and only once, I actually pulled her hair (not hard, I definitely don't believe in spanking or violence as a mechanism for discipline) to try and show her that it hurts. All that did was make it into a bigger deal and now she talks about it all the time like I was the one who showed her how to do it. Total guilt trip from a 20 month old. Seriously ridiculous.
Speaking of guilt trips, the last part of this blog has to do with me. Yep, not talking about my kids anymore - think you can handle some real-life, crazy as shit, second-time-mommy-meltdown talk? Bring it on, you say?
Tick tock tick tock.
Everything gets better with time. Funny, my husband has been using the Trevor Project's "It Gets Better" slogan a ton lately in our house. That phrase really can be attributed to a lot of situations, mine included, but it sure doesn't make it easier when you're in the midst of all the craziness. I absolutely thought I was going crazy about a month ago. Certifiably, stick me in the nuthouse kind of crazy. I went through an entire dictionary's worth of emotions: sadness for not being able to do anything to stop Seedling from crying, anger that I couldn't stop it, angrier still that he would not stop, guilt for feeling angry because it's not his fault, resentment and feeling like I didn't want him anymore, crazy guilt for that - who doesn't want their own baby (apparently it's actually a more common emotion than I thought, especially with a difficult second child), guilt because of how much my bed rest and consequent high-maintenance new little brother have affected Sprout. The list could keep going on and on. I spent most of the time in tears, and still do occasionally. I have moments where I seem to have absolutely zero patience, and I have yelled at not only my toddler, my beloved Sprout, but at a helpless infant, my little sweet Seedling, who just laid there and screamed back at me with sad little tears rolling down his cheeks. That time, I definitely cried. Hard.
I completely understand now the feeling of picking up a screaming baby and thinking "I know exactly how someone could lose it and get out of control and shake their baby." It's terrible, and I know it is a fine line between the thought and the action, but believe me when I say I could NEVER actually do that to my child. What I am doing is trying to do things to help myself. It took a good 8 weeks plus for me to convey exactly how I was feeling to my husband, who kept on brushing it off and ignoring me when I said that I needed him to really see the big picture and understand that if he didn't start helping me more, I was going to fall apart. Things are finally getting better in that area, which is extremely helpful.
One of my biggest issues was my thyroid, which I didn't take care of for 6 weeks after I had Seedling (I was supposed to have it checked a week post-delivery). I have a disease called Hashimoto's Thyroiditis - check Google if you want to know more details, but it is basically an autoimmune disorder where my body attacks my thyroid as if it were a foreign object, and therefore suppresses its function enough that I need to be on synthetic thyroxine (Synthroid). When I was pregnant, my dosage increased to almost double what I take when I am not, and for 6 weeks, I was still taking that high dose daily. What can taking too much Synthroid do? Cause anxiety, jitters, irritability, bowel and stomach issues, mimic signs of depression, and cause heart racing/palpitations. Check all of those off in my case. My GP isn't convinced that I have full-on postpartum depression, and we're waiting until my thyroid regulates to see if she thinks an anti-depressent med is necessary (which I am open to if she decides it is required). In the meantime, I have sought out some help for myself. I joined a mom's group and have met a few new friends, I am attending a postpartum support group starting next week, and I have an appointment set up for some private counselling as well. I am not the type of person to shy away from admitting when I need help - I have not been coping well, and I know it.
Things do get better with time, and they definitely have improved from where they were. I feel a lot more balanced and less irritable since starting a much lower dose of my meds, and now that Seedling's meds are working well, life for everyone in the house is a little less chaotic and frantic. Take tonight, for example. Both my kids were bathed and in bed by 9:00pm, even though Sprout was sick today with a fever and slept until 6:30pm during her afternoon nap. I am fortunate to have a great support system of family and friends around me, and a loving husband who puts up with all the crazy and the somewhat sane, but I know there are a ton of women out there who don't have anyone to turn to.
If any of you are reading this now, please know that you're not alone, and you are by no means crazy. You're not the first person to feel how you are feeling, and you're not the only one who is going through it at this precise moment. It is absolutely normal to feel anger, frustration, resentment, guilt, happiness, sadness, and love all at the same time towards your baby, whether they are the first, second, third, or more. The thing is, you have to know what to do with it. If you're not doing well, be the first one to admit it. Hiding your emotions and bottling them up will do nothing good for you or your baby, or your marriage or relationship for that matter. I can see now that the right combination of difficult baby, terrible-twos toddler, and postpartum depressed mom could have the potential to ruin a perfectly good marriage/relationship. Find someone to talk to, even if it's not someone professional. I have even discovered that a friend of mine with a baby born close to the same time has been going through a lot of the same things as me, by being open and talking candidly about how I have really been feeling. There is no good reason to go through something like this alone. Call your public mental health unit and ask to speak to someone there if you think that you might be suffering from PPD, or go and talk to your family doctor if you have one. There are so many avenues that you can go down for help. Just make sure you seek out help before you get out of control.
Sigh. Okay. Now I feel better. Venting is so good. Ahhhh.
So there you have it. I'm going to go and get ready for bed now, seeing as how it's 10:45pm and both my kids have been sleeping since 9-ish and the tiniest one is asleep in his crib (yay!). Sprout and Seedling, please know that you are my reason for living. Even though some days it seems like Mommy doesn't have a fraction of the patience I usually do, it is in no way a reflection on how much I love you. My beautiful Sprout - you have grown into such a little lady over the past few months - I barely recognize you with your long golden curls and your sassy 3 and 4 word full sentences. Your memory and cognition continue to astound me every single day, and I absolutely love to watch you dance and sing to your favourite songs (Dynamite, Tightrope, Umbrella, Sugar Sugar, Hey Baby, Oh My My, and Single Ladies). I can't wait to start dance class with you in September. And you, my sweet tiny Seedling...where do I even start? You are such a bright, beautiful little boy. I couldn't have dreamed of a more perfect little face, and when you smile, it lights up my heart more than I could have ever imagined when you were fighting to stay in my tummy. Both of you make me so proud to be your Mommy, and I can't wait to see what the next year will bring. I know that time goes by quicker than I always expect, and that every day, week, and month will bring exciting new things for all of us. I love you both with all of my heart. Thank you for giving me this time to vent - Mommy will be a little less crazy tomorrow now. Sleep well, tiny darlings.
xoxoxo
Mommy
