Where has six months gone already?!
Never has days and months passed so quickly.
It seems like only yesterday you were being placed on my chest. Now you are becoming more and more independent.
Every day you are filling my life, and heart with more joy and love then I ever thought possible.
Thank you for the best six months of my life. I can’t wait for the months ahead.
Wee one and her pal
I look at this picture and realize that maybe my wee one, isn’t that wee. To me she is perfect. But when we were getting our shots last week. The nurse basically said she was fat. Umm last time I checked babies were supposed be chubby. I was a chunk until I was five. They say she is short, but has some gurth to her. And they would have to keep an eye on that. To hell you will, she is happy and healthy. She likes to eat, so what? Once she starts crawling it will all work its self out. Yup she is my 17.5 pound pumpkin, and I love every roll, crease and crevasse.
I guess as her mother, I don’t realize how much she is growing. I took this photo at my single mum group. This is when I was all wow, maybe she is bigger than I thought. Her little pal is half a month behind her.
Grumpy day
This pretty much sums up today. Yesterday was the dreaded S day, S as in shots. She hates them, WE hate them. Such a horrible thing to do to a wee child. Yes I know somethings have to be done to protect her. But really, have you seen the length of those needles?!
At least it didn’t take as long for us to get through them this time. We had a smart nurse. She stabbed her once and we quickly switched sides, and stabbed her again. It’s the way it should be done. She is already in pain, and screaming. Why drag it out for the both of us.
I think it almost hurts me more than her. The pain cry, sets me off… My boobs get hard and leak, as do my eyes. And I just can’t think when she cries like that. All I want to do is fold her back into my womb and make her safe.
But it is my entertainment after she has calmed down. She always looks right at the nurse, sticks her hand in her mouth. And gives her the what for.
Today was the aftermath. She was a hot mess. Crying almost all day, slight fever. I couldn’t put her down, as soon as I did she would start all over again. We went for a three hours walk, it was the only way she would sleep. And she only really dozed. Poor little bugger
At least we have 8 weeks until they want to stab her again.
The dictonary defines solidarity as the following. Union or fellowship arising from common responsibilities and interests, as between members of a group or between classes, peoples, etc.: to promote solidarity among union members. community of feelings, purposes, etc. community of responsibilities and interests.
This is how I feel every single Saturday since the start of the year. This single mum group is the highlight of my week. I look forward to gathering with these women and their babes/babes to be.
My experiences with mummy groups before this one was a story all in its own. I knew I needed to find one where I could at least have a common thread. I didn’t have to have become best friends with these people. But I needed to know I wasn’t alone.
My single mum group does this and so much more. I felt welcome the moment I walked in the door and took off my shoes. I wasn’t alone any longer, I was sitting surrounded by women who are struggling the same as me. Dealing with the same issues, crying the same tears. And I can actually see myself becoming life long friends with some of them.
There is no trying to have the better child, to one up the other mums. It’s all sharing and not comparing. It has done a world of good for my mental health. And I’m more than thankful.
These days I avoid mirrors at all costs. This includes shop windows bus windows, and anything that will reflect my image. I’m not happy with my appearance at all.
I see the fatigue all over me, I miss sleep we were such great friends. But it alludes me at every turn now. But the sleep or lack there of is really not what bothers me. The wee one likes to eat, and I wouldn’t give her up to have sleep back. Don’t get me wrong.
It’s the weight loss that has me really avoiding things. Like mirrors, and having my picture taken, and really enjoying myself. My face looks like someone elses someone I don’t recognize. Clothes that once looked so good, now just don’t seem right. My collar-bone seems to poke out from everything, like a giant scarlet letter yelling out to me from my shirts. I eat, I don’t understand why it just doesn’t stick to my bones anymore. Whirr Whirr goes my metabolism.
My hair, oh my beautiful lovely hair is no more. I haven’t had a cut since a month before she was born. So that would be almost 6 months, and I was religious every 2 to 3 months. It was the only way for it to stay looking good and doing something for me. Now I wake up and throw it in a braid or pony or bun. And I’m still shedding since the hormone drop off at her birth. It’s still tough watching handfuls cascade down the drain. Sometimes I think I’m going to go bald at some point. And no I’m not going to get a mommy cut, if at some point I get to trim some ends off. I can’t do it, this is the longest it has ever been. And it would make me cry more than watching it collect in my brush.
Maybe I should start eating sticks of butter?!
I read a blog today, that struck a chord with me. It was by LeChicken, I can’t truly relate to her pain. But I can with how she hides it. I’ve been doing a great job of hiding my emotions as of late. It may seem all rainbows and unicorns, but that is what I let you see.
I don’t need you knowing that I’m hurting. That I’m still dealing with PPD, in my own way. Some days I wonder how the hell I make it through this sleep deprived haze. It is not as bad as it was, but I still have days that I cry. And I do this when she is sleeping so she doesn’t see. I don’t want her to get upset. No particular reason for this, except for the demons that I’m still finding a way to slay.
And it makes it harder when Miss A has in the last few days, changed all her routines. And has resorted back to only wanting to be in my arms, for sleeping purposes. So not only am I back at square one to what she wants. I’m very much becoming the incredible disappearing woman.
The nights are the hardest for me. At 2 in the morning when she doesn’t want to go back to sleep, and I have to rock her for an hour. Knowing full well that in less than an hour and a half she will be back up to eat. I just want to scream and cry. I ache all over in places so unexpected. My hips are sore from the constant swaying, my back, my shoulder oh lord my shoulder. And for the love, I crack and pop. You would think I was 90 if you were to hear me get off the couch.
I’m grateful for each new day… Doesn’t mean it stays that way all through the day, but I’m hopeful. Everything changes in the blink of an eye, the ebb and flow of being a new mother. And one with a full plate and little support.
Still gives me a feeling of not being alone, when I come here and write. And I read that others are suffering the same plight, in some form or another.
Yes I know people don’t always want to see pictures of placentas. But hey I like to share. And yes this one is mine, or should I say my daughters.
Photo courtesy of Jozi Grant Photography
I felt like a horrible mommy today. Adelayde was a bear for the last few days. Not sleeping long, crying A LOT, and feeding every hour. Of course I was doing everything I could. Feeding her when she wanted, even when I felt like just a food vessel. Rocking her, swaddling her, changing her. Nothing was working. I was at my wit’s end…..
I went to change her an hour ago, and like most times. I check her tiny toes for toe jam. IÂ haven’t in a while, because low and behold. A mommy hair, wrapped tightly around her right middle toe. And when I say wrapped I mean, so tight it was cutting off circulation. Her cute little baby toe was a whole other color to the rest of them. Of course I panic, not smart. Because she now freaks out more as well. She rips her foot from my grasp, she wants me far away from it. But I want it off, give me back your foot PLEASE.
By this point I’m in tears with her. I don’t know what to do, I can’t find an end. It’s wrapped around twice, and I’m scared. So what do I do I call my handy-dandy midwives. I don’t know what else to do. I feel horrible having to interrupt their lives. But they called me right back and tried to calm me, so they could give me some direction. She said to try to get my nail under it and break it. Easier said then done, I had cut all my nails off the day before. She then suggested to soak it in warm water to try to loosen this. This was hard task to do, with a scream baby. And and equally crying mother. Out come my super sharp tweezers, which I was scared to use. They are tweezerman, and if you have a pair you know how sharp they are.
An hour goes by of me trying everything, but I think I got it. I know this by not being able to see it, not like I really could anyway. It was pretty deep in there. But she stopped crying and basically passed out in my arms. I wont really know until the swelling goes down. But there is a bit more normal color to it. But if in the morning it doesn’t look any better, we will go to the walk in down the street. My midwife said that she has heard about it, but had never know it happen to anyone. Yup that’s me, trail blazer.
Stupid me when she was asleep, went on the internet. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hair_tourniquet I think I would lose my mind if they had to cut her toe. Note to self…. be more of a monkey and groom groom!
I feel like a hostage, I’m at the mercy of her father. Or so it seems. This is not how I saw my life turn out. I did NOT see myself at 35, being a single mother. I always wanted a family with someone who loved me as much as I loved them. I’m not talking the picket fence and all that, but close I guess.
Her father and I were only dating for about five months, if that. I was going to break up with him before I found out about Adelayde. It really wasn’t much of a relationship, more of something to pass the time. Big mistake I guess, but I did get the best thing in the world out of it. I thought I should try to make it work, for the sake of the unborn child. Another big mistake, needless to say I broke it off with him when I was three months pregnant.
He always made it clear to me that he never wanted children. And made the point of telling me that he didn’t love me when I told him I was pregnant. That alone should have got me running. He harassed me the entire time I was pregnant. Sending me emails asking me if I just used him as a sperm donor, and if it was his. He even went so far as stalking my friend at his work to find out what I was up to. Then started asking me why we couldn’t be together. He is not of great moral character, and I don’t trust him at all. For many reasons, but I wont get into that here. I told him every time he tried to contact me to leave me alone. I was good enough to fill him in on the progress of the pregnancy if there was a need. And I really didn’t have to do that. As the date approached closer to her being due. He became more of a thorn in my side. He wanted to be at the birth, that was never going to happen. I needed to be at ease and comfortable. I knew that would not happen with him in the room. And at this point we had been broken up for longer then we were together.
I might have mentioned before that I had a very long hard labor, over 48 hours. I gave birth at 2:25 in the morning, I sent him a photo and let him know she was born later in the morning. This is when the hateful emails began. He said he may not have had any rights when I was pregnant, but now that she is born he does. Fine yeah I get it, but give me a day to recover. Even my midwives told me not to have visitors for a couple of days. I made him aware of this fact. And what did he do? he called my midwives office and started to scream at them. He is a bully, he will do and say anything to get his way. Not going to lie he scares me, kind of always has.
It’s taken me a long time dealing with legal aid to obtain myself a lawyer to combat his. He is trying to make it that I can never leave the city without his permission. All my family lives in another province, and I shouldn’t have to ask for us to see my family. He always wants to be here, texts me all the time. I can’t get the two of us moving with our life, because I feel like he is trying his best to make sure I can’t.
Yes I know I should be thankful he wants to be part of her life. I’m not denying him that. I cry myself to sleep many nights, which isn’t good for me or her. I shouldn’t feel like my child has made me a hostage. I don’t regret her at all, I love her more than my own life. But he scares the hell out of me, because if he doesn’t get his way being a bully he escalates until he does. So for the most part I’ve let him have his way. Stupid me. I just want my lawyer to get off her ass, and get me custody. I know that is going to be a fight too. This wasn’t supposed to be so hard. Ahhh such is my life, never could do things the easy way.
The past few nights have been tough ones. She has decided that 3am is a perfectly decent time to be awake. It baffles me, since she has always been good at night. She will sleep for her three hours, I’ll change her feed her, and off to la la land she will go. But not so for the last two. And she doesn’t go back to sleep until 9am. Needless to say I’m tired so very very tired.
I guess it could be a bit of a growth spurt, she is showing the signs. All she wants to do it eat, and is my little fuss pot the rest of the time. Sometimes it hard when you don’t have anyone to hand her over to. When you just can’t take it. When you just want to squeeze her until she stops. Now I would never do that. But I have had the thought, and I want to smack myself every time I think it. What kind of mother am I to even have that thought cross my mind?!.
She can’t fall off the floor I always say. Sometimes I have to just set her down and walk away. And I hate to do that, all I want to do is be near her. I do realize that I do need time for myself. But it seems that I’ve almost forgotten who the me was before her. One of the reasons I’ve started this blog. I use to journal all the time, I just can’t seem to find the time any more. This way at least I can do it all on my phone when I’m holding her.
Haha I just wish I knew how to really navigate myself around on here. Me and technology never were the best of friends. Well I guess I should try to get some sleep. As we speak, or as I type really she is dozing in and out next to me. Perhaps if I put her in her bed she will doze right off. Lets just cross our fingers that tonight will be a better night. And tomorrow maybe some fresh air will do her some good. We’ve stayed in doors the last few days. Its been very windy and chilly, and I just couldn’t drag my ass outside. See I am horrible, she needs to go out. Even if I don’t want to right?!
Tiny steps, big journey 