Monday, September 27, 2010


More of the same really. I inhabit a universe where I alternate between great love and great distaste for my baby. Call it colic, reflux, angry baby syndrome, whatever it may be she has been sent to me to test me, my patience, my strength, my character.
I thought about removing my last post, I felt ashamed when I reread it. How can I possibly say I want to shake her, to watch her bounce? Yet I feel that it helps to write it, to expose myself, to be truly honest. And just to clarify, I won't do any of those things. I've just never felt so incapable, never had my self worth so rattled. My confidence as a parent and perhaps even as a person is rock bottom. Why is she so unhappy? Why can't I get her to sleep more? Why does she cry so long and so loudly? Why doesn't she like us? What do I do?
My mind isn't the only thing hurting, my body feels ready to fall apart. All the walking, holding, bouncing, swaying is taking it's toll on my poor back, shoulders, legs, arms. I feel as if I've aged 10 years. Ridiculously I felt so fit and healthy during her pregnancy, now it's hard to find the motivation to walk around the oval. Perhaps I can blame that on the heat, the terrible beginnings of the Darwin build up.
I've given up coffee in the hope it will make a difference in her sleeping patterns, the same with alcohol, that sweet glass of wine with dinner has been replaced with water, apparently its better for you. Next on the list is chocolate, but I'm afraid if I give that up too I'll have little to no joy in my life. Mind you comfort eating has never been so good to me, thank you food my frenemy.
On the upside we have a dog who I have to walk so everyday we do leave the house and enjoy the thick Darwin humidity by venturing to a park or oval. So far she hasn't bitten anyone else, it seems my parenting of the dog is working out fine. I jump in the pool with my son to cool off and spend a small amount of quality time with him there. I've reread the entire Tomorrow series by John Marsden, the final installment of Harry Potter & a couple of Jonathon Tropper novels, wonderful. I've started cooking again, producing some form of dinner each night. My partner Josh has stepped up completely and I love him all the more for it. My son is a champion who still seems to love his sister more than the rest of us. The only playing up he has done is to start swearing (at the appropriate times, eg drops his cup of water and says 'shit'), but he gets that from me so I'm not too fussed.
So despite my post natal depression result (yes you are tested) being sky high (not in a good way ), essentially I'm doing all the right things. And apparently she will get better and my life will be happy again. I'm not unhappy as such (after all she only wakes up once in the night, I should be counting my blessings), I'm just wobbly. Wobblier than I've ever been. But I do love her, I promise you that.