I have been really struggling lately.
I have spent two seperate days in the labor & delivery department, which I think may have spawned a little bit of PTSD. I’ve been sick as shit and I think the general feeling of well, being pregnant is catching up to me. I had a mini meltdown Saturday night watching the nutcracker with my family. All because the thought of a tiny baby joining us in that moment was so ridiculously overwhelming. I had flashbacks of holding Holiday and feeling sad, anxious, overwhelmed and alone. And then came the tears, all those damn, stupid tears. I kept repeating to myself, this will be a totally different experience. I’m not a rookie anymore. All those things that made me so anxious, really shouldn’t make me anxious any longer. But at the same time, I remember after having Holiday my sister saying to me, “you thought you had anxiety before? Welcome to mom anxiety - which never goes away.” Which by the way is completely and utterly true. I was a worrier, a worst case scenario thinker before, but becoming a mom made me a nervous wreck. And although I would like to think of myself as a semi seasoned mom, this never ever goes away. Almost two years later, I am still a nervous wreck. I have begun to fill my arsenal, reading articles and blogs about acupuncture and supplements. Contacting a counselor, whom I am SUPER excited to start seeing. (Who gets excited to see a counselor LOL?) Deciding how I am going to exercise once cleared to do so. Making checklists and schedules, because when you’re Type A lists make the world spin. Anything that will help, or at least make me feel like I have some sort of control over all of this. My husband keeps reminding me that “we got this”. He laid down next to me on the couch as I am bawling and said to me “Sam, you beat this already. You KNOW that you can get through it.” And let me tell you, two sentences have never held so much weight nor have I repeated them to myself so many times. I guess it must be the unknown. An unknown different from the first time around. You see, the first time the unknown is ignorance, which may not be blissful, but there are no concrete expectations. The second time around, although I know what to expect, the thought of it being different; good or bad, scares me. Which now saying that outloud, or typing it rather, makes zero sense. But I bet my fellow veteran moms know exactly what I am talking about. Everything from labor and delivery, to breastfeeding, to his first day and night here at home, it’s all a mystery but one that I unfortunately have these foggy anxiety filled memories of. I have been praying, A LOT. I prayed and meditated when I was going through PPD the first time. I sometimes end of feeling guilty because I feel that I am using God as some magic lamp - rub it three times and ask him to nod his head and cure me, or whatever. As much as I would like to give the credit to him of leading me out of the darkness with Holiday, it wasn’t just him. But it sure as shit helped, divine intervention maybe? Or maybe someone to just talk to, to unburden my heart to.... I really wanted to make this blog entry fun, gush over the cool new gadgets and doo dads I’ve been collecting for Wyatt’s arrival. And fawn over the fact that Holiday has been lifting my shirt and kissing my belly goodnight every night. But, my heart and my mind are burdened and I needed to type, read and share my thoughts so that they didn’t rot inside of me. And this helps, so thanks for listening friends. :) Xoxo, Sam
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorFull time working mama, anxious /introvert & sometimes chronic over sharer. On the wild runaway train of raising a pre-teen stepdaughter, a sassy toddler and welcoming a newborn. Archives
February 2018
Categories |