I haven't written anything in so long; not even any personal journal entries. For good reason, though. I've been trying to do some self improvement for awhile, mostly due to having long lasting postpartum depression (5 very long, awful months), and something finally clicked.
When Adrian was born I felt so much guilt over taking away Gavin's place as the baby. I felt an overwhelming sense of incompetence and anger over that incompetence. It was as if I couldn't live up to my expectations and therefore I was screwing up my family beyond repair. It wasn't helping that Gavin was acting out due to my lack of being emotionally available. There was also this internal struggle about breastfeeding that I never felt before. I had a lot of feelings of resentment and guilt that seemed to be simmering in my stomach and breastfeeding wasn't curing it or replacing it with those lovely endorphins. I was looking at it more as a chore than a movement to bond with my baby. Why couldn't I feel what mothers feel for their children on television or look the way those stupid new moms look in magazines? Here I was sitting and crying for days, not changing my clothes or showering, mussed hair and no makeup, looking like I just escaped the looney bin. Fuck you, Picture Perfect Mom. I think I'll cancel my subscription to Parents magazine and start my own called "Shit Just Got Real". Whaddaya think? Who'd subscribe to that?
I started counseling about a month and a half after giving birth, which didn't help because the counselor was a bonafide airhead. All she did was piss me off with her Mother Nature-esque attitude. So, I switched over to a military provided therapist who was a great fit for me. I also went to a psychiatrist there who really wanted to put me on some SSRI's to help but she wasn't willing to do that while I was nursing and I wasn't 100% into that recourse. I continued to go to my therapist and finally brought up my bitter feelings where she really shined some light on things for me.
I have always looked at breastfeeding as an all-or-none choice. So, I thought I was doomed hold this mega responsibility which was the hair that was about to break my back. I didn't want to quit all together, so what could I do? Madame Therapist told me to partially wean. What?!! That's possible?! And the clouds opened up. Silly as it seems, it made all the difference.
When Adrian was about 5 1/2 months I started regularly giving formula. Dad participated, too, which was refreshing. Guilt and anxiety about what others would think of me cropped up and I really had to shut that out. All this pressure and worry melted off my shoulders when I allowed myself to share the responsiblity of the children with other people involved in their lives (my husband, relatives). Yeah, I realize that maybe some people, especially in family, might try to judge my decision poorly, but it's a good time to bust out my fancy dance move called the Shoulder Shrug. I've done this and put myself in a place mentally that allowed me to fall in love with my children all over again. I get excited about those little things they do again. I'm able now, after 6 months of fighting with myself, to be the person I want to be. I'm not acting like I need to be in Mommy Dearest anymore. I also am secure in the knowledge that Adrian is going to love me regardless of what is fed to him. The even better part is that I'm getting to have my cake and eat it, too, by nursing at night and using formula in the daytime.
Whether to nurse or not wasn't the problem, but by changing a few things in my life it created a catalyst to be able to revamp my whole self and start things fresh with my kids. Whatever I needed to achieve that goal is justified and I'd rather sacrifice a small thing to be able to gain a larger prize: a great relationship with myself and my family. I no longer feel like a pressure cooker or a hopeless mess, nor do I think about walking out the door sans phone and money and get away as far as my feet can take me.
This change is also helping deal with the upcoming stress I'll be handling next month. We're taking a vacation which includes spending 1 week in Florida with Nick's whole (and I mean WHOLE) family. Then we're going on to Texas to spend a few days with my grandparents, but seeing my parents will be incorporated in the visit somehow. Finally, off to Pennsylvania to relax and do a lot of nothing besides eating at Eat'N'Park. We're renting cars (which if you're a USAA member you get decent discounts!) and that should help allow us to do more of what we want to do regardless of others.
To start, I'm a tad nervous about the Florida trip. Nick's family easily overwhelmes me, and always has, to which I sort of shut down or slide into the background. I guess they take that as me being snooty and it caused a lot of tension, a lot of which I was unaware of. I don't know exactly how things are now between me and them, but I'm giving all efforts of not going in with any preconceived ideas and to let things go as they will. Then the trip to Texas will be nice, except seeing my folks. I love, love, love being at my grandparents. They raised me and I view them as my parents, but I still have to deal with those people who actually are my parents. -yay-. My mother has never met my husband and, honestly, it could stay that way for all I care. To prove a point here, I called her for the first time in 7 months (no, she didn't hear about the baby's birth) and she didn't even ask me how my children were. She's about as unavailable as they come. My father...God bless him. That's all I should say about it. He has moments where he actually tries and even the blind could see how unnatural it is for him to attempt to bond. If I could be guilt free about it, I'd stay at my gram's the whole time and eat her awesome cucumber salad.
But it's all about making the effort and being unreproachable in the end with some things, isn't it? Do your best so no one can say you didn't try.
