Every night before sleep comes I'm haunted by a vision. Grey cement and stone, a dangling overhead bulb flickering, water drip, drip, drop, drip, clink from the corner where a pot and a sink of stink, flies and dirt huddle, then the scratch marks on the wall. These marks aren't the days gone in solitary confinment but the count down to my return to the labor force, my daily droll away from my new family - I'm trapped and alone and no one can hear me, nor do they care...this is life...right.
It's late, the baby has been asleep on my lap for hours, and my eyes compulsorily blink through my TV hipnosis. If I go to bed then I'm one day closer to work, if I stay awake I am one less night of sleep. Slowly I haul myself up the steps with my bundle, and wade through the darkness to our bed. If I keep the lights off maybe I can trick myself into sleeping, and if I can't, well let the shadows play tricks - I don't have the energy to fiddle with a light switch let alone hallucinate it's morning already and sob from more hours of loss. My bundle signs and settles more comfortably by my side and I stare at the ceiling.
At some point I slept for 5 minutes or an hour...who knows. Time is stealthy these days and nights. The baby is stretching and murmuring it's time for a snack. I fumble for the boppy, sit cross legged, head bowed and eyes closed while she nurses. I'm not sure how long, but I know I've nodded off and she is asleep again. We recline, she sighs, I stare.
24 September 2009
21 September 2009
Panic in the Dark
8 weeks have come and gone. I can't believe how much she has already grown. From 6 pounds to 9 pounds in the blink of an eye. She's finally out of her newborn clothes in her 0-3. So cute to have her in adorable dresses and not just onezies, and o how many pictures can a doating new mom take? Thousands!
8 weeks have come and gone. O crap! I only have 4 more weeks, one more month, I'm one third of the way through my maternity...and the income is gone...no more pay - we're eating through the income tax return now and still managing, but...for how much longer is anyone's guess. I haven't really paid much attention to the bills and our finances, and that was always my job. The accounts seem high enough, but once nothing else comes in...we're in trouble. But I only have 4 more weeks home with my precious baby.
8 weeks and you would think I'd be ready for some adult interaction, some decent clothes, and a day out of the house. No way! You can't make me leave her. I don't want to go anywhere without her by my side. Actually I just don't want to go anywhere. I'm so comfortable at home on the couch, in bed, sitting at the table. Beside I hurt too much...how am I going to make the drive and sit all day. O this is not good...I can feel it...the wave of panic and tears. Good thing I'm alone and no one sees me clutching my little one like it was our last moments on Earth and me sobbing and rocking just imagining that first day away.
8 weeks, time to load my next batch of pictures onto the computer. While I'm at it I'll check my work email: clean out the junk mail, and forward any misdirected issues...it's been 8 weeks and I bet...yep...hundreds of emails in my inbox. Most are easy to delete...stupid junk mail. A few need to be sent to someone because I'm not working on anything I don't "have" to. And the rest get filed as FYIs. Whew...not as scary as it could have been...eveyone knows I'm on maternity, and I'm grateful that they don't pester me and take time from my angel. And then..."I'm not sure who I need to send this to, however, the current temp working for you has accepted a full time position elsewhere, and her last day will be a week from this Friday. Please let me know if I can send someone else in her place." What?!
8 weeks. I'm NOT going back early. No way. But wait...I need some income and I have a brilliant idea. I call HR and then send an email to my boss. I will work from home part time for the last three weeks of my maternity in exchange for the ability to work from home 2 days a week through the month of June. YAY. I can ease my way back into work, and maybe get excited to go back, and then I get to be home 2 days a week. Nice. I can do this. Really I can. Rich has a temp job so I'll work from home on the days he needs to work his temp...the perfect situation.
8 weeks and I only have 2 weeks left of total, 100% baby time left. We need the money, and I need to refocus again. I don't think I put the baby down for 2 weeks. I just held her and cried.
8 weeks have come and gone. O crap! I only have 4 more weeks, one more month, I'm one third of the way through my maternity...and the income is gone...no more pay - we're eating through the income tax return now and still managing, but...for how much longer is anyone's guess. I haven't really paid much attention to the bills and our finances, and that was always my job. The accounts seem high enough, but once nothing else comes in...we're in trouble. But I only have 4 more weeks home with my precious baby.
8 weeks and you would think I'd be ready for some adult interaction, some decent clothes, and a day out of the house. No way! You can't make me leave her. I don't want to go anywhere without her by my side. Actually I just don't want to go anywhere. I'm so comfortable at home on the couch, in bed, sitting at the table. Beside I hurt too much...how am I going to make the drive and sit all day. O this is not good...I can feel it...the wave of panic and tears. Good thing I'm alone and no one sees me clutching my little one like it was our last moments on Earth and me sobbing and rocking just imagining that first day away.
8 weeks, time to load my next batch of pictures onto the computer. While I'm at it I'll check my work email: clean out the junk mail, and forward any misdirected issues...it's been 8 weeks and I bet...yep...hundreds of emails in my inbox. Most are easy to delete...stupid junk mail. A few need to be sent to someone because I'm not working on anything I don't "have" to. And the rest get filed as FYIs. Whew...not as scary as it could have been...eveyone knows I'm on maternity, and I'm grateful that they don't pester me and take time from my angel. And then..."I'm not sure who I need to send this to, however, the current temp working for you has accepted a full time position elsewhere, and her last day will be a week from this Friday. Please let me know if I can send someone else in her place." What?!
8 weeks. I'm NOT going back early. No way. But wait...I need some income and I have a brilliant idea. I call HR and then send an email to my boss. I will work from home part time for the last three weeks of my maternity in exchange for the ability to work from home 2 days a week through the month of June. YAY. I can ease my way back into work, and maybe get excited to go back, and then I get to be home 2 days a week. Nice. I can do this. Really I can. Rich has a temp job so I'll work from home on the days he needs to work his temp...the perfect situation.
8 weeks and I only have 2 weeks left of total, 100% baby time left. We need the money, and I need to refocus again. I don't think I put the baby down for 2 weeks. I just held her and cried.
10 September 2009
How'd I get here
Today my little princess is six months old. I really don't know how we got here. I feel like I've lost years of time let alone a mere 6 months. Everyone says that time flies once you have children; you're so busy you can't keep up with yourself and every second of this new little life you are responsible to nurture and love. These past six months are more like a murky fog than anything else.
I still feel it - that pain in my chest - all day when I'm at work. My alarm goes off and I hit snooze for a half hour. I can't put my little angel back in bed yet; I want to cuddle a few more minutes. I don't want to miss her chest rise and fall; I don't want to miss her eye lids flutter during her dreams. She smells so sweet, so comforting: I just can't do it. I take a deep breath and fight back the droplet on my cheek and place her gently back in the co-sleeper. I remind myself that this is the life we've created, and I need to make sure she has a roof over her head and food in her tummy; it's my job to go to work to give her a good life. We are lucky that daddy can care for her during the day. But all day...I stare out the window, attempting to maintain an upward curve in my lips so that the staff around me doesn't ask what's wrong or how are you today.
They don't understand. Well some do. Those lucky ones who get to work from home at least a few days a week. They give me that knowing look and head back to their desk. The others just write me off any more. They think I just don't want to work. Maybe that's part of it, but not because "I don't want to," but because I can't accept this modern world where the mommy has to be away from her baby just to make ends meet. What happened to our society. I used to scoff at the "family values" discussions, and now...now I understand.
Those weeks leading up to my return to work were the most painful.
I still feel it - that pain in my chest - all day when I'm at work. My alarm goes off and I hit snooze for a half hour. I can't put my little angel back in bed yet; I want to cuddle a few more minutes. I don't want to miss her chest rise and fall; I don't want to miss her eye lids flutter during her dreams. She smells so sweet, so comforting: I just can't do it. I take a deep breath and fight back the droplet on my cheek and place her gently back in the co-sleeper. I remind myself that this is the life we've created, and I need to make sure she has a roof over her head and food in her tummy; it's my job to go to work to give her a good life. We are lucky that daddy can care for her during the day. But all day...I stare out the window, attempting to maintain an upward curve in my lips so that the staff around me doesn't ask what's wrong or how are you today.
They don't understand. Well some do. Those lucky ones who get to work from home at least a few days a week. They give me that knowing look and head back to their desk. The others just write me off any more. They think I just don't want to work. Maybe that's part of it, but not because "I don't want to," but because I can't accept this modern world where the mommy has to be away from her baby just to make ends meet. What happened to our society. I used to scoff at the "family values" discussions, and now...now I understand.
Those weeks leading up to my return to work were the most painful.
It's only pressure
I want to know whose brilliant idea it was to assume that people are so dumb as to believe being told "it won't hurt, it's only a little pressure" works! Pressure my ass!!
Insert lidocaine...owwi...insert torture device needle...Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeow! The tears came running down my face...hubby heard me scream in the waiting room. It took me a good 10 minutes or so before I let them start the other side. The best way to describe the pain is that it feels like back labor...it was the exact same pain that made me succumb to getting the epidural during labor.
I think I cried for a half hour or more and just couldn't get a grip. THe docs and nurses all treated me like a 4 year old and said I did a good job and I should be proud of myself for going through with both sides. A nurse put an ice back on my lower back and monitored my blood pressure for another 20 minutes or so and sent me home.
Through the rest of the day and night it hurt...it hurt awful. I kept waiting for the pain-free moment to come, but I tossed and turned and moaned and just couldn't get comfy. By morning I hadn't realized that I actually slept 4 hours in a row...thank you little sweets for giving mommy a nice span between feedings...and o my...the pain...it's mostly gone. Yippee! It actually worked. It really worked. I'm...I'm...free!
BY Friday mid-day I felt like I was on speed. I had so much energy I just ran around getting stuff done, multi tasking like pre-mama, and generally smiling. Yes, smiling. My household didn't know what to do with itself. I played with the pups on the floor, I played with the baby on the floor, I ran up and down the steps, I slept like a baby at night.
Insert lidocaine...owwi...insert torture device needle...Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeow! The tears came running down my face...hubby heard me scream in the waiting room. It took me a good 10 minutes or so before I let them start the other side. The best way to describe the pain is that it feels like back labor...it was the exact same pain that made me succumb to getting the epidural during labor.
I think I cried for a half hour or more and just couldn't get a grip. THe docs and nurses all treated me like a 4 year old and said I did a good job and I should be proud of myself for going through with both sides. A nurse put an ice back on my lower back and monitored my blood pressure for another 20 minutes or so and sent me home.
Through the rest of the day and night it hurt...it hurt awful. I kept waiting for the pain-free moment to come, but I tossed and turned and moaned and just couldn't get comfy. By morning I hadn't realized that I actually slept 4 hours in a row...thank you little sweets for giving mommy a nice span between feedings...and o my...the pain...it's mostly gone. Yippee! It actually worked. It really worked. I'm...I'm...free!
BY Friday mid-day I felt like I was on speed. I had so much energy I just ran around getting stuff done, multi tasking like pre-mama, and generally smiling. Yes, smiling. My household didn't know what to do with itself. I played with the pups on the floor, I played with the baby on the floor, I ran up and down the steps, I slept like a baby at night.
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