I have a confession to make.
Well, two. The first is that I have a really hard time with anything that smacks of a pity party. I just don't believe in pity parties, and have to check myself, as I often find myself judging people for complaining. It's embarassing to me to imply that my life is anything but priviledged and full of blessings. I mean, I didn't even blog about my sixth month of pregnancy when I got the worst eye infection (it looked like a scuba accident,) a cold, pneumonia and then broke a rib coughing-- although now that I can laugh about it, it's safe enough to mention. So please understand that this feels risky. And that at this moment I am trying to overcome a major pride issue.
My main confession is that I am having a really hard time in life. ( I don't want to speak for Jeff, but it's true that we are in this together.) Amelia has been such a challenge for us. I feel like I had approached parenthood knowing that it would be stretching, but feeling like I was definitely up to the challenge. The journey so far has been way beyond my imagination. Not just the challenges of my pregnancy, or the birth experience I hope to never repeat, but the whole deal up until now. Amelia is almost seven months old, and she is still practically sleeping like a newborn. I have written cheerful things before like "it was tough, but we're all sleeping better now," but they should have read, "Amelia was waking up every forty minutes, but now she wakes up every two to three hours, on a good night." She now sleeps four hours at a stretch on a great night. I am trying to think of a stronger word than "exhausted," but I can't at the moment. However, "cranky" is very accurate, and I feel like I am constantly on the verge of a major social blunder. That thing that has typically kept me from speaking my mind when I shouldn't or that helps me choose nice words in a tricky conversation is all gone. Sleep is not the only issue. Amelia has an incredibly dynamic personality and is almost constantly frustrated by... well, I don't know... maybe physical limitations?.. She rarely cries, but hollers almost constantly, and as Grandpa put it, "spends most of her time and energy trying to do things she can't do yet." On the one hand, I try to take her out every day because she LOVES new people and environments and is incredibly and enjoyably social. On the other hand, she rarely lasts more than an hour and a half being out, so I almost never visit friends or do much outside of the home besides running errands. It feels like I've been under house arrest. And so many other things. The breastfeeding not working out. Making formula every day. Cloth diapers. Weekly trips to Herbie's to see what we else we might try. Chiropractic treatments. I have an appointment with an integrative medicine pediatrician in Newport Beach on Thursday to try to figure out what is going on with little A.
It's really, really tough. I have a hard time admitting it, and feel weak doing so. But recently a few people have challenged me to be more honest about where I am at, and the toll all of this has taken. So there it is. I confess, I'm having a hard time.