everything is different
Yes, giving birth was the hardest thing I had ever done. But this is harder.
...which is not to say that it's not exactly what I want to be doing right now, and that it is unquestionably "worth it." But parenthood has definitely gone right for my mushy parts, the parts I didn't know were there, and probably exactly where I need to be poked and prodded and healed. It is making me stronger, meaner, more blunt - especially to myself. Boy, I really needed those slaps in the face today, thanks - I look forward to more tomorrow, after a crappy night's sleep.
I guess the only thing I'm really worried about at this point is, should I really be this anxious all the time? Is this normal - or do I need to go on one of those medications that make extra sure it doesn't get to your nursing baby. Scratch that, I wouldn't take the drugs. But does having a panic attack on Highway 1 make me crazy? How about checking on Amelia, oh, twenty or so times in two hours after putting her to bed? What about the crying - not every day anymore, but close. I'm actually seeing a therapist now, so she should have all these answers, in theory, but she seems to think I'm fine, and everything will be solved by getting more sleep. Maybe she's right.
The other thing that gets me is just plain thinking too much. I think about the societal implications of how Joel's dad's family treats me, and crap like that. But part of me really thinks it's valid - there's like this whole side of feminism that I didn't know existed before. Maybe it's because it didn't exist, because feminism doesn't acknowledge or support mothers because it has historically been reactionary by saying "we're not just baby machines." Well, yes. But what about the baby machines? Who's going to support us, and all the unpaid work we do? I mean, if I were working any other job at these hours, and doing it this well, and if I happened to be the very best person on the planet to do this job, I would be getting paid bank and getting all my other needs taken care of. Like, someone would be cleaning my house, at the very least. But instead people are like, oh can I come over and talk to you and hold your baby? Which would normally be fine, except people don't seem to get that EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED. There is no more NORMAL in the life of Becca, and I'm not going to pretend there is anymore. Because I've been pretending, saying things are great, no I'm not freaking out at midnight because I'm a paranoid new mom, no I'm not having panic attacks because I miss my baby so bad on my way home from working part-time, no I'm not having trouble getting myself a decent meal, either. So instead I should say, sure you can come over, and while you're at it put a load of laundry in, sweep my floors, make me food, and then you can hold the baby. beeatch.
...which is not to say that it's not exactly what I want to be doing right now, and that it is unquestionably "worth it." But parenthood has definitely gone right for my mushy parts, the parts I didn't know were there, and probably exactly where I need to be poked and prodded and healed. It is making me stronger, meaner, more blunt - especially to myself. Boy, I really needed those slaps in the face today, thanks - I look forward to more tomorrow, after a crappy night's sleep.
I guess the only thing I'm really worried about at this point is, should I really be this anxious all the time? Is this normal - or do I need to go on one of those medications that make extra sure it doesn't get to your nursing baby. Scratch that, I wouldn't take the drugs. But does having a panic attack on Highway 1 make me crazy? How about checking on Amelia, oh, twenty or so times in two hours after putting her to bed? What about the crying - not every day anymore, but close. I'm actually seeing a therapist now, so she should have all these answers, in theory, but she seems to think I'm fine, and everything will be solved by getting more sleep. Maybe she's right.
The other thing that gets me is just plain thinking too much. I think about the societal implications of how Joel's dad's family treats me, and crap like that. But part of me really thinks it's valid - there's like this whole side of feminism that I didn't know existed before. Maybe it's because it didn't exist, because feminism doesn't acknowledge or support mothers because it has historically been reactionary by saying "we're not just baby machines." Well, yes. But what about the baby machines? Who's going to support us, and all the unpaid work we do? I mean, if I were working any other job at these hours, and doing it this well, and if I happened to be the very best person on the planet to do this job, I would be getting paid bank and getting all my other needs taken care of. Like, someone would be cleaning my house, at the very least. But instead people are like, oh can I come over and talk to you and hold your baby? Which would normally be fine, except people don't seem to get that EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED. There is no more NORMAL in the life of Becca, and I'm not going to pretend there is anymore. Because I've been pretending, saying things are great, no I'm not freaking out at midnight because I'm a paranoid new mom, no I'm not having panic attacks because I miss my baby so bad on my way home from working part-time, no I'm not having trouble getting myself a decent meal, either. So instead I should say, sure you can come over, and while you're at it put a load of laundry in, sweep my floors, make me food, and then you can hold the baby. beeatch.