Let me preface this post with "I love my daughter more than anyone in the entire world."
Now... I can begin.
The last few days have been tough. Emotionally and to a point, physically.
I. HIT. MY WALL.
I thought that I had already hit my wall (a few times), but no, this wall reared it's ugly head 10 months AFTER the most amazing experience of my life.
I have spoken before about our issues with sleep in this house; issues being that none of us are getting a whole lot of it, and on top of that- I am finding through anxiety and stress, insomnia has now descended like a black cloud. It IS true, I guess sleep be-gets sleep.
So Sunday and Monday were two of the most emotionally difficult days I have had as a Mother, the solitary 1 hour of kip I had Saturday night was enough to tip me over the edge.
Sunday I felt physically sick through lack of sleep; wobbly legs, light headed, my skin was white as a ghost. My amazingly supportive and intuitive husband read me and knew that maybe an Avalon and Daddy day was needed and I was sent to bed, begrudgingly I might add, as I was missing a beautiful day with my family (Murphy's Law- the weather was divine!) The guilt set in, even though there was no way I could leave the house.
I drifted in and out of sleep over a 4 hour period (10am until 2pm) before we had visitors; I could only be social somewhat and again took myself back to bed (no sleep.)
Monday I decided it was time to ask for help- both reaching out to my on-line friends (YOU save me.) and also to the local GP- I felt I couldn't put it off much longer.
I. GOT. SHOT. DOWN. I can hardly go into what happened during that appointment but suffice to say I was given;
a) no support
b) no solution
c) nowhere to turn.
I really do not have the energy or time to pour into this post how negative and soul destroying that 15 minute consultation was but my friends and family know. I was wrecked. I was done.
I couldn't even hide my meltdown from my friends and I am embarrassed to say, I lost it in the middle of town. Yes, I was a snivelling, snotty wreck in the high street- baby strapped to me and all.
I thank the stars that (so far) Avalon seems unaffected by these emotions; if I had seen her upset it would have magnified my feelings of helplessness. I felt useless, at the end of my tether, fed up, to some degree numb and more than anything EXHAUSTED. I was supposed to see other friends of mine that afternoon but after this meltdown I couldn't face company; lovingly, the concerned phone calls followed (I love you Mamas!) But I wasn't company for anyone.
Grant got my second meltdown of the day. I blame the stupid, heartless doctor this time. The third followed within hours. crying over nothing, me a heap on the kitchen floor. I am a little ashamed to type all this but as I am not sure who reads this anyway, I feel it cathartic to get it out further.
What started as my own issues of fatigue and insomnia, was quickly transformed through through the encounter with Dr. Evil to feelings of being inadequate and second guess the INFORMED choices I had made as a parent. How did I let this happen? How dare she?
I don't want this post to be about this darkness... I want to give a shout out to those that I could not do without; my wonderful friends and family... Those that I see every week; my fellow Mummy friends, the lovely Ledgers, my on-line community of fellow 'Attached' parents; letting me know that, hey, I am OK and YES, I am doing a pretty good job. They are the reason I spend my time on Facebook(Wastebook), immersing myself in a community of like-minded Mamas who support each other when the 'mainstream' turn up their noses at us.
Most importantly, THANK YOU Grant, I hardly have the words.... but you know what you mean to me. You put up with a lot.
Where would I be without YOU.... all.
