Barely Hanging On

If there is anyone out there who still reads this pitiful blog, I'm sure that you have noticed that I am not blogging much anymore. I am almost a week late in getting Emily's monthly letter posted (again) and to be honest, I'm really not concerned about it. It will get typed someday, but not today. I'm just not feeling it.

I can't blog when Denny is at work unless Emily is asleep. The second I sit down at the computer she wants to be in my lap, punching at the keys with me and grabbing every. single. thing. that is on top of the desk. When Emily is asleep, there are so many things that I need and want to do, and blogging is just not on top of that list. I'd rather just nap right along with her or hang out on the couch doing absolutely nothing. Plus, she is such a light sleeper that tapping the keys would wake her up, even though she is in another room. And believe me when I say that I do not do anything to sabotage her naps.

Sleep is very precious and hard to come by these days. Emily insists on staying up past midnight every night and it is in the wee hours of the morning that I get time to myself. Once I am finally in the bed I find it hard to fall asleep and I toss and turn for what feels like hours. I can't settle myself down because I am constantly thinking that as soon as I fall asleep, she will wake up and cry for me to come and get her. Even though she is 9 months old and fully capable of sleeping through the night, she doesn't. And she hasn't since she was 2 months old. She wakes at least twice every night to eat and once she wakes the first time, it is impossible to get her to sleep in her crib any longer. I try to put her down but she wakes up as soon as her body touches the mattress.

These sleep issues are a major problem for me right now. This morning she got up at 9:00 a.m. (not by her choice, I woke her up) which is several hours earlier than normal. I thought that since she got up so early that she would go to bed early, but that is not happening. Actually, she went to sleep around 10:00 and she woke up when I put her in her crib. It is after midnight and she is currently playing on the living room floor. I cannot even begin to describe how distraught I was when she woke up and wouldn't go back to sleep. I cried. I thought things I should not be thinking. I wanted to hit something (not her). I wanted to go outside and scream. I wanted to leave and not come back until I got the call that she was asleep in her bed. I wanted the responsibility of putting her to bed to be lifted from my shoulders for just one night. I just wanted her to go to sleep.

That distraught feeling has been creeping up so regularly lately that it is becoming normal for me. I feel like I am barely hanging on for most hours of the day and I don't know how to make it better. I constantly struggle with guilt - I feel like it is my fault that she is the way she is, but in the back of my mind, I know that she is just a baby and her sleep issues and separation anxiety are normal and not nearly as bad as they could be. All of those feelings piled on top of one another, along with the sleep deprivation, are slowly pushing me over the edge.

I thought that postpartum depression was something that happened in the weeks after having a baby, but I googled it tonight and I am feeling a little relieved that only about half of the symptoms describe the way I have been feeling. I am also scared to death because half of the symptoms describe me precisely. I am not happy. I do not find joy in being a mother at this point in Emily's life. I have been joyful in the past, but right now, I feel more burdened by her than I feel blessed by her. It is so hard to admit that last sentence, but it is the truth. And it's not just the sleep issues. It is so much more.

It's the being with her 24/7 and rarely getting a break. It's the help that I rarely receive from my husband. It's the pooping right after she has had a bath and is in her "bedtime" diaper. It is the whining. It's the wanting to be held all of the time, especially when she is sleeping, which leaves me with NO free time some days. It's the lack of a social life. It's the struggling to make ends meet because I no longer bring in a paycheck. It's just so many things that make me dread tomorrow instead of looking forward to another day.

I never, ever thought I would do this, but I am going to give Emily formula. Shocking, huh? This does not mean that I am weaning her, which is good, because she is so attached to these bosoms that it would be stupid and pointless to even try. What it does mean, is that even if it's only for one day a week, I am going to have some time to myself without having to rush back before her next feeding. I am no longer able to get any milk out with my breast pump and because of that I can never be away from her for more than three hours at a time. I don't want to have to do that, but a few bottles a week is not going to kill her. I have breastfed for a lot longer than many women breastfeed their babies and I am proud that I have gotten this far without having to supplement. It's for my sanity's sake. It is better to give her formula than to *literally* lose my mind and have to take medication to feel better. It is better to give her formula than to risk losing my cool and hitting her instead of hitting the wall (or the door or my head).

I might spend my free time going back to work as a substitute teacher to give myself something to do and to also feel less worthless. Or I might hang out in the library and read books and magazines. I might window shop and look at pretty things. Or I might try to fix the sewing machine and make some pretty things. Whatever I do, I must do it for me, and also for Emily. I could not ever imagine my life without her, but by no means do I need to be right beside her every second of every day. It's just not working out.