The Great Schisms

Between
Happiness and Depression
Contentment and Anxiety
Gratefulness and Fear

*warning: though written out, this may sound much more severe than it is - pay attention to the good things as well as the bad because they are not thrown in just for saving face.

Torn and I think it's giving me a headache, so I want to write it all out and see where it takes me.

I am depressed right now, this moment... or... fragile - is that a better, less scary word? I can't fit into anything yet. Have lost 14 pounds since birth of baby and yet I feel like there is such a mountain of weight yet to climb. Point being, I can't even seem to deal with going out in public, getting dressed is a nightmare. Just wear my pregnancy clothes, you suggest? The problem is I'm not the right shape now for any clothes. Pre-pregnancy (ha. ha. don't even joke). Pregnancy tops - half are two small for my milk laden chest and half are belly enhancing - all the better to look cute during pregnancy - not quite as cute when the belly being enhanced doesn't hold a baby. Pregnancy bottoms... well... everything relating to anything is just a bit uncomfortable. Part of it is the general injuries of birth along with perpetual bleeding and part of it is just the feeling of WEIGHT... it's just uncomfortable to be this heavy.

Give myself time!!! (You say)... Look, I know. You have no idea how well I know it just takes time and it is actually much easier than it looks. Last post-pregnancy it was exactly the same. I lost 15 pounds right away and then seemed to stall. I can't remember if it was 3 weeks post birth or 6 weeks but I went and spent 100 dollars at banana republic, trying to be good about accepting that it would take time and I just needed clothes in the meantime and I never did wear those jeans because another 10-15 pounds came off like a day later like magic. I am not intentionally giving myself a hard time about this. I do not even feel badly towards myself. I don't blame myself or anything wacky like that. It's just hard. Worth it? EVERY single minute.

To be armchair psychologist for a moment, I wanted to say something about the hospital... because I think I'm shoving it down and giving myself a headache. So about after birth in general. About pregnancy in general. There are so many indignities that go along with the processess. There are so many things happening to one's body and one's ability to be 'normal' - and so many of these things I wish dearly I didn't know about much less wish to share them with someone else. There's swelling and bleeding and pain... issues about the potty and sex and bras and panties and everything that is unmentionable. And it's not unmentionable because people would be mean about it, (though it would make a fair number of people uncomfortable discussing), but it's unmentionable because I am uncomfortable discussing it. I am uncomfortable with people knowing, with someone having any number of images in their head.

Also because I don't want to be reminded of the things that most embarrass me when I'm out and about, when I'm doing well somewhere in public or at an event for example, I don't want to be reminded how worried I was about which size panty-liner will work for the current blood flow.

At the hospital there are indignities that I'm sure everyone suffers in one way or another when one is at the mercy of medicine. There were a few people at the hospital that made those indignities bearable and fine and completely okay because look, you've just had a baby, don't be stupid, of course you can't get out of bed on your own the first time. And there were a few people at the hospital that made it horribly horribly mortifying. What I don't understand about psychology is if I know what is right, if I know what I believe and what should be and what shouldn't be - why is it still mortifying when someone is WRONG. All the RNs that were in charge of the floor during my recovery were just fantastic. Everything was nice and matter of fact and if I did anything stupid or horribly embarrassing they didn't blink an eyelash. It was whoever the people are at the desk that drag themselves to your room if the RN isn't immediately available. It was the rather odd pair of RNs that did the birth (really fine - a bit wacky as I said before during the birth but fine) after the birth who were hyper and just... weird... and who seemed to never dealt with a woman who's lower half isn't working due to an epidural.

It's the combination of all of it - the pain, the anticipation, the hormones, the trauma, the experience, the embarrassment that ended up making me feel isolated. How can I share what I refuse to share? Steve, for better or worse, knows all... and he wouldn't have the first time around. So I'm so relieved we are where we are now. Still... its not just the indignity itself. It's not just the pain and the difficulty sharing what's really going on - there is this sense of failure? or inability to do what needs doing. If I overdo it, then I'm just delaying the healing. I get that. It still drives me up the wall to admit that I need Steve to go pick up the food even though I know he'd rather not. To ask.

Then there's the happiness. I am so totally fine - anxious only now and then. I am so totally thrilled that Jack is out. That there were no emergencies. That I am on the road to recovery. The pain at the beginning versus the pain now - there is no comparison. I am almost walking totally upright! That I have my mom here working like a trooper constantly. That Jack's little man procedure went fine and is basically healed, That Abby is doing SO well with Jack. That she is mine mine mine. That my mom made turtle cookies, that the extended families are all doing well. That Jack is nursing and being generally wonderful and easy. That he doesn't seem yellow, that my dad has given Abby escape from the craziness. That my mom's place is a sanctuary for Abby. That my mom will soon be close... That we could afford new furniture downstairs and there is the promise of some steady income that if we budget appropriately, we don't have to go into debt constantly. That we are on the right track in every way...

Which brings us to matters of faith again. I think if I had dealt better with the trials of the last... eight years or so, that I would feel less... unworthy of everything falling into place at the moment. It's raining and pouring blessings. And I am completely overwhelmed with relief.... and fear.

BUT I'm not going to go into that because I do not believe that is how God works, so I'm just not going to think it thru, just remind myself that that is not how God works.

So... there it is. There may be more that leaks out later, but for now, mini-munchkin has been given back to me (Steve gives me tons of time by holding the bundle while he plays xbox - Steve plays - Jack sleeps or watches) and my brain ceases to function in any mode other than mommy mode when I've got him still.

Speaking of - he is so beautiful and tiny and wonderful.

He looks like Abby so much sometimes that it feels like I'm getting the ultiimate treat of going back in time to appreciate that first experience all the more. Don't worry though, I'm fully respecting Jack's individuality and masculinity!