Days of Our Lives

Good morning! Actually, it’s noon and I’ve been up since 6 am and would die for a nap, but Madeleine is in kindergarten and this week she hasn’t been sick, so there’s no time to waste on catching up on sleep- haha.

I’ve been a busy bee all week and today I thought I’d continue in the same spirit and get lots of stuff done, but when I came back from walking Sam after dropping Madeleine off at kindergarten, I felt so happy to be home alone on a sunny day I decided it can all wait till Monday. πŸ˜‰

So I’m writing an entry on the beloved child and how I thought there was something wrong with me for the better part of her first year and sometimes I still do. πŸ˜‰

Being under medication for depression (turns out it was anxiety, but it’s the same pill), I was terrified of getting a nasty post partum depression. I was also afraid she might die in her sleep (sudden infant death syndrome), ’cause you read about that, too. What I was totally unprepared for was however everything else- the extent of exhaustion I would feel, how I mourned the life we had before and the resentment towards others who seemed to deal with a newborn so much better than me and still wish for a second child.

I’m on the clock, so I’ll make it short and sweet. I kind of instinctively knew I woudn’t enjoy breastfeeding, I’ve never even liked to see others do it and always figured I’d use a shawl myself, but when she wouldn’t nurse at all and if she tried it felt like a snake biting my boob, I knew it was not for me. However, society has lots of opinions about breastfeeding and it was difficult to find help to stop, the doctor wouldn’t even prescribe me medication, I had to tie my breasts with a scarf and sleep like that for 10 days or so. It was such a nightmare, I’m still traumatized.

Another thing I didn’t know before having her was that I would spend so much time worrying. These days it’s getting increasingly better, but for a year now, everything has been a potential “weapon of mass destruction”. If you forget a pen on the table, she’ll grab it and put it in her mouth, if she gets the chance, she’s going to climb down from the couch head first, she’s tasting her bath water whenever you turn your head for a split second and finding dust bunnies to swallow in every corner. πŸ˜‰

Boy, am I happy she started kindergarten and I’m back to joggling work, our dog Sam and everything else in between! I even joke about being the typical Eastern European Jack of all trades, I have no idea how you ladies who work full time do it, because between dentist’s and chiropractor’s appointments, Madeleine being sent home with fever yet again and squeezing in a bit of work here and there, there’s literally no time left for anything. And if things get better after a while in terms of communication and understanding each other, the difficulty now is to make her eat enough or diversely enough. Plus we had some weeks after she started kindergarten when she literally wouldn’t sleep unless I climbed in bed with her, on account of separation anxiety. And when I tried to leave she woke up crying again. And although you love your child more than anything, you’re tired and you’ve been eyeballing that beer since 15 o’clock and all you want is a hot shower and an hour to yourself.

So it’s been rough. So rough I had to remind myself how happy I am she’s here. How lucky we are to have had her at all. How precious she is, how she makes us laugh all day long. And that she’ll grow up and continue to fill our home with joy. And worries. haha!

So I’m leaving you here and getting ready for a lovely weekend with pancakes and cosy dinosaur screams from 6:30 in the morning. πŸ˜‰ And if you don’t love every minute of it, it’s ok. πŸ˜‰

xxx, Alina

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