Today I went in for my six week check up-- technically it was seven weeks. I'm so ready to say goodbye to the doctors office. Vulnerability mixed with bad memories have made the doctors a huge trigger for me. I've always kind of gotten down from doctors visits while pregnant. I guess it's a mix of:
- people stating my pregnancies must be easy because I don't throw up
- Having so many contractions, and being pregnant at the most stressful times in my life, and not having proof show up on any test, screen or listening device,
- People thinking I'm crazy or a wimp because it doesn't show up on any test, screen or listening device.
- And feeling like I know what is going on with my own body and being proven wrong, every time.
My six week check up didn't do much to totally turn me round about doctors visits. I did enjoy a fun chat with my doctor about his family-- I really like my doctor-- but not being able to muster up the strength to say more than, "I feel OK," led to a chat about anti depressants. It just made me feel like a total and complete failure all around. I know I shouldn't feel that way, but I do.
I'm sorry my posts are all so depressing lately. I find myself extremely frustrated. I'm frustrated with my weight. I'm frustrated with our van. I'm frustrated with my baby and his randomness. I'm frustrated with my kids, and the fact that we just can't do anything without it being miserable. And I'm frustrated with my situation.
Weight-
I know I'm only six weeks postpartum, but my body has taken on a new and totally different shape. OK, it's probably only totally different to me, but my hips are obviously wider then before, and that flabby skin from the twins is still hanging around. Then that little pregnancy pooch still shows it's ugly face, and I get the feeling that it's just going to stick around longer and longer with each kid. My weight gain with this baby has been depressing. I felt like I was tiny, but the scales said otherwise. I had finally gotten down to my ultimate pre-pregnancy weight after my last baby, and now I'm back to where I was after I had the twins. Ugh! It just depresses me. I was feeling so skinny until I stepped on that scale at the doctor's office.
Van-
My husband and I have been van shopping before, and we have come to the conclusion that a Chevy or Pontiac van is in our best interest.
I own a Buick Century see, and one day I had it parked next to my brothers huge Tahoe. We were at an apartment building, with three stories so we hiked to the top and gazed down. We were shocked! My Buick was as long as my brother's Tahoe. The engine compartment was the same and everything.
This meant if you kicked out the back of my Buick, built a roof over the trunk and installed the optional third row seat our Buick would have just about as much cargo room as the Tahoe. It really changed how we started looking at vehicles from then on.
A lot of vans are in the same fashion as the Tahoe, they are just as big as the Buick. The only vans that offer a third seat and still have reasonable cargo room are the Chevy's and the Pontiacs-- and probably the Buicks, we just haven't looked yet. I think the Honda Odyssey's are a little bigger too.
Anyway. . . when we heard about baby 4 we felt we should just get any van we could. This was just in hopes of being able to drive somewhere safely and legally. Well the more I asked around the more certain I became that my good old Buick would probably suit us fine for a while-- it has 3 seats in the front and 3 in the back. I kind of got off the van bandwagon, but my husband still wanted one, and he was probably right. Plus, we figured any van at all would probably be more convenient then the Buick. That was based on the consumer reports of our neighbors and friends.
Well we purchased a cheap van from an auction site. It has manual locks and windows. The radio doesn't work. The interior lights don't work. And it doesn't have two sliding doors. Our thoughts were to buy it because of our thoughts on any van being more convenient and such. Well the trade offs weren't great.
Truth is the Buick, with it's power windows and locks, doors on both sides, some working interior lights, and smoother ride, feels just about as convenient as the van. It's still good to have the two cars, but I feel like a silly goose stating that the van just isn't working for us. I mean really? How can it not be more convenient?
I guess just any van won't do. We need to stick with our original conclusions and get a Chevy or a Pontiac-- though I'm totally voting for the Buick!
Baby-
I love my babies! I love their little toes. I love when they suck on their hands. I love the cooing sounds they make when eating. I love when they smile, and I love pretending it's not just gas. And I love that my babies are sweet and good.
They are so sweet and good, in fact, that if I ever dare mention otherwise I tend to get kicked in the teeth. "Well I think he's a sweetheart"
Grrr! It drives me crazy. All my newborns, even my colicky one, fell into obvious sleeping patterns. Patterns I could see. Patterns that made life a little predictable. Patterns that led to schedules that made life wonderful. The twins just did it on their own. My colicky one did it when I finally just let him cry. And this one. . .well that's a different story.
My last child was colicky, and had to have attention and be held all the time. Me thinking I had no skills for such a child tried to do things differently then I normally would. I then quit trying to be something else and just did what I normally do-- let him cry it out, fed him at certain times and certain amounts and basically put my motherly foot down. Funny thing is it worked. So I should just do that with my next child right?
Well, I lacked the patience to do so. He didn't really cry it out. He just cried a little and stopped. Then cried a little and stopped. It drove me crazy so I would just hold him. I'd hold him for an hour until I thought he had fallen asleep enough to be put down. He'd then wake up, and I'd have to sit again. Pretty soon I had sat clear through to another feeding, and would now have to sit again and feed him. Tell me how someone does all this while having to care for 3 other kids?
I tried coming up with weird feeding schedules: feed him, burp him, feed him, burp him, change him, wrap him, feed him, burp him and hopefully he'll go to sleep. I had other variations too. With my others we just did feed, burp, change, wrap and then sleep. Simple right? Why didn't I do it with this baby? Because I lacked the patience.
Finally after all this I had enough. I decided he would just have to cry. And I would just have to muster up the patience to let him. I feed him his bottle, burp him, change him, play with him while he's awake and when he gets fussy I just let him cry. It always seems to come down to this, and this always seems to be what works for us. Why I don't just do it I don't know. I guess there's no harm in what path I take as long as we get somewhere good though.
Kids-
It's hard to have 4 kids so close. We try to go anywhere fun and I end up being the one that is misbehaving. Its so hard to accept that we can't go out and enjoy things anymore because I just love to go out and go places. And I want us to go as a family. It just ends up in misery though. And anyone I bring along to help gets stressed by it all too. I get to my wits end, and I feel like I just add to all the misery. Things were starting to get better before we had the baby. It's just so hard to have to care for a newborn in the middle of all this.
Life-
Life over all is hard. I'm trying to get it together and choose a career path. I've made so many mistakes with school and applying myself. I just want stability and security. I want to obtain a career to help support our family. One that, if I had to, I could support the family with on my own. Everything just seems to be a jumbled mess when it comes to choosing and trying though. I tried getting a job in hopes of sticking out the grunt work to get to a better place. That failed miserably. Now I'm in search of other paths, but honestly I just feel so down right now. Can I really not even stick out the grunt work for the greater good of my family? Can I really not even do it for a week? What if I'm really not as successful of an individual as I've told myself I am over the years? I just want to get us to a better place. How come that doesn't motivate me to get my butt in gear?
All this stuff has become all the more frustrating when I try to talk about it with others. I mean if I say the van isn't convenient, then why can't that just be true? After all I'm the one driving the van, do I not have the intelligence to say whether it works for us or not? Why do I have to be treated like an ungrateful monster.
If I say my well behaved newborn drives me crazy, with his random gassy/fussiness, can't that be accepted as a good and honest evaluation? I'm the one spending 24/7 with this child. Shouldn't that put me high up on the list of noteworthy opinions? Saying, "That's just how newborns are," leaves me feeling like people must question my intelligence and ability to do hard things. I've had 4 newborns I think I can determine whether or not it's different and hard. And even if it's just hard for me, it's still hard. Lets not forget that newborns are simply hard.
I don't know if any of that makes sense. I hit major writers block with those last two paragraphs. I wish I could have described it better. I usually don't write posts until I have come through the mucky ugliness and reached the other side with a clear perspective. This usually means I have found clearer ways of describing how I feel. I obviously should have waited to write this post. Bottom line, it just makes things all the more frustrating when I don't receive validation. When I don't receive validation I feel trapped. When I feel trapped I get angry. When I get angry I get ugly. Seriously, it could be compared to The Hulk.
I think people try to help me, and when they try to help they are really trying to fix. And when this turns into me still being frustrated or overwhelmed they feel like their efforts are have failed and are unappreciated. I can't blame them for being upset. They put a lot of effort into helping me out. And when they don't see the results they were hoping for I'm sure it's a huge let down. Just like me and the van. It's frustrating on my end. It's frustrating on other ends. It's just frustrating all around.
My life is just hard. There's not much to be done to fix it. Things that can be done to help are things I need to do myself. And they are things that will make life all the more harder for a while. Every little bit helps in it's way, but what helps the most is just having someone there to validate and talk to.
Sorry. Another long depressing post. I need to try and write more happy and inspiring things here. Some of that does exist in motherhood. Though I swear it gets harder to see with each child. Here's to hoping things will start looking up.
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