I've developed a bad habit. When the baby wakes up at night, I stumble to the livingroom and turn on the TV for light and watch the early morning news on CBS while he feeds. Since I usually only have an hour or two left of night, I typically just lay on the couch with him snuggled on my chest until DH wakes us up at 6.
My child is officially too big and restless to sleep with me anymore. This morning I woke from a very wierd and vivid dream to his whimpers. A disoriented me found him head first towards the floor with only his feet left on the sofa. He had not hit the floor but was wedged between the sofa and the bouncy chair slowly sliding towards wiping out on the carpet.
I immediately grab his feet with one hand and rescue him with the other. He never woke fully up but snuggled back into my chest and snoozed. I on the other hand stayed stock still and awake for the next half hour until I heard the alarm going off from the bedroom.
Catastophe averted but my lazy sofa surfing mornings are officially over. I knew it was coming but I'm definitely going to miss it. Since I feel like worst parent of the year after this mornings episode I'm not willing to try and stretch it out either. One time is one time too many even if no injuries were sustained and he never woke up enough to remember it!
My baby is growing up way too fast, getting so big and all my little infant joys are being stripped away one by one. ::cries::
Showing posts with label Scares. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scares. Show all posts
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
I think I may need help of the mental variety
I feel like my mental stability as a mom is coming unhinged. I've been rationalizing it as sleep deprivation because this week has been hell. I've been racking my brain and studying symptoms etc to see if it's something wrong with him causing him to be so fussy besides colic. Does he have reflux? Is he getting enough to eat?
Thursday my milk supply TANKED. So I increased the pumping, ordered FENUGREEK and Mother's MILK TEA and upped the oatmeal and food intake because I had started skipping meals again dealing with a fussy baby.
Everything had to do with HIM being fussy but that doesn't excuse the things I've done or thoughts I've had.
Last night I wasn't alert. He was screaming and i was in a fog. I was literally running into furniture and doorways and stumbling down the hall while holding him to change his diaper. That's not safe.
As I'm trying to change him he is full on screaming and kicking and I'm struggling just to get a diaper on. How is a 5 week old that strong and how is that I can't seem to "overpower" a 5 week olds legs to fasten some velcro tabs? And I'm telling him in a firm voice to "stop." Yea, because that's going to work.
I'm trying to burp him him and he's flailing fists and his head in my face and clawing at my chest. My chest is actually sore and I can't figure that out because I clip his nails every week. They are not long. Again, I'm telling him to "Stop, you are hurting mommy." Why do I bother? What possesses me to try and rationalize with an irate new born?
I'm so mad but I can't figure out if I'm mad at him, mad at my DH for being oblivious to all of this and giving me no help or support this week, mad at the world because I'm so tired I can't think straight or what. He is fighting me so hard he didn't even want to take the boob and I was being stubborn and not feeding him a bottle because I'm trying to get my supply up and I new damn well there was milk in the tits. I could feel it. He just wanted to scream and flail and suck on his fists instead. One point he grabbed my nipple (I'm sure by complete accident as he doesn't ahve control of his limbs yet) but once he got ahold of it he clamped down and wouldn't let go and was trying to rip it off. The same nipple that he has created a blister on from sucking so roughly. The same nipple he tried to rip off with his mouther earlier by bashing his head side to side with a hell of a latch going.
I think I may have been screaming in pain louder than him at this point. DH slept through it all.
Then when I didn't think I could take anymore he fell asleep in my arms while I rocked him and my tears fell on his face. I put him in his crib for the first time to actually get him away from me because I was so emotionally confused.
He slept for about 45 minutes and we started all over again. I finally broke down to give him a bottle and as I sit down with him he immediately stops crying and the most amazing smile lights up his face as he looks at me and I lose it.
I sat there while he happily sucked down a bottle and cried my eyes out.
I'm an emotional wreck. Most of the time I'm fine but there are hours when he is screaming that I get so confused at night on what I'm feeling. Last night as an added bonus I had gone through family crisis earlier in the evening. My dad had run over my sisters dog and left him there thinking he wasn't hurt that badly instead of taking him to the vet because he was in a hurry. My sister was irate and then called me from the emergency vet bawling her eyes out because the dogs pelvis, legs and base of his spine were shattered. This was her children's dog. They are 6 and 3. She had to put him down. I had to talk her through it while crying with her. Then I had to call my mom and warn her that all hell was going to break loose when she got home and Dad better run. As it turned out, my father was devastated when he found out. He really thought he had just bumped into him with the corner of the trailer he was pulling. He didn't realize the trailer had ran over him. He punched a wall, messed up his hand and they thought he was going to have a heartattack while he was burying the dog because he was crying so hard blaming himself he wasn't breathing. I'm dealing with all of this over the phone as they all live on a farm over an hour away and my kid is screaming the entire time as well. Last night, every time I drifted off for a cat nap in his quiet moments all of it replayed in my head...including the scene where the dog gets hit as if I were there. W.T.F. I'm losing my everloving mind.
I want to protect my son. I love him more than words can say but sometimes when I'm so tired that I'm a physical menace to both of us and I just don't have the mental capacity to even to through the motions I think I need to protect him from me.
I'm sick of hearing "Sleep when he sleeps." I can't fucking sleep. There is too much to do. There is laundry to be done because he pees through everything. There's bottles to be washed. I have to pump to stimulate my milk. I have to try and shove something passable as food down my throat to stimulate my milk. I have to do dishes and cook in order to have said food. I have to do our laundry. I have to take care of insurance claims and pay bills and go to the grocery store and Dr's appointments. That doesn't include the other household chores and yardwork that I have completely let go. I have dust buffalo hiding under my barstools because I haven't so much as swiffered my hardwoods in over a week. I haven't vacuumed in prob. four. I can see dust on my furniture. My flowerbeds are weed beds and there's overturned patio furniture on the porch from all the storms. If you drive by my house you would think we were Sampson and Son it looks so bad right now. AND IT DRIVES ME INSANE because I can't stop thinking about it or trying to get SOMEthing DONE IF i HAVE a spare ten minutes.
On his good days, things are awesome. Even on some of his bad days they are still great...but there have been two or three times in this hell week that I've been like this.
I despise medicines. I don't want to subject him to antidepressents. If I have to go on meds, breastfeeding is probably over. Part of me wants to give up breastfeeding and the other part of me can't. I feel like such a failure right now. As a wife, a mom, a sane human being.
Thursday my milk supply TANKED. So I increased the pumping, ordered FENUGREEK and Mother's MILK TEA and upped the oatmeal and food intake because I had started skipping meals again dealing with a fussy baby.
Everything had to do with HIM being fussy but that doesn't excuse the things I've done or thoughts I've had.
Last night I wasn't alert. He was screaming and i was in a fog. I was literally running into furniture and doorways and stumbling down the hall while holding him to change his diaper. That's not safe.
As I'm trying to change him he is full on screaming and kicking and I'm struggling just to get a diaper on. How is a 5 week old that strong and how is that I can't seem to "overpower" a 5 week olds legs to fasten some velcro tabs? And I'm telling him in a firm voice to "stop." Yea, because that's going to work.
I'm trying to burp him him and he's flailing fists and his head in my face and clawing at my chest. My chest is actually sore and I can't figure that out because I clip his nails every week. They are not long. Again, I'm telling him to "Stop, you are hurting mommy." Why do I bother? What possesses me to try and rationalize with an irate new born?
I'm so mad but I can't figure out if I'm mad at him, mad at my DH for being oblivious to all of this and giving me no help or support this week, mad at the world because I'm so tired I can't think straight or what. He is fighting me so hard he didn't even want to take the boob and I was being stubborn and not feeding him a bottle because I'm trying to get my supply up and I new damn well there was milk in the tits. I could feel it. He just wanted to scream and flail and suck on his fists instead. One point he grabbed my nipple (I'm sure by complete accident as he doesn't ahve control of his limbs yet) but once he got ahold of it he clamped down and wouldn't let go and was trying to rip it off. The same nipple that he has created a blister on from sucking so roughly. The same nipple he tried to rip off with his mouther earlier by bashing his head side to side with a hell of a latch going.
I think I may have been screaming in pain louder than him at this point. DH slept through it all.
Then when I didn't think I could take anymore he fell asleep in my arms while I rocked him and my tears fell on his face. I put him in his crib for the first time to actually get him away from me because I was so emotionally confused.
He slept for about 45 minutes and we started all over again. I finally broke down to give him a bottle and as I sit down with him he immediately stops crying and the most amazing smile lights up his face as he looks at me and I lose it.
I sat there while he happily sucked down a bottle and cried my eyes out.
I'm an emotional wreck. Most of the time I'm fine but there are hours when he is screaming that I get so confused at night on what I'm feeling. Last night as an added bonus I had gone through family crisis earlier in the evening. My dad had run over my sisters dog and left him there thinking he wasn't hurt that badly instead of taking him to the vet because he was in a hurry. My sister was irate and then called me from the emergency vet bawling her eyes out because the dogs pelvis, legs and base of his spine were shattered. This was her children's dog. They are 6 and 3. She had to put him down. I had to talk her through it while crying with her. Then I had to call my mom and warn her that all hell was going to break loose when she got home and Dad better run. As it turned out, my father was devastated when he found out. He really thought he had just bumped into him with the corner of the trailer he was pulling. He didn't realize the trailer had ran over him. He punched a wall, messed up his hand and they thought he was going to have a heartattack while he was burying the dog because he was crying so hard blaming himself he wasn't breathing. I'm dealing with all of this over the phone as they all live on a farm over an hour away and my kid is screaming the entire time as well. Last night, every time I drifted off for a cat nap in his quiet moments all of it replayed in my head...including the scene where the dog gets hit as if I were there. W.T.F. I'm losing my everloving mind.
I want to protect my son. I love him more than words can say but sometimes when I'm so tired that I'm a physical menace to both of us and I just don't have the mental capacity to even to through the motions I think I need to protect him from me.
I'm sick of hearing "Sleep when he sleeps." I can't fucking sleep. There is too much to do. There is laundry to be done because he pees through everything. There's bottles to be washed. I have to pump to stimulate my milk. I have to try and shove something passable as food down my throat to stimulate my milk. I have to do dishes and cook in order to have said food. I have to do our laundry. I have to take care of insurance claims and pay bills and go to the grocery store and Dr's appointments. That doesn't include the other household chores and yardwork that I have completely let go. I have dust buffalo hiding under my barstools because I haven't so much as swiffered my hardwoods in over a week. I haven't vacuumed in prob. four. I can see dust on my furniture. My flowerbeds are weed beds and there's overturned patio furniture on the porch from all the storms. If you drive by my house you would think we were Sampson and Son it looks so bad right now. AND IT DRIVES ME INSANE because I can't stop thinking about it or trying to get SOMEthing DONE IF i HAVE a spare ten minutes.
On his good days, things are awesome. Even on some of his bad days they are still great...but there have been two or three times in this hell week that I've been like this.
I despise medicines. I don't want to subject him to antidepressents. If I have to go on meds, breastfeeding is probably over. Part of me wants to give up breastfeeding and the other part of me can't. I feel like such a failure right now. As a wife, a mom, a sane human being.
Friday, November 19, 2010
A day of unease
So I had quite an experience yesterday. One I would rather not repeat. It started out innocent enough with my body flushing out everything like the Drop Slide at a water park.
By mid morning, I was unbelievably starving and cold to the point I had the shakes. I tried to eat something but it only made me feel sick. I had on my thick sweater and my space heater and started feeling hot on the skin but was still cold…almost feverish. My face was on fire and beet red. So I had one of our guys on the production line who is our emergency responder take my blood pressure and it was 140/90.
Needless to say, I called the Dr. and they decided to have me come in. By the time I got to the Dr. an hour and a half later, my blood pressure had only come down to 138/88 so not a significant improvement. They had me lay on my left side (which I would have tried but there is no way I’m laying on a grimey concrete floor in this place) while they checked little mister and my blood sugar and pulse and oxygen levels etc. Everything was good. That beautiful little heartbeat is getting easy to find and trucks right along no matter what tortures my body is going through.
Finally, about 30 minutes later when they checked my blood pressure again it had dropped to 100 / 66. WHOA. I was by that point, lethargic but my face was still on fire and bright red. I decided it was best if I headed home and continued to lie down. I felt feverish. So I ended up sleeping on the sofa for over 2 hours under a quilt with my Doxie’s curled around me for warmth.
When I finally got up to make Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins for DH’s holiday work party, I was very pale with bright red clown circles on my cheeks.
Pretty huh?
I’m back at work today and so far so good. A little shaky, very cold and a little pale but I’m here and feeling like a bus ran over me. Tonight’s agenda is more sofa surfing with a plate full of chicken and mild pasta.
I have a busy weekend ahead and I don’t want to be feeling crappy through it or I’ll be stressed out next week trying to get ready for Thanksgiving and Stress is the LAST thing I need. Plus I have some exciting blog posts planned and I need my energy to get to them!
By mid morning, I was unbelievably starving and cold to the point I had the shakes. I tried to eat something but it only made me feel sick. I had on my thick sweater and my space heater and started feeling hot on the skin but was still cold…almost feverish. My face was on fire and beet red. So I had one of our guys on the production line who is our emergency responder take my blood pressure and it was 140/90.
Needless to say, I called the Dr. and they decided to have me come in. By the time I got to the Dr. an hour and a half later, my blood pressure had only come down to 138/88 so not a significant improvement. They had me lay on my left side (which I would have tried but there is no way I’m laying on a grimey concrete floor in this place) while they checked little mister and my blood sugar and pulse and oxygen levels etc. Everything was good. That beautiful little heartbeat is getting easy to find and trucks right along no matter what tortures my body is going through.
Finally, about 30 minutes later when they checked my blood pressure again it had dropped to 100 / 66. WHOA. I was by that point, lethargic but my face was still on fire and bright red. I decided it was best if I headed home and continued to lie down. I felt feverish. So I ended up sleeping on the sofa for over 2 hours under a quilt with my Doxie’s curled around me for warmth.
When I finally got up to make Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins for DH’s holiday work party, I was very pale with bright red clown circles on my cheeks.
I’m back at work today and so far so good. A little shaky, very cold and a little pale but I’m here and feeling like a bus ran over me. Tonight’s agenda is more sofa surfing with a plate full of chicken and mild pasta.
I have a busy weekend ahead and I don’t want to be feeling crappy through it or I’ll be stressed out next week trying to get ready for Thanksgiving and Stress is the LAST thing I need. Plus I have some exciting blog posts planned and I need my energy to get to them!
Monday, November 1, 2010
Heating Pads During Pregnancy
I actually had to Google “heating pad during pregnancy.” Why? Because I have become addicted to mine and I got worried about using it on my lower back where my pain is centered today.
I’m happy to report that they are considered generally safe though not recommended to use on your abdomen. The largest concern is heating up your core body temperature which is the same reason Hot tubs are not recommended because it can cause birth defects and miscarriage according to the March of Dimes. (at least the few articles I scanned).
So it’s better to be safe than sorry even when you feel stupid wondering about such a mundane thing as a heating pad.
Of course there are probably safer heating pads to use than mine. It’s about 20 some years old, the cover is long gone and the cord is crinkled though no wiring is exposed. This sucker gets HOT! (I’ve had red welts on my skin for days because I fell asleep on it).
Since my back problems at work were not improved any when I fell on the concrete floors Friday thanks to lovely Armorall in front of the women’s restroom, my heating pad and chiropractor will be my sidekicks for at least another week.
I’m happy to report that they are considered generally safe though not recommended to use on your abdomen. The largest concern is heating up your core body temperature which is the same reason Hot tubs are not recommended because it can cause birth defects and miscarriage according to the March of Dimes. (at least the few articles I scanned).
So it’s better to be safe than sorry even when you feel stupid wondering about such a mundane thing as a heating pad.
Of course there are probably safer heating pads to use than mine. It’s about 20 some years old, the cover is long gone and the cord is crinkled though no wiring is exposed. This sucker gets HOT! (I’ve had red welts on my skin for days because I fell asleep on it).
Since my back problems at work were not improved any when I fell on the concrete floors Friday thanks to lovely Armorall in front of the women’s restroom, my heating pad and chiropractor will be my sidekicks for at least another week.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
I Fell Last Night
You know, if I hadn't been pregnant, it probably would have been slightly funny. How can you not laugh when you are laying on top of the shower curtain with your feet in the air, water going everywhere, buttass naked with suds all over you when your husband walks in? Oh yea, because you are too worried about your baby you fought so hard for that nothing is funny.
I don't know how it happened. I slipped in the shower. It happened so fast. I just remember twisting so I wouldn't fall on my stomach. In turn, my back ended up bending over the toilet, my shoulder slammed into the sink cabinet, the backs of my legs slammed onto the side of the tub and I landed in a heap on the floor with the curtain rod javeling down on top of me. It was AWFUL.
I can barely move. I'm black and blue and so sore. It feels like I've been in a car wreck with a semi. Last night I was really scared. DH was scared and worried. I had some sharp pains in my left side but no blood. (THANK YOU RACHEL for calming me down) Everything seems fine this morning except for all the bruises and the fact that I can hardly move my right arm. I'm a mess!
I do know, it was very scary and I can't imagine going through something like that once I start showing. I'm seriously thinking about installing those tacky slip gripper stickers in my shower just to be on the safe side. I never want to feel like that again.
I'm also strongly leaning towards Grace as a middle name for a girl to counteract this klutziness. Maybe Gracen for a boy. (okay..that might be a bit of a stretch).
*Edit: It's amazing what happens to a scared father. He is now fixing our deck steps that I've been asking him to fix for months without me saying a word today. I think he's decided he has to be ahead of the game to protect his child since his wife is such a klutz. I give him total props though. He fetched me drinks, food, heating pads, and gave me a nice backrub today. Been very attentive checking my bruises and swellings. He's so sweet.
PS. Steph, THANK YOU FOR THE AWESOME CARD! It is so going in the baby book!
I don't know how it happened. I slipped in the shower. It happened so fast. I just remember twisting so I wouldn't fall on my stomach. In turn, my back ended up bending over the toilet, my shoulder slammed into the sink cabinet, the backs of my legs slammed onto the side of the tub and I landed in a heap on the floor with the curtain rod javeling down on top of me. It was AWFUL.
I can barely move. I'm black and blue and so sore. It feels like I've been in a car wreck with a semi. Last night I was really scared. DH was scared and worried. I had some sharp pains in my left side but no blood. (THANK YOU RACHEL for calming me down) Everything seems fine this morning except for all the bruises and the fact that I can hardly move my right arm. I'm a mess!
I do know, it was very scary and I can't imagine going through something like that once I start showing. I'm seriously thinking about installing those tacky slip gripper stickers in my shower just to be on the safe side. I never want to feel like that again.
I'm also strongly leaning towards Grace as a middle name for a girl to counteract this klutziness. Maybe Gracen for a boy. (okay..that might be a bit of a stretch).
*Edit: It's amazing what happens to a scared father. He is now fixing our deck steps that I've been asking him to fix for months without me saying a word today. I think he's decided he has to be ahead of the game to protect his child since his wife is such a klutz. I give him total props though. He fetched me drinks, food, heating pads, and gave me a nice backrub today. Been very attentive checking my bruises and swellings. He's so sweet.
PS. Steph, THANK YOU FOR THE AWESOME CARD! It is so going in the baby book!
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