Below is a blog I wrote in the middle of mental exhaustion last night. I read it this morning and I wasn’t going to publish it. It’s largely negative, very self-centred and ultimately does no good for anyone. I also don’t want people to think that all I do is moan; the thing is, I often blog when I have an extreme emotion that needs to be vanquished. Nonetheless, I do want to start blogging about cheerful things again, because, believe it or not, I’m actually happy most of the time! Plus, the joy that Ru and Nell bring me far outweighs any feelings I have during the night.
Ultimately, I’ve decided to press the Go Live button because this blog is called The Honest Parent and it wouldn’t be honest if I hid my thoughts. So here it goes, mothers, get ready to think ‘yep, you and every other mother, love!’
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My personality is one where I cope and I cope until I can’t cope anymore. Then I melt down. Tonight I’ve hit that wall. My body aches. My knees are shot from bouncing. My back hurts from carrying. My ears are ringing with screams and my mind is being held together by a patchwork of caffeine and sertraline. Tonight I want to walk out the door and just keep walking.
Ru is adorable (note I’ve stopped spelling it ‘Roo’). Happy and engaging, he is a dream baby during the day, but he has never been a wonderful sleeper. Until three months he was awake every two and a half hours. It was a killer, I was tired, but I was managing. He improved, but then the four month regression hit…early. Since that time, it’s not the middle of the night that’s been the problem, it’s been going to sleep in the first place.
First off, only I can get him down. Fine. Whatever. It’s not the end of the world and means one parent looks after Nell and the other after Ru. That’s a simple split and one both I and Husband are happy enough with. The problem comes about 45 mins later when he wakes, and he screams. And he screams. And he screams. There is no consoling him. None at all. Sometimes extra breastfeeding helps, sometimes not. But call me mad, I’m reluctant to feed him this time. I know it’s only been an hour since he ate. I know he’s not hungry and I know that if I give in and feed him again (which I always do eventually), then Husband will never be able to settle him.
Added to this pain, there’s Nell. Her sleep has been disturbed too. There are nights when we are woken twice by her in addition to Ru. Whether it’s nightmares or insomnia, she creeps into our room, invariably waking Ru in the process. Furthermore, when he wakes (but she’s asleep) I’m anxious to calm him quickly so his screams don’t wake her. The poor little love is so tired at the moment and I have overwhelming guilt that her state of being is my fault.
You’ve got to laugh (or do you?), just a few days ago, I thought we were coming out of it. We had one night where he didn’t wake up after 45 mins and I allowed myself to get excited. More fool me because 24 hours later I’m sitting downstairs listening as he screams himself horse and Husband tries to calm him. This is the first time I’ve agreed to step away completely, but I can feel my willpower cracking. I don’t want to go back up there, but I want him to stop screaming. Please. Please stop screaming. I know Husband is doing the best job he can and I love him for all the effort he puts into keeping me calm.
In my defense, it’s been a tough few days. I’ve worked my butt off giving Nell a great birthday, and I think I succeeded, but it left me tired. It’s taken two days to get the house completely clear after her birthday dinner. Then today, she’s been in a particularly whiny mood. She can’t do anything and nothing I do to help is good enough. I can’t get my shoes off mum. I can’t hang my coat up mum. I can’t turn the tap off mum. Can’t can’t can’t. She tells me she wants her daddy and she doesn’t want me. It’s no surprise; I wouldn’t want me right now either.
Worse, I know my face is showing the strain as one lady I know looked at me this afternoon and kindly asked if I’d ‘been through it’ today. I also know, of course, that exhaustion makes it much harder than normal to cope with the night’s screamfest. But tonight I had been looking forward to one night downstairs with my husband. One night. Oh well. I better go upstairs and feed him…the screams have been going 45 mins and I don’t think I can take it much longer.
[Interlude]
He’s down and I’ve gone to bed. My total time spent downstairs and in adult company today was twenty minutes.
I know things aren’t helped by the knowledge that I’m meant to be going out in a few weeks. My first evening out. As he cries, my brain starts to spiral. How can I go if I know he’s going to wake up and Matt is going to have to call me back to help? How can I have a drink and relax? I don’t think if I can and that insight is upsetting me in advance of the fact. I so badly want to feel like a person again and not just a milk machine or a human punchbag for a baby that is out of control.
Yes, I know that the experiences I’m having are nothing unusual. They’re not unique and many of you reading this will be thinking, yeah, and?? Charlotte, you just need to get on with it! And you’d be right. Lots of people have been through what I’m going through, some will have handled it worse, most will have handled it better. I am conscious of moaning or complaining when the women around me have been through this exact stage of child rearing. At the start they have sympathy, but they’ll only have that for so long before they start thinking I need to shut up and deal. It’s true, I absolutely do need to.
Everything in life and with children is a phase. We will come through the other side and forget how difficult this time really was. Perhaps we will even look back with rose tinted glasses and comment about how easily we navigated Ru’s early months. If so, I do hope this blog serves as a small, just a small, reminder.
The Honest Parent 