Monday, August 16, 2010
Things are different. The way my brain works, the way my body goes through whats left of my old routine- even the way that I flip my pancakes. Everything, in every way possible (when it comes to motherhood, at least), is different.
Evelyn is one week old.
Today all 5 of us loaded up into the van, which takes plenty of planning ahead (get the AC started, grab sippys for toddlers, diapers for the un potty trained, water for the adults, snacks for everyone, you know the drill...), and drove down the freeway for a doctors appointment. Getting the kids inside the building, up the elevator, and into the office proved to be a challenge- and after we had done it, I tried to imagine how I would ever do it all on my own.
When the doctor delivered Evelyn, he cut out quite a big area of scar tissue, resulting in the mother load of surgical staples. For the past couple of days, those surgical staples, have turned into little torches- burning me every single time I move. Yesterday I literally pulled up my magnifying mirror, grabbed a pair of tweezers, and contemplated pulling the damn things out myself. ...I didn't, of course, I let the doctor do it today (half of them were infected, and I cried like a baby when he pulled the worst ones out)- but thats just an example of the turn that my sanity has taken.
Tomorrow is my oldest daughters 4th birthday. I have mom guilt, for not doing a better job of planning a celebration for her. I wrapped all of her presents while I was still pregnant, I (sort of) put together a party, which I've since cancelled and then (sort of) put back together. I never did decide what kind of cake/cupcakes to make. Y'all know I like to overdo things. And this time, since everything has been focused on the baby, I really wanted to make Miss Eleanore feel special.
Rather than renting out a private party at the Jump Around, a local bounce house place over by where we buy our health food, we're just paying the individual fees for her and some friends to go. Two of the girls that were going to attend came down with mono, we really can't afford over $100 anyways, and having a party on a Sunday is just weird, right? The problem with not booking a "party" is, now we can't bring cupcakes into the place, and we risk the chance of our kids getting trampled by older bigger kids. What kind of a birthday party doesn't have cupcakes? So much for overdoing it.
I asked Elie what kind of a cake she wants. She said banana. And of course, we don't have any ripe spotted bananas on hand. They're almost impossible to find at the store (the commissary's bananas are neon green), we usually buy them a week in advance. I offered other flavors, trying to make them all sound just as exciting, but no- she has her heart set on banana cake. Of course I'll do whatever I can tomorrow, to find ripe bananas for her, even if it means knocking on every door of every house in my neighborhood and begging total strangers to help me save my daughters special day.
Oh, and half of her birthday presents, were school related. A new backpack, new lunch supplies ...since she was supposed to start pre school next week. Supposed to. Well wouldn't you know, the other day we got a letter in the mail saying that the headstart program was all filled up, and she'd be put on the waiting list. And we're low, on the waiting list. Wayyy down at the bottom, where chances of her getting accepted are non existent. Crap. Now I have to swap out those gifts, and I don't have any others to replace them with. She'll never know the difference of course, having a few less gifts, but- I will.
And how do I tell her that she can't go to school? Thank goodness she has no concept of time, and I can take as long as I want to come up with the perfect "but I need you as my very special big sister helper here at home" story.
Tonight around 6:00, Christopher took the kids to Sam's Club to do some we-can't-go-another-day-without-these-things shopping, and Evelyn and I headed upstairs, and we (drool on the pillow) crashed.
I haven't taken a nap since I got discharged from the hospital. Can you believe that? Major abdominal surgery, nursing a newborn around the clock- and... I'm about to crack.
Sometimes I wonder if its maybe a little bit of postpartum depression trying to sneak its way into my day to day (I seriously cry at everything), or ...do I just need more sleep? Both? God I'm so tired.
After our nap, Evelyn was wide awake. Its rare that her eyes (will they be green, maybe?) are open, so when they are, I take full advantage of it. I nursed her, and then layed out a blanket and let her kick. We took her out of her preemie sleeper, and put her into a larger newborn size, so she could fully stretch out those long legs of hers. In that moment, things seemed alright. The bed was made, the other babies were in bed, the house was quiet. Its all going to be alright, I thought. And then...
My husband brought up an entire platter of comfort food for himself (homemade chicken nuggets, tater tots, freshly mixed dipping sauce), and handed me a bag of corn chips, for dinner. *Commence breakdown*
Finding my balance, folks. Finding... my... balance...