I wasnt enough

I have felt a myriad of emotions since Tuesday night. That sinking abysmal feeling as results kept pouring in. Disappointment, anger, resentment as the next morning rolled around. I felt buoyant hope as students poured out of classrooms to protest and learning that the bulk of the 18-25 vote throughout the country went to Clinton. I felt fear as rising incidents of racism happened around the country. I felt shame every time I looked at my child.I felt paranoia when talking to my husband about how we should prepare for the racist days ahead.

Most of all though, the feeling I have experienced the most, the one that weighs me down is helplessness and knowing I was not enough. I voted. I did my civic duty and that was not enough. I pled on social media that everyone should vote. I harassed my family to go vote and that was not enough. All those nasty women that proudly voted, All those stickers on suffragettes, all of us, we were not enough.

Where do we go from here? We take deep breaths, we fight for our liberties and equality. We stand up for those around us that are being bullied. We do more, We be More, because what I did, who I was, it was not enough.

My husband honestly believes that in a few weeks the violence, the outrage, the protests will die down and America will return to life as usual. He believes that with it everything I am feeling will dull down. I keep explaining to him that maybe in the past that might have been true. However, Everytime my child looks at me, I hold myself to more. This isnt about my fear, my rights, this is about hers. This is about the future I want her to have. No it wont die down. No it wont change, I wont let it and if you believe for a single second that America is for all Americans, for every community to live in equality and peace, you shouldnt either.

Our Voting wasnt enough, the bigots outmaneuvered us due to the Electoral College.

Taking the High road wasnt enough, they cut our legs out from under us when they went Low by spreading lies, bigotry and stoking people’s fear. We expected people to do the right thing, but America went into the polling booths and did no such thing.

We need to do more, we need to do better and we need to hold ourselves to more. They will fight dirty, we have to be willing to give people the means to sift through the mud that is being flung in all directions. I need to do more, I am not sure how, I am not sure where to start but I need to do more.

The next few years arent just going to be about explaining to my child why our President’s policies are against her as a woman or as a minority. It might even be about keeping her from bodily harm. I might have to protect her from those that want to hurt her for the color of her skin, for her gender and to hold her back. She will have to fight twice as hard as a girl and one of color. Therefore I have to fight harder for her to give her the equal playing field that our government no longer will.

It was not enough to vote, I have to do more. I was not enough this time and I failed my child, I failed me and I failed so many other children, women. I am not sure what, but I have to do more.

Note: to trolls comments are moderated so dont even bother trying.


Sleep Battles

A was born a strong-willed baby. She refused to be swaddled and didn’t want to lie down flat (we knew it was reflux and her colitis). She has always fought naps, always fought sleep.

Somewhere around when she was 4 months old, I was so determined to get her to sleep that I put her on a tight routine watching every minute like a hawk. It worked a little bit but not much.

She continued to be a light sleeper, up at the slightest sound and even when she did nap soundly it was never for more than 30 minutes.

It wasnt till after her 1 Year Birthday that I discovered the relief you might feel when a baby naps for say 2 hours at a time (She was also doing only one solid nap at a time). It was joyous but short-lived. Around 14 months she went back to sleeping for less than an hour, twice a day and 8 hours at night.

She has never slept what the websites say babies her age should be sleeping. 14-15 hours a day HAH! Believe me, I have tried everything. She still nurses several times a night too but that is a different story.

I knew I was overwhelmed last week, with DH’s work schedule accelerating, with me working from home and taking care of a toddler that didn’t sleep much etc. I knew I was not really doing a bang up job but I was managing and that was good enough for me. I was okay knowing that for the next few weeks, she would watch some tv while I cooked and got a handle on things. I knew that for the next few weeks, I would work less than usual and let a few things slide and I was okay with that. I knew for the next few weeks it would be about survival and I was okay with that. What I was not okay with was not knowing what was causing her to thrash and cry in her sleep like that.

I just thought I wanted to get ahead of the one thing that was stressing me to breaking point, the reasons for her restless night. I didn’t know if it was something she ate, something I ate, her molar that is threatening to emerge for a few weeks but not doing so, whether it was night terrors, a growth spurt or what. I thought it would be perfect timing to talk to my Dr about it at her 15 month appointment.

Maybe it was that A kept screaming from the moment we entered the exam room, she turned red and then purple, screeching and crying and kicking and punching. Maybe it was trying to have a conversation with the Dr while holding on to a thrashing and wailing baby. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation that caught up to me. His words felt like an accusation, here we were not communicating. He kept saying I needed to force her to stay awake and work harder at giving her a routine. I kept trying to ask reason after reason that she might be thrashing in her sleep at night.

I came out of the appointment (after holding my baby through vaccines and a blood draw with more thrashing and screaming) depleted, worn out and defeated. I tried calling my DH but he had some mtg or the other, he wasn’t available.  I vented on twitter but mostly I just sat at home that day and cried.

SideNote: I never really express how much the support all you tweetbuddies give me. I really do appreciate it. I think on some days it is the only thing tethering me to my sanity.

Well Saturday Morning I decided to go back to trying harder to give her a routine. I forced her awake at 8 am, and stuck to one nap. She slept 8 hours Friday night and 2 hour nap during day on Saturday. She went to sleep by 9 pm Sat night and stayed asleep (mostly).

She still cried a few times (nightmares?). Around 3:30 am had her long feed as she tends to do every night. Around 4:30 there was a lot of thrashing, she wouldn’t get comfortable and I finally realized her diaper had leaked, wet clothes, wet crib sheet. We changed diaper and clothes and I kept her in my mattress, because I wanted her to go back to sleep as soon as possible.

Sunday Morning: I accidentally overslept and let her sleep till 9 AM. ** Internal Screaming because the plan was to wake her up at 8 everyday**

Well its almost 4 pm and she has refused every attempt to nap today.  She will be going straight to bed now around 8 pm. (I am not holding my breath at winning this battle though).

We are just not that lucky

Disclaimer: sorry if it triggers and no we aren’t actually trying.

I have been feeling off the last few days, car sick, nauseous just off. My period was due soon and as usual my inner self took a flight of fancy.

There was that one time when you know there was unprotected sex. It was possible. Why not.

Dh finally caught on to my flight of fancy when I postponed booking vacation and said “we just aren’t that lucky”

Well why not I wanted to scream. People are fertile sometimes after a baby. It could happen, it could happen to me.

Well it didn’t, AF is here today and this roller coaster I stupidly put myself through is exactly the reason why I m postponing the conversation on TTC again.

To recap, we are out of infertility coverage under most insurance plans in most states cuz apparently United will still count it as used even if BCBS paid for it. And we just aren’t that lucky that we might get pg and keep it without medical help.

Maybe it’s time to rethink things.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I am incredibly grateful that I have my one baby. I just….I guess am not sure about the point of this post except a big whine.

The Box is Half Full

There are two parts to this post.

The obvious one, the literal one. The box is half full. Whether it is A’s toy chest or book shelf, it is finally half full. Because for every 5 things she removes, she now puts one or two back. She has been obsessed with removing things for a few months now, whether it is her toys from the box, her books from her bookshelves, or laundry from the laundry basket, pots and pans from cabinets, spoons from dishwasher, you get the endless idea here. Yes, I have been waiting fervently for the time where she just as obsessively starts putting things back (in the hopes that some of it is where it belongs and less clean up for me). So Yay!! We are kinda there.

The other one may also be kind of obvious, the box is half full as in the glass is half full. It is not half empty. I am trying very hard to look at positive things in life, to focus on the happy thoughts. For A’s sake, and a little bit for my own sake. It is very hard for me to admit, very difficult and I dont know how or where to begin but I know I have reached a point where I have to. I have to admit it to myself and maybe to more than myself that I need help.

For years now I have flirted with anxiety and touched depression. Infertility does to you right? Being in the Infertility Closet and not admitting the extent of the issues to anyone IRL does a number to you too. I didnt really find the Inferility Community on Twitter till the last year or so of my journey, before that I felt very alone and very wrong. It makes sense that my wake up call comes when I find myself withdrawing from that same community. It is not intentional but I find myself withdrawing anyway. I check my feed less and less and I convince myself it is because I am busy.

After the move, I dont really have friends or family around. I love my husband and I know he loves me but I know he doesnt really see or maybe I just hide it well. I tried telling him I need help but I dont think I said it well enough. He is a problem solver, and I am not ready to be a “problem” that needs solving.

I cant help think of the questionnaire that my OB-Gyn asked 6 weeks after C-section. Was I depressed? I laughed in my head and maybe out loud. I was too sleep deprived to be depressed. A’s new pediatrician had a similar questionnaire and I asked myself again, but I told myself it was the move. Am I depressed? I feel like if I am not sure than I must not be.I keep telling myself, it is hormones, it is the lack of sleep, it is the move, it is where I am in my monthly cycle because Progesterone makes me crazy. I tell myself that I have always hated dressing up and make up, I have always hated shopping. However, outside of my child I dont think I have an identity anymore, I dont think I have a thought about anything outside of her anymore, which is fine. I am not ungrateful, I know how hard I worked to have her and I am happy that my world revolves around her. To be honest, I even want to be better for her.

I come from a culture that believes in being stoic, a stiff upper lip, chin up… you get the idea (Different post different day). I was raised to soldier on, my husband often tells me we soldier on, I believe I should soldier on but I cant help thinking on some days I am too tired to soldier on, to fight alone because I am not sure I am worth fighting for.

No matter how many ways I explain it, I know that in the end it doesnt change that I need help.

I am always surprised if people actually read my blog, so I write here for me. This is my secret place where I think no one is listening, no one is reading, no one is really judging. So I am going to say it here first,  to myself mostly. I need help.

I am going to start by trying to focus on the positives in life. I am going to pretend that maybe it is my Vitamin D level that is wonky and take my vitamins more diligently. I am going to hope that I can fake it till I make it, because I dont want A to remember anything but smiles from her childhood. I am going to make more of an effort to reconnect on Twitter and hope to start from there.

Maybe eventually I wont wince in pain when my phone rings and find excuses not to answer, maybe eventually I will have more than a “hey!!” with IRL friends that are too far away to see the facade in those emojis. Maybe eventually I will look in the mirror and smile at my reflection. Eventually the joy I feel around A will feel real and not just masking fear.

The box is half full and I am just going to cling to that thought and go watch netflix now.

Haunts of allergies past

I know A has supposedly outgrown her dairy allergy. However there has always been one allergy I haven’t figured out. It gives her an instant rash.
Something she ate two days ago gave her a terrible rash and diarrhea. Dh says I worry, I try to look for things where there aren’t any and I am transposing my hypochondriac ways on to her. But I can’t help seeing a co relation.
She had a rash, she had a bit of diarrhea, and she refused to sleep. Horrible barely napping and staying up till 1am and nursing frequently for last 2 days.

I didn’t tell him but I instantly cut 2 things out of her diet, the lentils I know she ate before but not frequently and tomatoes. 

I will be honest they are my new prime suspects. This was the first time she ate tomatoes directly but there was also those lentils. I will never know what caused it, (well till I do some trial and error) I still have the standing order of getting her stools tested if I need to.

She has been napping soundly for 2 hours and counting today. I take it as a good sign that she is willing to lie down without a fight (maybe reflux again)?

I wish I was more confident in knowing what was wrong or even believing my own gut that something is wrong. I think like infertility, these allergies will haunt us for a while at least till she can talk and hopefully tell me when something is bothering her.

I wish she cried so I knew. Instead even when she was a baby, she would just fight sleep. I remember this time last year there were entire nights when she absolutely refused to sleep. I am guessing I was consuming large amounts of dairy and her colitis was really flaring up. The sleepless nights just left me unable to think and it took me months to realize there was a real problem.

My inability to figure out her problems faster left me crippled with guilt and doubt. Mom’s intuition is a thing and I failed my baby that was relying on me to understand her and help her.

I really hope I connect the dots faster this time to wherever they lead.

14 months old

I am doing terrible at keeping up with blogs and barely able to keep up with Twitter.

I had this crazy idea today to just write, write about something fantastic that happened today, something that made this day stand out. I know it’s ridiculous, I know I don’t have time to gather my thoughts, I also know keeping up with writing daily is virtually impossible but I want to try.

I want to dig out of the fog that has become my life. I want to remember the little things as A grows up so quickly. I want more from my days, my life and more from me every day. So I will try

She turned 14 months yesterday, wow did time fly. Today I also took coq10 again for the first time in a long time. We aren’t TTC again yet but are thinking about it, talking about it, dancing around the topic mostly.

Now that I think about my blur of a day and try to find something positive, I see so many happy moments in a day that for a while I thought was going to crush me. I texted dh and asked if I could have a vacation day from life, it was that kind of a day.
Yet just when I felt I was going to drown, she calmed down, willingly sat in her high chair and played with cherry tomatoes(even gasp eating a couple) while I 

  1. Finished cooking
  2. Fixed the coil on my stove that I accidentally took apart …oops
  3. Stopped feeling like i was drowning

She also later finished the day with eating perhaps the biggest meal she has ever eaten making me teary eyed. Yes I did almost cry.

Also is official, my child’s security blanket is a stick, any stick. Like a warrior waving her sword, she waves the stick (wind Mill thingies, spoons, paper straws, pens, markers we don’t really discriminate). Today, she was exhausted and I tried for over an hour to get her to goto sleep but she refused to lie down. The minute I desperately handed her a marker, well 5 minutes later she was asleep.

I see the light at the end of the tunnel and it oddly resembles a stick.

Damn you AF

For those of you unaware AF is a common acronym for your monthly period.

I am pissed as hell and feeling a little gypped. This post is full of TMI ( too much information) so feel free to stop reading at this point.

I got my first post partum AF last weekend. P called it accurately and said I only fight irrationally like that when I
am about to get AF. At the time it was a grave insult and I came back at him with everything I had but a few short hours later my very first AF was here.

I was excited, it had been a long time since I had one obviously. A is almost 8 months old. I had heard the first one is terrible, so I was ready. I had tons of allergy friendly chocolate handy, and Tylenol just in case. I was set.

I was also nervous with the dr imposed 9 months restriction ending soon, we could TTC #2 this summer now. (We wanted to try naturally for a few months since we have exhausted our current infertility benefits and RE doesn’t accept Aetna, also tick tock, it took us 5 years to get A).

By Monday though, everything I had felt was replaced with anger pure and simple. This AF never progressed beyond mild spotting for 2 days. I didn’t get full flow, I didn’t have any cramps, nothing. I know most would say be thankful but my body failed me yet again.

Pure and simple my body failed. This jeopardizes everything. At the back of my mind is the voice that reminds me my mom menopaused at 42.

P and I would love to have a second baby (not being greedy but u know)
however lately we find ourselves telling each other that A is enough for us more and more in recognition of the fear that it may not happen.

Failing body, barely there AF, age, bad eggs, and no infertility benefits left. I am not greedy but I really would have liked a second baby and now I am not sure that will happen for us.