Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Typing for the sake of writing

Dear diary. I don't believe in diaries.


Dear journal,


I'm sitting in this recliner instead of closing the computer and going to bed. The cats are grumbling in the bathroom. I should probably move them to the master bathroom before company comes tomorrow night. They will remain there until Tesla gets neutered, which I hope will be happening soon.


So remember that whole depression thing? I emailed the Dr. to complain about my medication dosage. It seemed to me like it was picking me up TOO much. For an hour or so each morning I'd be restless and jittery. So she wrote a prescription for a lower dose and I haven't picked it up yet because it turns out I was probably feeling that way due to being in the middle of moving and trying to pack for our family's first camping trip (sort of.) There was good reason for me to feel slightly panicky. I'll probably pick up the prescription and use that when I'm done with the current batch of pills.


Aaahhhhh, just reclined the recliner.


Last night I cried for 15 whole minutes because I'm not nursing Elaine any more. It was rather unexpected, by me and by Superman. I haven't been breastfeeding for over 2 months now. What triggered it was the last entry in my hand-written journal (yes, I still do that) in which I mentioned having to go nurse, all casual-like, because there wasn't anything special about nursing. Little did I know I'd only be doing it for less than a month longer.


Superman was valiant in his efforts to swoop in and save me from my emotions (it's so rare that I emote anything at all) but I told him I just needed to cry. I know I made the right decision in stopping breastfeeding, and now I just wanted to grieve the loss because I know very well what I'm missing. That was strange. I'm not a crier. Like, I never cry. And here I was having EMOTIONS. Girl-type emotions, even. The kind where you snivel into your hands and say between sobs, "I just need to have a good cry and I'll be better." People, I have NEVER, EVER said anything like that before. Odd. But progress, in my opinion.


I'm seriously putting off going to bed now. Let's see... what else can I talk about.


I love how the girls are interacting now, and it really is that - interacting! Elaine is always watching her sister, laughing more freely with her, crawling over to be smack dab in the middle of whatever she is doing. I don't know what it's like to have a sister so close in age - mine was a brother, and we got along really well. I hope I can direct them to have a good, rewarding relationship. It looks as if it's starting out that way and that makes me happy.


I'm beginning to feel as if having three children might not be so impossible. There were many, many, MANY days when I looked at Elaine and assumed she'd be the last baby I'd give birth to. If I had to go through what I went though (read: post partum depression) again (non-medicated) I would absolutely not have another child. I wouldn't be able to care for my children, plain and simple. They say it gets progressively worse with each baby, too. I had wanted four kids for so long but am now wondering if that's not in store for me. I still want to influence and touch the lives of children but I'm thinking there won't be as many of my own.


And I think I've used up nearly all the topics floating around in my head.


Sincerely,


beck

2 comments:

  1. I got back from camp and can finally catch up a bit. I love the new )?) look of your blog. your writing voice also sounds transformed, it's so free and beautiful. please never ever stop writing . I won't ever stop reading!!

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  2. Sorry to hear about the depression. I've had it too in a different way off and on over a few years. It's no fun. Basically the way I deal with it is by cramming my head with pleasant thoughts and trying to forget about bad things, which seems like common sense but when things are tough it's hard to know where to turn sometimes. Hope you're feeling better!!

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