I am at my wit's end. I'm going to be totally raw and honest here, because I need help, advice, and encouragement. I feel like it's going to sound petty. Like I should just deal with it. Please don't tell me to just deal with it. Please don't tell me that that's parenthood and I need to get used to it. If that is your opinion, I don't need to hear it right now. Even if it's true. I don't think I could handle that right now.
I am beyond exhausted. I know, I know. I'm a mother. Babies are tiring. And goodness, Emily, you're not even working, think about how hard all those mothers have it who don't get to stay home with their kids! See? I tell myself it. I know it.
But this goes beyond tired. I can't sleep. John sleeps better at night than I do. Sometimes it's just waking up multiple times and I can get back to sleep. Sometimes it's insomnia. Sometimes it's somewhere in the middle.
For the last four months, I've been putting off total exhaustion by napping during the day, whenever Johnny napped, usually for about an hour or hour and a half. It worked pretty well. For some reason, I've always been able to sleep better during the day than at night. And it has kept me going.
Johnny has stopped napping.
I don't know what to do.
If we're in the car mid-day, he'll sleep. If we're at home, he will go to sleep. I will thank God and lie down myself. And fifteen to twenty minutes later, he will start screaming. Just as I'm dozing off, usually.
He's fine, he just wants attention. He wants to watch me and interact with me. Which is great! I have a happy, loving baby. But I am so emotionally exhausted that I'm getting angry at him. How stupid is that? I shouldn't be angry at him for not napping - God knows he's not maliciously taking away my sleep time.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm asking, even, really. I guess...is this a normal phase? Is there a way I could get him to sleep longer? Is there a way I could sleep better at night? (I've tried so many things. This is not a new problem.)
I am sorry if I come across as complaining about a normal mom-thing. I don't mean to. I just...I need help.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily.
27 September 2012
23 July 2012
My Little Womulet
For the past two months, the only time I've had on the computer has been one-handed, while I'm nursing. Not very conductive to posting on a blog, or writing emails, or chatting. So here is my somewhat overdue update on my little one.
Womulet number one is the sweetest thing. He is truly a "perfect baby." I know, I know, everyone thinks their child is perfect. But I mean it in the sense that people outside our little family would say it. He took to breastfeeding like a champ from the beginning. He started sleeping through the night at six weeks. He doesn't fuss unless something is actually wrong (needing to burp, too warm), and stops crying as soon as it's taken care of. Also, he's awfully beautiful. Not all babies are. But he's crazy cute. To illustrate my point, here's a picture:
(His left eye had a little infection at first. So imagine that, but without the puffy eye. And bigger now, since this was at three weeks, and he's two months today. He's only gotten more beautiful since then. I just haven't had time to upload our newer batch of pictures.)
All this to say: I got lucky. I'm being spoiled. Our next child will likely be an absolute terror. But for now, I'm just enjoying my little angel, who woke up about thirty seconds after I started writing this, and has just been cooing and smiling at me the whole time, even though he's probably hungry.
Off to play with my little womulet.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily.
Womulet number one is the sweetest thing. He is truly a "perfect baby." I know, I know, everyone thinks their child is perfect. But I mean it in the sense that people outside our little family would say it. He took to breastfeeding like a champ from the beginning. He started sleeping through the night at six weeks. He doesn't fuss unless something is actually wrong (needing to burp, too warm), and stops crying as soon as it's taken care of. Also, he's awfully beautiful. Not all babies are. But he's crazy cute. To illustrate my point, here's a picture:
All this to say: I got lucky. I'm being spoiled. Our next child will likely be an absolute terror. But for now, I'm just enjoying my little angel, who woke up about thirty seconds after I started writing this, and has just been cooing and smiling at me the whole time, even though he's probably hungry.
Off to play with my little womulet.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily.
21 March 2012
Why I Plan on More Anyway: An Addendum
Add not being able to eat dairy (or maybe just anything with fat?) in the early morning or evening now (due to heartburn) to the list of complaints. And that is all the complaining I will do in this post.
I imagine that some people, upon reading my last post, would be surprised that I am already planning on having more children even though my entire pregnancy has been fairly miserable. I would not blame them. I am more than ready for this to be over, and feel like I must be crazy to already want to do it over again. Multiple times. Because we want a big family.
I know many women get over the whole "I am never putting myself through this again" thing a while after they give birth. I mean...look at what you get out of it! And misery is retrospect is not as bad as in the moment. One of my best friends was telling me about a coworker who had a truly awful pregnancy, making herself and everyone around her completely miserable for nine months. The other week, my friend overheard this coworker telling a customer how wonderful pregnancy is and how much she loved being pregnant. Did she forget? Was she just lying because she felt guilty about being miserable? Or maybe she just realized that it was worth it, and that the end is worth the pain of the process.
The last is what I am hoping for. Because I refuse to lie to people about how I have felt. And I doubt I will forget. But maybe a good analogy is that it is like running a marathon. Except for this marathon, you have not trained at all, and you just get thrown in and told to run. So you feel like crap the entire time. But when you reach that finish line...well, I hate running and I can not imagine any reward being worth running a marathon, but I hope you understand my point here. (It's a marathon where they give you a baby at the end!)
I hate being pregnant, but I love children. I want to be a mother more than anything. I am simultaneously excited and terrified out of my mind. And even though I have nine more weeks of this to get through (I told my dear husband last night that I would be so happy for womulet to be premature if I could be guaranteed no serious complications or health issues), I know I will willingly go through it again, probably soon. And again. And again. Et cetera.
Because I see little kids in the store, and giddiness bubbles up inside of me, and I think, "I get one of those!" And I see dads with their toddlers and can not WAIT to see my husband with our children, because I know he is going to be one of those amazing, adorable dads that the kids worship and vise-versa. And because my dad nearly threw out his back, leaping out of his chair and flinging his arms in the air, when we told my parents that we were expecting, and I know that he is going to be the most amazing grandpa ever. (He has been waiting for grandchildren ever since he and mom decided to not have more kids.)
So yes. I am miserable. And I have a lot that I can and do complain about. (God bless my patient, loving, wonderful husband.) But I already know it will be worth it. At least until they become teenagers.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
I imagine that some people, upon reading my last post, would be surprised that I am already planning on having more children even though my entire pregnancy has been fairly miserable. I would not blame them. I am more than ready for this to be over, and feel like I must be crazy to already want to do it over again. Multiple times. Because we want a big family.
I know many women get over the whole "I am never putting myself through this again" thing a while after they give birth. I mean...look at what you get out of it! And misery is retrospect is not as bad as in the moment. One of my best friends was telling me about a coworker who had a truly awful pregnancy, making herself and everyone around her completely miserable for nine months. The other week, my friend overheard this coworker telling a customer how wonderful pregnancy is and how much she loved being pregnant. Did she forget? Was she just lying because she felt guilty about being miserable? Or maybe she just realized that it was worth it, and that the end is worth the pain of the process.
The last is what I am hoping for. Because I refuse to lie to people about how I have felt. And I doubt I will forget. But maybe a good analogy is that it is like running a marathon. Except for this marathon, you have not trained at all, and you just get thrown in and told to run. So you feel like crap the entire time. But when you reach that finish line...well, I hate running and I can not imagine any reward being worth running a marathon, but I hope you understand my point here. (It's a marathon where they give you a baby at the end!)
I hate being pregnant, but I love children. I want to be a mother more than anything. I am simultaneously excited and terrified out of my mind. And even though I have nine more weeks of this to get through (I told my dear husband last night that I would be so happy for womulet to be premature if I could be guaranteed no serious complications or health issues), I know I will willingly go through it again, probably soon. And again. And again. Et cetera.
Because I see little kids in the store, and giddiness bubbles up inside of me, and I think, "I get one of those!" And I see dads with their toddlers and can not WAIT to see my husband with our children, because I know he is going to be one of those amazing, adorable dads that the kids worship and vise-versa. And because my dad nearly threw out his back, leaping out of his chair and flinging his arms in the air, when we told my parents that we were expecting, and I know that he is going to be the most amazing grandpa ever. (He has been waiting for grandchildren ever since he and mom decided to not have more kids.)
So yes. I am miserable. And I have a lot that I can and do complain about. (God bless my patient, loving, wonderful husband.) But I already know it will be worth it. At least until they become teenagers.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
14 March 2012
Why Pregnancy Sucks: A Complaint
They do not tell you, you know that? They say it is wonderful and magical. Which it is. But it also sucks.
Maybe I have only known people who have had lovely pregnancies, who got a little sick first trimester, who felt amazing second trimester, who slept just fine and can not wait to do it again. Maybe. Or maybe it is all just lies to propagate the species. Maybe everyone just forgets how much it sucks once baby comes. Because I do believe that it will be worth it. But it also sucks.
I am at thirty weeks, now. Almost to seven months. I still get morning sickness, though not as often as at first. But more suddenly and violently. I was not able to eat meat for the first five months. Any meat. At all. (I still can not handle pork or fish.) And eggs were suspect, and hot cereal and most vegetables were iffy. Potatoes were my friend. Of course, they always have been, but that was my primary sustenance. For five months. Five. Months.
I am exhausted and have been the entire time. I did not get any sort of energy-boost for my second trimester. In fact, that is when the fainting and dizzy-spells started. Yes, I am getting enough to eat. No, we do not know why my body hates me. It seems to happen when I am too warm, which is apparently when I am warm at all, so now we keep the house at about sixty most of the time and I have been wearing light clothes even though it is usually still really cold out. Because as much as I hate being cold (a lot. I hate it a lot), I hate fainting more.
Once I got the dizziness under control, the insomnia set in. I have not slept well since mid-January. Again, we do not know why my body hates me. I will be so sleepy, we will go to bed, my dear husband will be dead asleep in fifteen seconds, and my brain will decide to switch back on. "Doo-bee-doo. Here we are. We are lying in bed. Sure wish I could sleep. Hey! Let's think about everything! Everything in the WORLD! That sounds like a good plan." Stupid brain. Or my muscles will go into spasms. This is another thing: my muscles have gotten so tense. I have to stretch multiple times throughout the day to even have a possibility of relaxing at night. The sleep has been helped by magnesium supplements and exercise and drinking more water and having a little snack before bed. I do not know if all or one of those things helped, but I am sure as heck not trying to figure out which specifically is helping. But I am still only getting a few hours a night, partially due to the insomnia, and partially due to the whole "pregnancy makes you have to pee a lot, and also makes it so you are not comfortable in any position when you are lying down" thing. (I have, since I can remember, slept flat on my stomach. Now the only position I can fall asleep in is on my left side. And then only sometimes.)
It is a self-perpetuating cycle: I do not sleep well/can not get to sleep until really late, so after dear husband leaves for work, I go back to bed and sleep for several hours (I sleep a lot better during the day). But then at bedtime, I have not been awake for long, so I have trouble getting to sleep. Repeat cycle. But it is better than no sleep at all. Because I have tried not going back to sleep or napping, but then I am just entirely exhausted and still have insomnia. Usually those nights end up with my dear husband waking up to me sobbing into my pillow because I have been lying there for four hours, and have tried eating, and have tried taking a bath and stretching, and have tried freaking everything and nothing is working and why does my body hate me and waaaaaaah! So we have decided that sleeping during the day is probably a good plan.
I fell on Monday. On the stairs. I do not know how it happened. One second I was going down the stairs, and next, I was clinging to the rail with both hands, with my feet flailing beneath/below me trying to regain my footing. Thank goodness I was holding the railing, or I would have tumbled. Womulet is fine; I did not hit my torso area at all. As it was, though, both my arms got yanked and my left leg got twisted really badly. Why does this fall under "Pregnancy Sucks"? Because pregnant people do not get to take medicine. I can have Tylenol. Which helps a very very little bit. But I am not allowed to have any sort of anti-inflammatory medicines. Which is really what I needed/need. Because Tylenol kills the pain for a little while, but does not really help my muscles heal at all. So I am stuck with two VERY sore arms, and back twinges, and leg cramps (my leg has mostly healed now, but my arms are still killing me). Two days later. It sucks.
There are other little things. It is annoying to not be able to lift or maneuver things. Bending over is difficult. Getting in and out of bed (or the car. or up from the couch.) is ridiculously strenuous. My hormones have made my emotions even more haywire than usual. I do not know how much longer I will be able to drive, because my legs are short and I have to sit really close to reach the pedals, but my belly is already almost touching the wheel - I am not going to fit for much longer. I have heartburn and Tums do not help. It all sucks.
I am tired of this, and ready for it to be over now, please. I really really hope that I forget how miserable I have been for the past seven months (and likely the next two), because we want lots of kids. And this sucks.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
Maybe I have only known people who have had lovely pregnancies, who got a little sick first trimester, who felt amazing second trimester, who slept just fine and can not wait to do it again. Maybe. Or maybe it is all just lies to propagate the species. Maybe everyone just forgets how much it sucks once baby comes. Because I do believe that it will be worth it. But it also sucks.
I am at thirty weeks, now. Almost to seven months. I still get morning sickness, though not as often as at first. But more suddenly and violently. I was not able to eat meat for the first five months. Any meat. At all. (I still can not handle pork or fish.) And eggs were suspect, and hot cereal and most vegetables were iffy. Potatoes were my friend. Of course, they always have been, but that was my primary sustenance. For five months. Five. Months.
I am exhausted and have been the entire time. I did not get any sort of energy-boost for my second trimester. In fact, that is when the fainting and dizzy-spells started. Yes, I am getting enough to eat. No, we do not know why my body hates me. It seems to happen when I am too warm, which is apparently when I am warm at all, so now we keep the house at about sixty most of the time and I have been wearing light clothes even though it is usually still really cold out. Because as much as I hate being cold (a lot. I hate it a lot), I hate fainting more.
Once I got the dizziness under control, the insomnia set in. I have not slept well since mid-January. Again, we do not know why my body hates me. I will be so sleepy, we will go to bed, my dear husband will be dead asleep in fifteen seconds, and my brain will decide to switch back on. "Doo-bee-doo. Here we are. We are lying in bed. Sure wish I could sleep. Hey! Let's think about everything! Everything in the WORLD! That sounds like a good plan." Stupid brain. Or my muscles will go into spasms. This is another thing: my muscles have gotten so tense. I have to stretch multiple times throughout the day to even have a possibility of relaxing at night. The sleep has been helped by magnesium supplements and exercise and drinking more water and having a little snack before bed. I do not know if all or one of those things helped, but I am sure as heck not trying to figure out which specifically is helping. But I am still only getting a few hours a night, partially due to the insomnia, and partially due to the whole "pregnancy makes you have to pee a lot, and also makes it so you are not comfortable in any position when you are lying down" thing. (I have, since I can remember, slept flat on my stomach. Now the only position I can fall asleep in is on my left side. And then only sometimes.)
It is a self-perpetuating cycle: I do not sleep well/can not get to sleep until really late, so after dear husband leaves for work, I go back to bed and sleep for several hours (I sleep a lot better during the day). But then at bedtime, I have not been awake for long, so I have trouble getting to sleep. Repeat cycle. But it is better than no sleep at all. Because I have tried not going back to sleep or napping, but then I am just entirely exhausted and still have insomnia. Usually those nights end up with my dear husband waking up to me sobbing into my pillow because I have been lying there for four hours, and have tried eating, and have tried taking a bath and stretching, and have tried freaking everything and nothing is working and why does my body hate me and waaaaaaah! So we have decided that sleeping during the day is probably a good plan.
I fell on Monday. On the stairs. I do not know how it happened. One second I was going down the stairs, and next, I was clinging to the rail with both hands, with my feet flailing beneath/below me trying to regain my footing. Thank goodness I was holding the railing, or I would have tumbled. Womulet is fine; I did not hit my torso area at all. As it was, though, both my arms got yanked and my left leg got twisted really badly. Why does this fall under "Pregnancy Sucks"? Because pregnant people do not get to take medicine. I can have Tylenol. Which helps a very very little bit. But I am not allowed to have any sort of anti-inflammatory medicines. Which is really what I needed/need. Because Tylenol kills the pain for a little while, but does not really help my muscles heal at all. So I am stuck with two VERY sore arms, and back twinges, and leg cramps (my leg has mostly healed now, but my arms are still killing me). Two days later. It sucks.
There are other little things. It is annoying to not be able to lift or maneuver things. Bending over is difficult. Getting in and out of bed (or the car. or up from the couch.) is ridiculously strenuous. My hormones have made my emotions even more haywire than usual. I do not know how much longer I will be able to drive, because my legs are short and I have to sit really close to reach the pedals, but my belly is already almost touching the wheel - I am not going to fit for much longer. I have heartburn and Tums do not help. It all sucks.
I am tired of this, and ready for it to be over now, please. I really really hope that I forget how miserable I have been for the past seven months (and likely the next two), because we want lots of kids. And this sucks.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
16 February 2012
Silence and Peace
We are going to the monastery this weekend. It is a much-needed retreat. I am hoping for silence and peace. However, in the past, I have not found what I was hoping for, but what I actually needed. Only God knows what I truly need right now. I hope it is peace. But the last time I hoped for that, a group of a dozen or so people were visiting who treated the place like a hotel - one that they owned. When I went hoping for solitude, there was a family with seven children who were very very friendly. (Incidentally, I am now married to their second oldest.)
I think that it's good that we can't dictate what we find or experience at a place like that. The monastery is not a retreat center, or a resort. If we go, we open ourselves to God and his plan. The schedule and rhythm of the place does not conform to what we think it should be. We get up early, we go to services, we eat sparse meals, we work. Not what most Americans would call a vacation. I think that even at many "spiritual retreat" centers - whether specifically affiliated with a religion or not - the experience is more tailored to the individual. But visiting the monastery inevitably gives me so much more than a traditional vacation or stereotypical "spiritual retreat" does.
There are good things in both. And certainly you can grow in the latter, or close yourself to growth in the former. But I am looking forward to this weekend, and learning what it is that I need right now.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
I think that it's good that we can't dictate what we find or experience at a place like that. The monastery is not a retreat center, or a resort. If we go, we open ourselves to God and his plan. The schedule and rhythm of the place does not conform to what we think it should be. We get up early, we go to services, we eat sparse meals, we work. Not what most Americans would call a vacation. I think that even at many "spiritual retreat" centers - whether specifically affiliated with a religion or not - the experience is more tailored to the individual. But visiting the monastery inevitably gives me so much more than a traditional vacation or stereotypical "spiritual retreat" does.
There are good things in both. And certainly you can grow in the latter, or close yourself to growth in the former. But I am looking forward to this weekend, and learning what it is that I need right now.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
11 January 2012
Thoughts of the moment (while making dinner)
Shepherd's pie (actually cottage pie, with beef instead of lamb) is delicious. Adding celery and peas, because I have them.
Three of my favorite fruits are avocados, kiwis, and grapefruit. All three of these you can easily eat by slicing them in half and scooping the fruit out with a spoon. I am attempting to decide whether this fact is part of what makes them favorites, or if it is incidental to my love of them.
I actually don't have any fruits that I dislike. Except olives, which I don't count anyway. Condiments aren't a fruit.
I don't care as much for pineapple or cantaloupe as for other fruits. They are what I consider "not my favorite fruits" - I don't generally get them because I love all the other fruits so much.
Why don't more savory American dishes call for cinnamon? This is a horrible slight to a wonderful seasoning.
Yes, Pandora. I'm still listening. Like I have been all afternoon. Baby needs his Chopin, you know.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
Three of my favorite fruits are avocados, kiwis, and grapefruit. All three of these you can easily eat by slicing them in half and scooping the fruit out with a spoon. I am attempting to decide whether this fact is part of what makes them favorites, or if it is incidental to my love of them.
I actually don't have any fruits that I dislike. Except olives, which I don't count anyway. Condiments aren't a fruit.
I don't care as much for pineapple or cantaloupe as for other fruits. They are what I consider "not my favorite fruits" - I don't generally get them because I love all the other fruits so much.
Why don't more savory American dishes call for cinnamon? This is a horrible slight to a wonderful seasoning.
Yes, Pandora. I'm still listening. Like I have been all afternoon. Baby needs his Chopin, you know.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
02 January 2012
New Year
Yeah, so I'm really bad at this. Sorry.
In my second-to-last post, I gave a year's update which essentially said, "hey I didn't post for a year because my life was radically changing and I just got married."
Now, four months later, it's time for another one of those. See, soon after my last post, I got pregnant. Yay! Babies! Womulets! (that one's for the Reynolds clan.) Despite my excitement, I have been exhausted and unwell for the last several months. I am only now getting a chance to catch my breath. During my online silence, real life has been pretty crazy. Quick overview:
Now it is a new year, and time for goals. I hope to write on this blog at least once a month. I have done it before. I know I can do it. Perhaps I will update more often, but I won't feel bad if it is only once a month. I hope to have an efficient organization system in place before womulet number one comes along (I'm due in late May). I hope to have enough faith to give first, then budget from what remains after our tithe. And to live off that budget, and not ever dip into savings for daily needs, and to NEVER charge to a credit card. Also, I'm stopping picking my nails. For real this time.
I hope the new year finds you well, dear friends.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily.
In my second-to-last post, I gave a year's update which essentially said, "hey I didn't post for a year because my life was radically changing and I just got married."
Now, four months later, it's time for another one of those. See, soon after my last post, I got pregnant. Yay! Babies! Womulets! (that one's for the Reynolds clan.) Despite my excitement, I have been exhausted and unwell for the last several months. I am only now getting a chance to catch my breath. During my online silence, real life has been pretty crazy. Quick overview:
- I got more and more depressed at my job, working for B&N as the digital sales lead. In September, my husband got a great full-time job at a stable company, so I resigned from that position, taking a huge cut in both salary and hours. This was a big leap of faith, but as my husband told me - the money was not worth the pain it was giving me.
- I found out I was pregnant.
- Dropping to a part-time bookseller helped my stress and anxiety attacks, but I was still pretty miserable. It used to be that I loved working there. I mean...a bookstore! What more could I ask for? But the nook has destroyed the soul of the company, and is now destroying the souls of those who work there, who have loved the bookstore in the past and hurt to see the changes in policy and priorities.
- At the beginning of November, my husband's workplace hired me on seasonally - full time at good pay. I quit my job at Barnes and Noble. Just over two years ago when I started there, I would not have expected to ever quit to leave for another job. I figured I would work there until I became a stay-at-home mother. It breaks my heart, how soulless the store has become. I hope that not all of them nationwide are becoming like that, that it had more to do with our specific management, but I fear for the worst.
- Working at my new job allowed me to get out of retail before the holiday season. This was wonderful! I was able to spend Thanksgiving weekend with family, and we had a week off for Christmas, during which time we visited my husband's family, and spent the day before Christmas at my parents' house. I'd forgotten how nice it is to actually have a break at the holidays. Or maybe I'd never known - after all, during school it was more a time to crash or catch-up on school work, and I'd been in retail ever since then.
- Now that the seasonal job has ended, I am staying at home. I am a housewife and soon-to-be stay-at-home mother. This has been the best thing for my mental health that I could have asked for. I am finally able to start getting our home into order, to cook good meals, to keep things clean and organized. To rest. To read again. To spend time with my husband in the evenings. To gestate :D
Now it is a new year, and time for goals. I hope to write on this blog at least once a month. I have done it before. I know I can do it. Perhaps I will update more often, but I won't feel bad if it is only once a month. I hope to have an efficient organization system in place before womulet number one comes along (I'm due in late May). I hope to have enough faith to give first, then budget from what remains after our tithe. And to live off that budget, and not ever dip into savings for daily needs, and to NEVER charge to a credit card. Also, I'm stopping picking my nails. For real this time.
I hope the new year finds you well, dear friends.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily.
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