I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed today. The lead up to the anniversary of Owen's death and his birthday is always really bad.
And I'm just feeling so.... bah... I'm just overwhelmed and crazy feeling.
This new aspect of my life, being the mom of a living baby, and grieving my babies in Heaven is taking its toll. I feel guilty even writing that. I feel guilty that I can't keep it all together. I feel guilty that I don't always know what I'm doing, but I feel like I should.
Mommy guilt is a terrible, terrible thing. I hate the days when I feel like I'm messing everything up. Like I can't do anything right.
I'm not great with schedules or strict with naptimes/bedtime. I must be a horrible mom. I just started solids and I hate it. Well, hate is a strong word. But I don't like it. It's so confusing and complicated. All the information I'm getting is making me feel like if I don't do homemade, organic baby food then I must be a terrible mom. It's hard starting something new and my personality feels like I must find the best/perfect way to do it and then do it perfectly.
Until recently, I didn't really worry about Hannah's bedtime. She went to bed when she started acting sleepy/fussy. I just went with the flow and followed her cues. But now, all of a sudden, I'm comparing Hannah to all the babies around here (there are ALOT) and I feel guilty that I can't get her to sleep before 9:30-10pm. Our upstairs neighbor puts all 3 kids to bed at 7:30 (the youngest was born around Hannah's due date). Seriously, she puts them to bed and they all just go to sleep.
So, last night, after a bath and some cuddling, I put her down to bed at 8pm. And she cried... and cried and cried... for 2 hours. I let her cry for seriously 30 seconds before picking her back up again, but I think the whole thing was just so different for her (I always put her down after she's asleep) and it made her angry. I rocked and walked and cuddled and tried to nurse her but everything just made her angry. Finally after crying with her, I put her in her exersaucer and let her play for a few minutes. She calmed down (probably b/c she got what she wanted), and then 10 minutes later fussed for milk and then promptly fell asleep. At 10pm.
I don't know what I'm doing and I'm afraid that I'm parenting her out of guilt and fear and worry. I'm fearful she'll die, so I try to enjoy and cherish each moment I have with her. But seriously, who can do that ALL the time, so I end up feeling guilty because I get short tempered with her. I worry about her safety and development and well being and health and happiness so much, ALL the time, that I forget to enjoy her. I'm afraid I'm making decisions from the wrong place.
I feel guilty that she has to have this basket case of a mom, so I compensate by letting her do what she wants (i.e. not a strict bedtime or naptimes, not letting her cry or fuss hardly at all- unless I can help it, letting her nap on me).
Maybe that's a big part of it- I feel bad that she has to grow up with a basket case for a mom. I really hate that I can't be a normal mom for her. There is so much fear and anxiety that have come from burying my firstborn. I look at everything differently. I see the worst case scenario in every situation.
Wow. This is such a horrible post.
But it's the truth. This is where I am right now. This is where I am, 3 years after my little boy died.
Every night, when I put Hannah down in her bed, I pray for her safety and health, that she'll live a long, healthy, happy, God glorifying life. That she'll come to know Jesus.
And that Jesus would help me trust Him with her life.