Both of us still have wonky tummies - B absolutely refuses any kind of dinner and starts screaming if I even take out the pot with his favorite meal in it. Then he wakes up in the morning too early and positively hysterical from hunger. It SUCKS. Every night since Wednesday I have tried to introduce his usual dinner to no avail, and have found much to my chagrin that he'll only eat cottage cheese and strawberries. At least it's something. But I can't wait for him to be back eating a proper meal! This morning was an hysterical kicking/scream fest as I blearily tried to strip off his soaked and poop-filled diaper, get him dressed, get him in the kitchen, and then have to try to repair his broken high chair before putting him in it (the center strap for between his legs broke). The whole time with him screaming that intense bone-shattering scream right in my ear until I snapped and yelled at him to SHUT the HELL up and that he was driving me CRAZY. So yeah, good times. Just how you want to start your day, huh?
Honestly I'm just so glad I'm no longer scrubbing puke out of carpets while feeling like puking myself that I think I'll take whatever kind of day I can get. Let's face it - we've been through an ordeal. I think it's ok if I'm not completely cheerful and full of joie de vivre at the moment. Here are some things coming up that I'm looking forward to:
Thanksgiving, and the visit of my sister and brother-in-law. I'm excited to cook us dinner and set a nice table which is something I never get to do because I'm always someone else's guest. They'll be here all weekend so we'll have lots to do. I just hope B can handle all the excitement and that it doesn't screw up his sleep/eating, make him behave badly, etc.
I've talked to two doulas on the phone and am meeting three this week. Hopefully I will have one chosen by next week so that will be nailed down. I'm pretty bummed that doulas by trade are not allowed to drive you anywhere or technically help with your other kids - so I still have those elements to figure out, which sucks.
A friend is loaning me her maternity clothes, which is great since I currently have one pair of pants and three shirts that actually fit - and the pants are way too long so I have to roll up the cuffs which means sand and bark from playgrounds always get caught in there and then get strewn all over the house. It's extremely irritating. And I hate not having anything to wear, ever. But can't really shell out for a whole new wardrobe I'll only wear for three more months, either.
One of the doulas I talked to on the phone made a comment that has been resonating with me. When I recounted my lengthy, shitty birth experience, she said "there's a difference between pain and suffering." We all know and accept labor pain - it's pain with purpose; it gets you somewhere. But the suffering, the suffering! That's the part I remember most vividly - how it dragged on for three days, how hungry I was, how thirsty, how fed up being strapped into a bed and sleep-deprived. That's what I remember. She said she would have snuck me food! So far she's the front runner.