The dark side

Ok, I've read a couple of very honest posts just now and feel like I, too, should come out of the closet about a couple of things. Don't worry, I'm not depressed (I don't think) and things are still going generally well around here. But I just wanted to mention some things that have been going on.

One thing that hit me the other day is that I've had this frenzy of activity lately - I absolutely must spend the day running around doing errands, and the more the better. I find myself bummed out when it's time to come home. Why? Because when I'm home I'm on the job. When we're out he's in the carrier and sleeps, or we're in the car and he just has to work past whatever mood he's in without my help. But at home, well, evenings are just darned near intolerable. He just fusses and fusses and fusses, and the only thing I can do is let him munch on my nipples all night, which is excruciatingly painful. And for the record, no, putting him in the carrier at home doesn't work because he just squirms and cries and wants to get out. Believe me, I've tried everything, but the only thing that works is constant nursing. And it sucks, no pun intended. So every day as five PM approaches I feel this sick feeling of dread.

Yesterday I was all proud of myself because after a little finagling I finally got the baby to nurse without the nipple shield. I was shocked and delighted. However later that night I tried it again and it was so painful - the first time wasn't so great, either - that I started using the shield again. It turns out the pain I get from nursing with it is in fact less than the pain I get without it. And I have to admit this news made me kind of bummed out. All this time I thought if I just weaned from the shield it wouldn't hurt anymore, and now I know this isn't true. So, now what? Well, at least with this knowledge maybe I can hit up my old LC for some help. But if she says I need to get him to change his latch at this stage I'm going to scream. Because honestly I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to breastfeed if I'm going to be in constant 24 hour pain like this. And no, pumping does not help, and trying to find time to pump when you're your baby's round the clock caregiver is almost impossible and a source of constant annoyance for me. So if one more person tells me I need to pump and breastfeed I'm going to punch them in the throat.

I think the pain is what's getting to me. Because I'm having these PPD-like thoughts that aren't rational - that if I were so sad about my aunt dying couldn't I have just made a memorial for her like a normal person, why did I have to have a baby? And feeling like everything about having kids is so caveman like and barbaric - that any sane, educated person would never do this to themselves. Physically, I mean. The whole pregnancy and labor part is so ancient and animalistic and nasty - we've sanitized and improved every aspect of our lives, but pregnancy and labor are still the same - just scary and dangerous and messy. I feel a trend among my fellow pregnant SMC bloggers that they're all sort of having the feeling that this isn't what they expected. I know I felt that way, especially with how sick I was for so long. But at the time I was so determined to not have another miscarriage and to "pull this off" that I rarely let myself think dark things like "I wish I'd never done this". But I think now that the dust has settled those odd thoughts are kind of creeping in.

It's not at all that I look at my beautiful baby son and wish he weren't here, nor do I really wish my old life back. I mean, I did all this for a reason, and a compelling enough reason that I put myself through all that fertility crap and spent all that money willingly, when I could have quit any time. But I'll be honest in that I dread the future. He's so little and cute and manageable now - portable and easy. I look at the mothers of toddlers and they all look harried and miserable. I am in terror of the day when he starts breaking things and making messes and has to be watched every second; when he starts saying no and being bratty and I have to actually parent him, as opposed to the relatively easy task of just feeding and changing and watching him smile and be adorable. What will I do when he's not so adorable? Is this what happens to women like my mother? When the kids start really being kids and having their own will she just turns off? Will this happen to me?

Last night I left the baby with an older couple while their son and his wife and I went to a comedy show. We were gone four hours and I'd left a bottle. When I got back the mother was walking around with the baby, and although he wasn't crying at the time, she looked freaked out and handed him off right away saying. "he's really hungry, that bottle wasn't enough," which instantly made me feel extremely guilty and like a bad mother. They all left within seconds and I frantically whipped out a boob, only to find him not that interested in eating. But I saw something in that woman's face that haunted me. It was the look of "this isn't as fun as I thought it would be." And I guess I have to admit that sometimes - though not all of the time - I think that, too.