Sunday 29 October 2006

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Right this minute there are three words that describe where I am, infertile, mother and suffering from post natal depression.

Infertile
Even though I have Jordan, I’m still infertile I haven’t stopped producing cysts on my ovaries. I don’t know when my period will occur or if I am in fact ovulating. Most recently there has been a lot of talk with family and friends about Bobim #2. When will we try for another Bobim? Are we going to use OI again? How long are we going to try before we seek help again?

These questions just blow my mind and make me furious because there is a gorgeous little boy that needs acknowledgement and love and attention from everyone. By talking about Bobim #2 it can feel to me as though Jordan is not enough and they all want another one…to replace him perhaps. Tim and I have discussed Bobim #2 and logistics, plans of it all but, I’m in no rush. I want to savour my little boy and enjoy all the love, laughter and happiness he brings to our life.

Mother
Do I feel like a Mummy? I don’t know, what should a Mummy feel like…..I have no clue. I do feel like Jordan knows who I am, he recognises my voice and looks for me if I’m in the room and he hears me and he smiles when I greet him. I feel that Tim and I are the only ones that can comfort him when he needs it.

PND
Flick I did the test with the Health Care Nurse and she was concerned with the results, they were high and I was asked to go back and see her. I did and she is even more concerned now. I don’t feel depressed and I’m not unhappy.
I just doubt my ability to look after Jordan properly. I’ve allowed my mother, sister and mother in law the power to tell me that I’m a shit mother. It is in the middle of the night when I’m feeding Jordan that I’m at my worst. I’ve mentioned this before and I’ve mentioned the suicidal thoughts I have at those times. But I make sure that I keep talking to Tim about how I am feeling and it is an effort to keep writing about how I feel.

The HCN wanted me to hold off on the surgery tomorrow and anaesthesia can affect my hormones and make me feel even worse than I do. I need to clarify that I love my son and husband unconditionally and I would never, ever do anything to myself and to them.

It usually after a visit with my mother or mother in law or a phone call from my sister that I feel unworthy of the role as Jordan’s Mummy.

There is a huge emphasis on Jordan’s digestive system and every single conversation I have with these people the words “His stomach is sore” is uttered. It is driving me insane!!!!

After seeing the HCN on Friday I decided to take the power away from these people and be more assertive. I’m not a child anymore for them to walk all over me and I’m about to let others tell me how to raise my little boy. With this I’ve promptly declined any help for the next two weeks and I will not be removing myself off the visiting agenda for this time.

I feel that we as a family need to be by ourselves for a little while and I build my confidences more as Jordan’s mummy. I also need to learn to stand my ground with these people.

These people love us so much and truly honestly believe that they are helping with their suggestions. But right now, this moment every single suggestion that is made…it feels as though they are making these suggestions because they believe I’m a shit mother. Which is untrue I know, I know this but this is how their assvice is making me feel.

An example of this is when I asked my mother on Thursday if Jordan will remember me after I get out of hospital…(this is my greatest fear…I can’t sleep because of this fear)…my mother laughed at me and told me that it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever said to her. This hurt me deeply; it maybe was ridiculous to her but it is my greatest fear. I told her that it was not nice of her to laugh at me…I needed reassurance more than anything. Of course I took it the wrong way but that is where I am right now, vulnerable, insecure. I’m in uncharted waters here…I’ve never done this before, a little reassurance from these people wouldn’t hurt and it would perhaps boost my spirits.

Instead I’m told to give Jordan chamomile tea and even giving him Caraway seed tea, or give more water.It is all of you that, my husband and this blog that is keeping me afloat. I know that some women that are still in the infertile trenches that may feel disgusted that I’m feeling this way. But I never asked to be either infertile just like I never put my hand up to be dealt with PND.

Monday

Tomorrow I’m going into hospital to have my Gall bladder removed. I saw the specialist on Thursday and he took one look at my blood test results and the ultrasound and basically said I needed to have the thing removed ASAP.

Part of me if grateful that I have a Dr that is concerned enough to jump on board and demand I take care of things. The other part is scared shitless about the whole thing.

The surgery part is not what scares me, it is leaving Jordan. Leaving Jordan with Tim to look after him, I’m confident that Tim will be able to do a fantastic job, I’m just scared about Jordan missing me too much. Or that he may feel abandoned by me as I’m not going to be here for him.

Thursday 19 October 2006

In other news

I’ve been referred to a specialist in order to have my gall bladder removed. My appointment is for next Thursday and from my guess the surgery will happen in November sometime…very serious stuff and no mucking about…or waiting around.

Since giving birth to Jordan I think that I’ve passed a number of stones, but the last time that it occurred I was in so much pain that I could not function. The other times…the pain passed quickly and I was able to look after my son.

My greatest fear with this now is that the pain will grip me again when it is just the two of us at home. When it starts I’m incapacitated there is no way that I could even look after Jordan. I could delay the surgery and wait until he is a little older but then I run the risk of it hitting me when I least expect it.

Then there are my feelings about the whole surgery, I feel as though I’m abandoning my little boy, even if it will be for a few days…I’m riddled with guilt. I know that I would not be a good mother if I ignored this and didn’t have the surgery…

The evil demon visited again, during the early morning feed. But this time I made it a point to talk to Tim about what the bastard said:
“What if I die during surgery?....Oh that is ok, Tim will find someone else to be the mother of Jordan. Jordan won’t miss me…plus Tim’s mother is much “better” mother than I am and she will help him”.

Perhaps the evil demon is a sign of PND, I don’t know, but when I had that thought…I didn’t feel sad, I didn’t feel hurt, angry, upset, happy. I felt nothing, no remorse, no pain , no sorrow…nothing…nada…zip. If anything the lack of feeling scares me more than that thought.

After telling Tim I did feel better and something deep inside me made me go and check on Jordan…as I leaned over the cot to see if he was awake, his eyes open and in the small light produced by the little lamp next to his bed he recognised me…and smiled…and that brought me back…my demon bashing bat grew and I was able to fight the bastard off again…even if for a little while.

Wednesday 18 October 2006

Alternative Realities

Jordan had his 2 month immunisation injections today…I was so nervous, anxious and worried about the whole thing. 3 injections later in his thigh and much crying he is finally asleep.

On the way home from the Dr Surgery, having a screaming child in the car…my thoughts drifted to Star Trek – Voyager and the holographic doctor. More specifically the one instrument that was always present the hyper-spray. In that moment I wished for the utopia (or alternative) future where hyper-sprayers were readily used.

One little spssst sound and you would be all done, no jabbing, no bleeding and no screaming. Nothing can alleviate a mother’s worry and nervousness relating to immunisation…but…but what the hyper-spray would stop is the crack formed in a mother’s heart upon hearing their child scream in pain. Bring on the Star Trek future……even if we do not “boldly go where no man has gone before”, at least we could some of the gadgets.

****Update****

My poor little boy is suffering, he is in so much pain….every time he moves his legs there is a burst of pain….followed by a high pitch whimper, even in his sleep.

I’ve had to give him baby Panadol and I’ve held a cold face cloth against the needle wounds… I just hope that this will help him.

****2nd Update****

Well that seemed to have worked…he is now babbling away in his cot and smiling when I go to check up on him even kicking his legs around. What a relief it has taken me about 2 hours to write this post. In between I’ve had to help him poo (thanks Flick for the advice, massaging his botty seems to help), try to settle a screaming baby, try to feed him but resorted to giving him Panadol.

Tuesday 17 October 2006

Pain

I wake, I’m lying on my right side, I’m in pain.
I rollover onto my back but still I’m in pain.
I roll onto my left side, I’m in pain.
I look at the clock it is 5am…I’m in pain.

I stretch…some relief but it comes back and I’m in pain.
I get out of bed and walk around…no help I’m still in pain.
I drink Mylanta, still in pain.
I drink water, cordial, soda, milk…no still in pain.

It is getting worse and I’m still in pain.
I walk around in a circle rubbing my tummy, it helps for a little but I’m still in pain.
I sit on the couch, my right leg tucked under my left, I’m still in pain.
I my elbow rests on the couch and my body is scrunched over, I’m still in pain.

I throw up my dinner, still in pain.
I ride the porcelain bus 6 more times and still in pain.
I wash my mouth out, shower change and still in pain.

It has been 5 hours and still I’m in pain.
Tim rubs my back, whilst I’m scrunched over..it helps a little but I’m still in pain.
I try pain killers no help as I’m still in pain.

I eventually go to the Doctors just to be poked and prodded all the while in pain.
I have a blood test, ultrasound and still I’m in pain.

I passed a Gall Stone, and it seems that my Gall Bladder needs to be removed as it is full of stones.
The pain has moved, into my heart…my baby…my poor little baby…I need to have this surgery…will he remember me? Will he miss me? Will Tim be able to cope?

Saturday 7 October 2006

Friday 6 October 2006

A dark place

It seems that my demons seem to visit me when I’m most vulnerable…at night specifically the early morning feed. Those demons sure went to town on me last night.

I’ve dealt with them successfully since I was a teenager. I have the physical and emotional scares to show. Even during the 3 worst times in my life…during the most trying times of dealing with the miscarriages, I was able to keep the demon locked in his cage.

Oh the bars rattled and I heard a lot of screeching but I was able to fight back and keep him quiet. But to pounce on me now, when I think that all is wonderful in the world is just cruel but also very smart.

The self doubt, pain, uncertainty, anger, frustration and morbid thoughts scare me to my core. I swear that I haven’t felt this way since I was about 16, the temptation to fall back on my old habits and not care about the consequences kept me awake. Seeking reassurance from Tim was the only thing and I mean the only thing that kept me from doing something drastic to myself.

Even looking at Jordan sleeping this morning…more precisely at 4am didn’t help. The thoughts are too gruesome to write but they shocked and rocked me. This is Mari we are talking about…the Mari that tried desperately for so many years to conceive and birth a child…this is the Mari that was for a long time last night out on the edge…very close to the edge. Where I have not been for many years.


The demon in his cage seems so very big today and my bat that I use to bash him back into his place seems to be a very tiny twig. But that bars are holding, I don’t know for how long but they are holding. The lock is still in place but his words, feelings, thoughts are getting through. My protective shield is wavering, pray for me to have the strength to boost my shield and my bat and help me beat this bastard back into his place!

Thursday 5 October 2006

Unfit. To. Be. A. Mother

Yes that is me, I’m an unfit mother. According to my mother, father, mother in law, father in law, sister and yes my husband I’m an unfit mother. Or at least this is how they are all making me feel.

If my son cries just a little and brings his knees up to his chest…then his stomach is sore and I’m an unfit mother because I didn’t read the signs and did something about it, like shove chamomile tea down his throat. According to my mother in law and father in law. Jordan’s behaviour can’t be linked to the fact that he is pissed off and is kicking to get his point across…no HOW would I know that?

According to my mother, I’m unfit to be Jordan’s mum because he has developed a flat head on one side and it is my fault as I simply do not lay him on his side. Even though he hates being propped up on his side…as he gets too hot.

According to my father I’m shit parent because I sometimes hold Jordan whilst he is sleeping, hence spoiling him with my love and dare I say…comfort!

According to my sister I have no skills in trying to settle my screaming baby. She feels it is her right to try to snatch, grab and steal my child out of my arms…all because I’m an unfit mother.

According to my husband, I should leave Jordan screaming in his cot and allow him to cry himself to sleep, by going into his room and telling him that I’m there and that I love him and offer him a dummy, I’m ruining Jordan and making my own life difficult.

Also apparently I should take my son to see a GP or Paediatrician to get my baby checked out because of the following:
1) My baby cries
2) My babies stomach is sore
3) My baby may suffer a bit from wind
4) My baby throws up
5) My baby constantly sounds like he has a blocked nose
6) I’ve changed formula on my child with out professional help
7) My baby doesn’t like to sleep during the day

I feel like running, running away to be alone with my child. Packing Jordan up and just leaving. Now I know that I’m a good Mum, I’m just new to this job and both Jordan and I are feeling our way through things.

Yesterday became too much for me with all the things that have been said and done. I’m not constantly being told by these people these things but when you are on your own and you have a child that will only sleep on you and is crying for no reason then you can’t help but believe even if for one day that you are an unfit mother.

Sunday 1 October 2006

Confrontation

I had to do it, there was no avoiding it this time. It took a lot out of me to finally say “No more it is enough!”

My sister has been spending up big on JJ, even while pregnant we were receiving gifts constantly. Every time I saw her there was something new and while we appreciated each and every purchase it became a joke and I felt like there was an agenda behind the “presents”.

It turned out that there was an agenda. About 2 weeks before JJ was born my sister and Ellie came over for a visit and yet again she had another gift, I can’t remember what it was but we thanked her kindly and asked her to stop. The conversation turned to the Christening (of my yet unborn son), she was desperate to know the details…who would be coming, when we would hold the event, which church and where the lunch would be…and of course who would be the God Parents.

Tim and I had already decided that Ellie would be JJ’s God mother and his best friend would be the God Father. This did not go down well with my sister…she was itching to have the privilege…and I knew deep in my heart that this was the reason for all the gifts. This may sound harsh but wait there is more to the story.

The next day I received and phone call from my brother in law…saying “how dare I ask Ellie to be the God mother, as she is underage”. My family it seems believe that a request to be a Religious God mother automatically means that I’m asking people to be the Legal Guardian in case something happens.

My Brother in law then went onto say that my sister had noticed that all the gifts that we had received from them have been thrown away. It seems as though my sister was snooping around JJ’s room and because I had packed away a few things, she automatically assumed that I threw them away. Or…or..wait for this…she was stiring the pot as she was pissed that I hadn’t asked her to be JJ’s God mother.

In the hospital we received yet more gifts from my sister, this time Tim kindly but forcefully said “Thankyou …blah…we appreciate all the gifts, but please no more”. Tim and I worked out recently that she would’ve spent over $800 on JJ and we feel uncomfortable with the constant purchases.

So today she turned up with yet another plastic bag with her latest purchase for JJ. I refused to accept the gift, wouldn’t even look in the bag. She tried to force it into Tim’s hands but he too refused it. She then placed the bag into JJ’s room, where I removed it and gave it straight to Ellies hand, telling my sister that we had explained that whilst the thoughts and gifts were appreciated..we had asked her NOT to buy anything else. Her response was what is she going to do with the baby stuff. I replied that Ellie can take it back to the store for a refund and then she can purchase herself some thing.

I haven’t had to be a bitch like this towards my sister but it seems that since JJ has been born I’ve finally grown the balls to stick up for my convictions, and you know what….it felt good and I was really proud of myself.