I'm not kidding. I thought pregnancy brain was bad this time around but honestly, baby brain is worse. The bonus to having to go back to work eight weeks after having a baby was that I had to keep on track of things like, days of the week and a general sense of the date. But this time, since I'm off work until the fall, I literally have no idea it is anymore. I know today is Tuesday only because Olivia reminded me she has dance tonight, but beyond that it's all kind of a blur. I pretty much have no idea where in the month of May we are, and that's kind of an awful feeling.
The other thing I'm struggling with this week is depression. I think I'm beyond the "baby blues" and that I've moved right on to post-partum depression, though it's not nearly as bad as it was with Olivia. Which thank god, because my summer would be horrendous if that were the case. I didn't have anything with Jackson so I had hoped that maybe this time if I got anything, it would be just a few days of hormonal madness and then I would be fine.
And then I thought I was fine. I had a couple of really good days where I felt on top of everything and like I could manage it all and be just fine.
Until I decided to venture out into the world with Penelope and interact with people and try to connect with other adults. A few people mentioned how tired I looked, which isn't good considering Matt mostly does all of the night time feedings. He's exhausted but he's also not getting a lot of sleep. I'm exhausted because even though technically I can sleep, I'm not getting into a deep sleep so it's useless. I can't sleep during the day when Penelope sleeps because if by chance I do fall asleep, I have a fear I won't hear her cry because I don't really hear her at night. So that's out.
The other kicker? I have lots of people who offered to come and help, watch Penelope on their own, take Olivia and Jackson for a night, or all three, let Matt and I go out for dinner kid free, a whole variety of things. And none of it sounds good. I'm at the point where I don't really want to leave my house, and I don't really want to see people. I don't really want to do anything. I also don't want to leave Penelope with anyone, which is the strangest part of this whole thing. I remember when I had Olivia, I was so depressed I didn't want to be with my baby at all. Like not even a little bit. I would beg for someone to just come watch her, I would beg Matt to come home early from work, just to get away from her because I couldn't do it. With Penelope, I don't feel any of that. I just want to hold her all of the time (handy since she doesn't like to be put down to sleep) and be alone.
So I don't know. I called my OB office to see if I can get an anti-depressant and maybe I didn't sound convincing enough but they really want me to try to make it to my six week appointment, which is in three more weeks. I guess my next plan is to just call every single day until they get fed up. What I should really do is leave a message for the nurse at 4am, which is usually when I'm rocking Penelope because Matt has gone to work and I just cry in the rocking chair with her. I get it all out before the kids wake up for school so I don't make them worry. But the thought of being on anti-depressant again makes me feel a thousand times worse. Yes, I know it's beyond my control. Yes, I know they can be helpful and if you need them, you need them. But I also know I've tried several different ones over the years and every one of them make me feel nothing at all. Like I'm in a box of gray. No happy, no sad, nothing. I'm ambivalent towards things that should make me happy or proud. Things that should make me angry or upset don't even make sense to me. I feel foggy. I feel like I'm constantly in the state right before you get the flu really bad- achy and tired. So my options are feeling all of that or crying randomly. It's kind of a terrible choice, really.
The worst right now is having people tell me that it'll get better, that they had the blues too, that I look really great anyways, or worst of all- to enjoy this time with her. Like, fuck you and "enjoy this time". Seriously. Who wants to enjoy hours of rocking a baby while crying? If you enjoy that, there is something really wrong with you.
Bah- who knows. Maybe tomorrow I'll be better. It's not awful every day. It's very up and down. Some days I feel really great and I can't get enough baby time with her. Other days I feel like I can't get enough baby time with her but I'm crying and I don't know why.
But it'll be OK. It always works out. Somehow I always manager to pull myself out of these ruts.