Sometimes life gives you lemons...PART 1
But you can't make lemonade because they're already rotten.
And seriously, who wants to drink rotten lemonade?
Someone told me, "You'll write your first book about this season of life". Hehe. I can't even remember half of this season. :)
I've been thinking about blogging for awhile now, about sleep and what I feel like the Lord is showing me during this...extended....period of time in our life. He IS moving and speaking, and I've been tossing around whether or not to share.
I think I will. Sometime.
But I think, if I'm going to write my hope-filled "Jesus is showing up so it's all good" post.....it's only fair if I also blog on one of my bad days. Of which there have been many. One of the days that also exposes the deep struggle I've had during this season.
Seems fair.
So I haven't written anything. The spiritual blog posts are so much easier to write. They make you sound struggling AND strong. Frustrated AND spiritual.
Win win.
My dad recently pointed out to me that maybe part of the call on our family is to be living object lessons. I want to be willing to do that. I want to be real and not just spiritual. What are the points of what He's working in me if I'm afraid to tell people where I started?
So consider this object lesson part 1. The bad day. (Written WHILE I was having one :)
(Please don't write me and inquire after my salvation or the safety of my kids...or husband :) This is my attempt to be as honest as I can about how low this situation can be....I'm not losing it, just exposing it)
I want a do-over. This isn't the experience we were supposed to have.
The baby is 7 months old now. I am sitting in the living room drinking (what Aaron calls) the chemical latte while Brynne paints at the dining room table. I'm seriously trying not to start crying. This morning she threw a fit about wearing rain boots instead of snowboots to dance class (we got a couple of inches in April, and I already put away the snow boots-!-), and I snapped at her in the car.
That's one of the number one things I hate about this. Brynne gets the shaft. Her mama doesn't have the energy to engage the way I used to, and often, I'm alot snippier than I want to be. I hate this, and yet, I'm going to sit here and keep blogging because I'm so frustrated I can't think straight. The baby of course, is sleeping. Now that it's daytime. Now that I have to be awake.
I've seriously lost hope that he's EVER going to get it right. I know how hard he's been trying...for a long time. I've heard every possible suggestion...at least three times. We've tried them all. We have a wonderful sleep expert who has given up her time and her email address to me in an attempt to help us. She's mostly support for me now. No solution to be had.
Seriously, 7 months.
All my friends whose children are MONTHS younger are starting to get sleep. All my presuppositions about my "parenting to sleep" ability are gone. Turns out, it really ISN'T how great your parenting is, or sometimes even how consistent you are. We've had our routine down to the very same lullaby for months. MONTHS. The very same lovey, the very same fan setting, the very same shoosh and pat... It hasn't helped. In fact, he's regressed in the last 2 months, big time. Two nights ago he was up 10 times. TEN TIMES. I feel like Jessie from Toy Story, who finds out she has to go back into storage. "I don't want to go back there. I CAN'T!" (pardon the preschool movie lines...I remember movie lines. I'm also watching almost all preschool movies these days :)
Some days, I feel calm in the midst. Today, I feel angry. I'm so frustrated I could scream at the cutest baby in the world. I don't. I just think it. Sometimes I get snappy with everyone else.
I want a do-over. This isn't how this experience is supposed to go.
I want to savor every moment, but I can't. I found enough energy to clean up the house three times yesterday. Today, the rooms look trashed with baby toys and crumbs again, and I can't bring myself to care.
I look back at the past 7 months, and I feel like I don't remember enough of it. I feel like I was robbed of the opportunity to enjoy our first months as a family of four. It isn't something I've done wrong, it's something that's been done TO me. The baby is learning so many new things, and I just keep thinking how fast it's going. And yet, all I seem to have the energy for is mindlessly using this computer or letting Brynne watch more than one movie in a day. God forbid I have to plan dinner. It's not like I have the hands (or the time alone) to put it together anyway.
I feel like a bad mom. I'm just too tired to care, and too frustrated to be happy. I don't know how to fix this, and when I get this tired, I'm not sure how to NOT feel frustrated. No one around me does, either. Not the pediatrician, not the sleep expert. They assure me that there's nothing physically wrong with him, and that what we are doing at home is "all the right things".
Even when he has a good night, I just use the energy to brace myself and prop our life back up for the next night, which is sure to be tough. He's had full weeks (or two or three) of major improvement...sometimes only getting up 2-3 times each night....but then we crash back down. Even three weeks of improvement isn't enough to fill me with hope anymore. I find myself looking to the day when he's old enough to just say, "if you can't sleep, you can read until you're tired. But mommy and daddy are going to sleep." What's that, 3, 4 years away?
On days like today I feel like I can't express with my words how desperate I feel inside. People don't really understand. Most of the time I hear, "Have you tried..." or "I remember that when mine were little..."
But you know what? Chances are...they don't. Did their babies get up 5-10 times a night at 7 months old? Not starting at 7 months...all the way THROUGH to 7 months (actually more like 10-12 times a night for a LONG time). If not, then they don't. And by the way, I know the ones that do, because of how they look at me. One of them came into my living room a couple of weeks ago and just cried while she was talking to me. This isn't something you just, "laugh about later". Her son is 15. Still not laughing.
(total sidebar: I really am SO thankful for the people who care about us enough to ask how we are, or to offer suggestions hoping to help. These are my emotional reactions to the frustrations, not me wanting people to leave me alone. Please DON'T stop asking me how we are! Really! Sidebar over :)
This is NOT tired. This is bone-crushing, irregular heartbeat, losing your hair, PHYSICAL stress that I can't describe. I've had a baby before. I've been tired. I've been sleep deprived. This....this is NOT that. I can't communicate clearly enough for people to understand how absolutely CRAZY I feel. That on the bad weeks, I'm greeting my husband at the door in hysterical tears--multiple days a week...that I've actually wondered more than once how Aaron is going to explain to Camdon why mommy died. I've actually thought, "this is literally going to kill me". I'm not trying to be dramatic, I've just honestly felt that.
This isn't how this experience was supposed to go.
I'm not naive. I've had a baby before. I know they are all different. Our first wasn't a great sleeper herself (even just a year ago!), so I thought we knew the tricks.
I didn't even know a baby could BE like this. I didn't even know it was a possibility.
I had to ask for help again this morning. I hate doing that. I hate seeing friends at dance class too. They MUST be tired of talking to me about it. I am. I feel like everyone must be rolling their eyes thinking, "I don't want to talk to Deanna. All she ever does is talk about sleep". Or more likely...I'm starting to get "the look". The look where you know people are thinking, "at 7 months, if he's not sleeping any better than that, she must be coddling him. If she'd just toughen up on him, he'd sleep. I know I'd never let MY kid get away with that". I know that look....I've THOUGHT that look before. How could I have been so wrong??
Sometimes, you can try to do everything right and parenting STILL doesn't work out the way you'd like.
I hate this. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I just want it to be BETTER. I just want him to sleep. I don't want to have to ask people for help because I can't take care of my own babies and my own house and my own husband. I don't want to want to get AWAY.
I don't know how to fight off the overwhelming demands of my own physical exhaustion...and yet, it's not like I'm going to bed and sleeping all night while my baby screams. I get up. Aaron gets up. We both get up. Over and over. Months and months. I get dressed. I make dinner. I grocery shop. We go to dance class.
I AM trying. It's like a monster that I can't beat. I'm running into the ground trying.
I know it's better than months ago. My hair isn't really falling out anymore. My heartbeat has been more regular for the most part...now, it's a warning sign when it isn't. This is because we've been learning to manage the situation, and people have been willing to help. It's not because the situation is better.
I'm pissed that I even HAVE to manage it. That some days I can't find my motivation, my energy, my passion for life and mama-hood. I'm pissed that I can't watch a movie with my husband before bed because if I stay up to do that, I can't function the next day. I'm pissed that Brynne's last year before school is almost over, and I feel like I've spent too much of it barely surviving.
I never understood before now how absolutely effective sleep deprivation can be as a torture tactic. Now I do. If I HAD any information to give up, I WOULD! I just want to remember the days where I woke up feeling rested...where I don't feel so tired that I don't want to function. Where I feel like I'm beating the challenges instead of getting the crap kicked out of me.
I want OFF this ride. I want to take both my sweet babies and get OFF this ride.
And seriously, who wants to drink rotten lemonade?
Someone told me, "You'll write your first book about this season of life". Hehe. I can't even remember half of this season. :)
I've been thinking about blogging for awhile now, about sleep and what I feel like the Lord is showing me during this...extended....period of time in our life. He IS moving and speaking, and I've been tossing around whether or not to share.
I think I will. Sometime.
But I think, if I'm going to write my hope-filled "Jesus is showing up so it's all good" post.....it's only fair if I also blog on one of my bad days. Of which there have been many. One of the days that also exposes the deep struggle I've had during this season.
Seems fair.
So I haven't written anything. The spiritual blog posts are so much easier to write. They make you sound struggling AND strong. Frustrated AND spiritual.
Win win.
My dad recently pointed out to me that maybe part of the call on our family is to be living object lessons. I want to be willing to do that. I want to be real and not just spiritual. What are the points of what He's working in me if I'm afraid to tell people where I started?
So consider this object lesson part 1. The bad day. (Written WHILE I was having one :)
(Please don't write me and inquire after my salvation or the safety of my kids...or husband :) This is my attempt to be as honest as I can about how low this situation can be....I'm not losing it, just exposing it)
I want a do-over. This isn't the experience we were supposed to have.
The baby is 7 months old now. I am sitting in the living room drinking (what Aaron calls) the chemical latte while Brynne paints at the dining room table. I'm seriously trying not to start crying. This morning she threw a fit about wearing rain boots instead of snowboots to dance class (we got a couple of inches in April, and I already put away the snow boots-!-), and I snapped at her in the car.
That's one of the number one things I hate about this. Brynne gets the shaft. Her mama doesn't have the energy to engage the way I used to, and often, I'm alot snippier than I want to be. I hate this, and yet, I'm going to sit here and keep blogging because I'm so frustrated I can't think straight. The baby of course, is sleeping. Now that it's daytime. Now that I have to be awake.
I've seriously lost hope that he's EVER going to get it right. I know how hard he's been trying...for a long time. I've heard every possible suggestion...at least three times. We've tried them all. We have a wonderful sleep expert who has given up her time and her email address to me in an attempt to help us. She's mostly support for me now. No solution to be had.
Seriously, 7 months.
All my friends whose children are MONTHS younger are starting to get sleep. All my presuppositions about my "parenting to sleep" ability are gone. Turns out, it really ISN'T how great your parenting is, or sometimes even how consistent you are. We've had our routine down to the very same lullaby for months. MONTHS. The very same lovey, the very same fan setting, the very same shoosh and pat... It hasn't helped. In fact, he's regressed in the last 2 months, big time. Two nights ago he was up 10 times. TEN TIMES. I feel like Jessie from Toy Story, who finds out she has to go back into storage. "I don't want to go back there. I CAN'T!" (pardon the preschool movie lines...I remember movie lines. I'm also watching almost all preschool movies these days :)
Some days, I feel calm in the midst. Today, I feel angry. I'm so frustrated I could scream at the cutest baby in the world. I don't. I just think it. Sometimes I get snappy with everyone else.
I want a do-over. This isn't how this experience is supposed to go.
I want to savor every moment, but I can't. I found enough energy to clean up the house three times yesterday. Today, the rooms look trashed with baby toys and crumbs again, and I can't bring myself to care.
I look back at the past 7 months, and I feel like I don't remember enough of it. I feel like I was robbed of the opportunity to enjoy our first months as a family of four. It isn't something I've done wrong, it's something that's been done TO me. The baby is learning so many new things, and I just keep thinking how fast it's going. And yet, all I seem to have the energy for is mindlessly using this computer or letting Brynne watch more than one movie in a day. God forbid I have to plan dinner. It's not like I have the hands (or the time alone) to put it together anyway.
I feel like a bad mom. I'm just too tired to care, and too frustrated to be happy. I don't know how to fix this, and when I get this tired, I'm not sure how to NOT feel frustrated. No one around me does, either. Not the pediatrician, not the sleep expert. They assure me that there's nothing physically wrong with him, and that what we are doing at home is "all the right things".
Even when he has a good night, I just use the energy to brace myself and prop our life back up for the next night, which is sure to be tough. He's had full weeks (or two or three) of major improvement...sometimes only getting up 2-3 times each night....but then we crash back down. Even three weeks of improvement isn't enough to fill me with hope anymore. I find myself looking to the day when he's old enough to just say, "if you can't sleep, you can read until you're tired. But mommy and daddy are going to sleep." What's that, 3, 4 years away?
On days like today I feel like I can't express with my words how desperate I feel inside. People don't really understand. Most of the time I hear, "Have you tried..." or "I remember that when mine were little..."
But you know what? Chances are...they don't. Did their babies get up 5-10 times a night at 7 months old? Not starting at 7 months...all the way THROUGH to 7 months (actually more like 10-12 times a night for a LONG time). If not, then they don't. And by the way, I know the ones that do, because of how they look at me. One of them came into my living room a couple of weeks ago and just cried while she was talking to me. This isn't something you just, "laugh about later". Her son is 15. Still not laughing.
(total sidebar: I really am SO thankful for the people who care about us enough to ask how we are, or to offer suggestions hoping to help. These are my emotional reactions to the frustrations, not me wanting people to leave me alone. Please DON'T stop asking me how we are! Really! Sidebar over :)
This is NOT tired. This is bone-crushing, irregular heartbeat, losing your hair, PHYSICAL stress that I can't describe. I've had a baby before. I've been tired. I've been sleep deprived. This....this is NOT that. I can't communicate clearly enough for people to understand how absolutely CRAZY I feel. That on the bad weeks, I'm greeting my husband at the door in hysterical tears--multiple days a week...that I've actually wondered more than once how Aaron is going to explain to Camdon why mommy died. I've actually thought, "this is literally going to kill me". I'm not trying to be dramatic, I've just honestly felt that.
This isn't how this experience was supposed to go.
I'm not naive. I've had a baby before. I know they are all different. Our first wasn't a great sleeper herself (even just a year ago!), so I thought we knew the tricks.
I didn't even know a baby could BE like this. I didn't even know it was a possibility.
I had to ask for help again this morning. I hate doing that. I hate seeing friends at dance class too. They MUST be tired of talking to me about it. I am. I feel like everyone must be rolling their eyes thinking, "I don't want to talk to Deanna. All she ever does is talk about sleep". Or more likely...I'm starting to get "the look". The look where you know people are thinking, "at 7 months, if he's not sleeping any better than that, she must be coddling him. If she'd just toughen up on him, he'd sleep. I know I'd never let MY kid get away with that". I know that look....I've THOUGHT that look before. How could I have been so wrong??
Sometimes, you can try to do everything right and parenting STILL doesn't work out the way you'd like.
I hate this. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I just want it to be BETTER. I just want him to sleep. I don't want to have to ask people for help because I can't take care of my own babies and my own house and my own husband. I don't want to want to get AWAY.
I don't know how to fight off the overwhelming demands of my own physical exhaustion...and yet, it's not like I'm going to bed and sleeping all night while my baby screams. I get up. Aaron gets up. We both get up. Over and over. Months and months. I get dressed. I make dinner. I grocery shop. We go to dance class.
I AM trying. It's like a monster that I can't beat. I'm running into the ground trying.
I know it's better than months ago. My hair isn't really falling out anymore. My heartbeat has been more regular for the most part...now, it's a warning sign when it isn't. This is because we've been learning to manage the situation, and people have been willing to help. It's not because the situation is better.
I'm pissed that I even HAVE to manage it. That some days I can't find my motivation, my energy, my passion for life and mama-hood. I'm pissed that I can't watch a movie with my husband before bed because if I stay up to do that, I can't function the next day. I'm pissed that Brynne's last year before school is almost over, and I feel like I've spent too much of it barely surviving.
I never understood before now how absolutely effective sleep deprivation can be as a torture tactic. Now I do. If I HAD any information to give up, I WOULD! I just want to remember the days where I woke up feeling rested...where I don't feel so tired that I don't want to function. Where I feel like I'm beating the challenges instead of getting the crap kicked out of me.
I want OFF this ride. I want to take both my sweet babies and get OFF this ride.
Comments
I cannot absolutely not imagine what it would be like. I have days where Seth has a terrible night but it goes back to better sleep, so I can't relate.
I'm praying for your family and I can't wait to hear what God has been speaking to you. I hope to God that He has something amazing planned after all of this. (((Hugs)))
I read an article recently about grieving with others. (Molly Piper wrote it here. http://mollypiper.com/2011/02/when-you-want-to-say-i-cant-imagine-just-try/)
While I cannot relate to what you're saying, I will imagine. I will imagine as I pray for you. And, I WILL be praying for you, my friend.
You're not alone. Even though you feel like you are ... maybe we can't quite understand, but now more of us know so that we can hold you up in prayer every day.
I am praying today that the favor of the Lord would come powerfully upon your family and shine a light on what you should do. And we're going to keep praying.
Thank you for sharing your heart.
I too will lift you up in prayer May God watch over you and your whole family in this season
Denise
I admire you my dear daughter and friend! I want to be more like you.
Love you!
Dad