The Sixteenth Day

"Here's a secret: Everyone, if they live long enough, will lose their way at some point. 

You will lose your way, you will wake up one morning and find yourself lost. 

This is a hard, simple truth. If it hasn't happened to you yet, consider yourself lucky. 

One day I'll tell my daughter a story about a dark time, the dark days before she was born, 

and how her coming was a ray of light. 

We got lost for a while, the story will begin, but then we found our way." 

— Nick Flynn

Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.

Ugh- can I say everything in my life right now? The first half of this year was so fast-paced and full of newness- my marriage, the birth of my daughter, a move to a new apartment. But then, something snapped. I guess things began to unravel.

Amelia got colicky- sounds like such a little thing. What an inadequate word. The dictionary states, "2. A condition of unknown cause seen in infants less than three months old, marked by periods of inconsolable crying lasting for hours at a time for at least three weeks." What is it really like? She cries and cries and cries. She cries after you hold her fifty different ways, cries after you rock her, cries when she's done eating, and cries when you change her. She cries for hours when it's time for bed, and you watch the hands on the clock spin around and around. Not whimpers- loud, strong cries. You try anything and everything, over and over, wonder how long this is going to last, and end up sitting next to her in a puddle of your own tears, completely frustrated and worn out. You don't think you can take another day like this, but you know tomorrow could be better- or could be worse. And you feel like a horrible mother for not being able to hush her, to calm her into happiness.

Then there's my back pain. It's been pretty bad ever since I came home from the hospital, centered around the spot that my epidural was given. Lately, it's spread all over my back and hips. So trying to pick up my crying daughter has gotten more and more painful. I was given muscle relaxers, which have helped somewhat- but that means pumping and dumping, and giving her formula until I'm not on them anymore- something I really don't want to do yet. They also make me incredibly sleepy, so that plus the lack of sleep from her makes me feel like a zombie all day. (Side note: When people say "sleep when the baby sleeps", they probably haven't had a baby. My baby requires constant rocking or bouncing to sleep, which makes it impossible to nap at the same time she does.)

There are other worries, big and small, that I can't get into on this blog, but they've shaken my faith in things I thought were unshakable. I'm so disappointed and sad about it, and bitter that I am dealing with those on top of everything else.

Okay. I have sufficiently whined enough for one day! Hopefully, tomorrow is better.