New Normal

I discovered early on with Mira that I did not want to be a stay-at-home mother. I was a much better mother when I went away to work. I can tell you that if I thought I wasn't a good stay-at-home mother, I make a lousy stay-at-hospital mother. I am forever feeling guilty. If I can manage to scrape three hours together, I do not want to work--I want to nap. But, I feel guilty for napping, when I should be earning money. And I feel guilty that I am doing either of those things when I should be sitting with my infant, who is stuck in a hospital bed all alone. And I feel guilty that my momma's girl has to be so grown-up and understanding about the fact that her life is all messed up because of her brother.

Most days I ignore these feelings and push through because I have to; there really isn't an alternative. Quitting my job is not an option. Not having someone here with Patrick is not an option. I considered giving up pumping so that Phil and I could trade places, and I could be with Mira for a while, and he could be here, but Patrick has so much GI trouble already, I can't bear to put him through a (selfish and unnecessary) transition to formula.

I am working on self-care and taking time away. And, when I'm away, I do manage to feel better. The problem is that when I get back, I don't feel refreshed. I feel even more closed in because now I remember what life used to be like. I have less patience than I feel I should have for my cranky little man who has it so much harder than I do.

I am lost. I don't know what to do. I am trying to find meaning and purpose in all of this, but mostly I am finding frustration, sadness, and loneliness. I called my brother today to wish him a happy birthday and ended up dumping most of this on him. He was very kind about it, but I'm thinking I need to be a little more pro-active so that I don't go around dumping on people who least expect it.

I want to run around screaming, "This isn't what I signed up for!", but it won't change the fact that it's what I have. It won't help me cope. And eating a bag of caramel popcorn every day isn't helping either (even if it does taste really good). I feel like I am living in Groundhog's Day, only I have a week on loop instead of a day, so we get good and bad days on repeat. I don't recognize my life anymore. I barely recognize me. It's not all bad--I am certainly much stronger now. But I loved my life; my job; my family; my routine. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for us, and it made me happy. Now I must recalibrate. What passes for normal now? How can I create a routine? What will make this tolerable? How can I find balance? I have no answers. Yet. Hopefully, I can find some soon. God knows I need them.

Normal is a washing machine setting and a town in Illinois.