So yesterday was therapy. Skipped last week because of the holiday and since last Wednesday I've been having bad thoughts, thoughts of harming the baby, and anger outbursts so had stuff to talk about!
It was a good session. The hubster stayed home from work so he took care of the kiddo which I think helped me let loose at therapy more than usual. I cried and talked about feeling overwhelmed and my bad thoughts and anger. My therapist confirmed my suspicion that I seem to be edging toward a postpartum mood disorder type issue but gave credit to the extra stress I've been experiencing with a move on the horizon and my family junk. I'm comforted that she did want to leap into med recommendations since I'm pretty averse to that, but she did say that we need to be prepared to take action if things don't get better.
Well today things definitely did not get better.
This morning I did not want to move. Did not want to get out of bed, just wanted to sleep. Taking care of Baby was overwhelming from the get go and my resiliency chipped away quick. He was needy and awake longer than I anticipated, spitting up and gassy when he wasn't filling diapers. I didn't eat or drink enough and by 1:30 pm I was at my wit's end.
I made up my mind to set him down and walk away, take a shower actually. I started the shower and went back in the bedroom to check his diaper one last time since he was still complaining. On the changing table he just started screaming harder and I lost it. I clenched my fists and screamed myself. Not directly at him, more like primal rage to the skies, but it scared him terribly.
I felt horrible. It was awful seeming him shocked into silence and then turn red, bottom lip quivering and tears spurting as he screamed the most heart wrenching scream I've heard from him yet. I burst into sobs and picked him up, holding him to my chest as I tried to sooth him but failed completely. I was sobbing, he was screaming, my intermittent "shhhh" just seemed to upset him further.
After a couple of minutes with no improvement I called the hubbo and asked him to come home. It was only 15-20 minutes from his usual time to head home but it mattered. I was hysterical. Sobbing and barely coherent. He calmed me down, told me to put Baby in the swing with a pacifier and take my shower (which was still running in the background).
I did so and after Baby spit up one more time he fell asleep.
I continued my break down in the shower, kneeling in the bottom of the tub, softly wailing and rocking until my toenails turned purple. I hadn't hit my baby, I hadn't physically hurt him, but it felt like I had broken him. He was perfect and I ruined him. Life hadn't scared him yet, and then I did. His mother. I guess that's the natural order but it cut me to the core. I felt like such a failure.
The hubster took charge when he got home and got Baby taken care of and me fed and watered. I'm still shell shocked and gun shy with the baby. It feels like a tie has been cut between us. I know it's not realistic to believe he doesn't trust me anymore because of one incident but it feels that way. I feel like I'm not wanted anymore. I feel a little dead inside now. Still have no reserve. Any cries from Baby and I freak. Hubster going to work from home tomorrow.
In other news we found a new apartment. Well, a condo that the owner is renting out. It's older and while it's a bigger space the storage is more restricted so I'm gonna have an interesting time rearranging our things to fit in it.
While it's a relief to have found a place, and a cheap place at that, I'm still stressing about the moving itself. I feel like such a head case, it's just so hard to calm down right now... I feel like I should be more relieved but that my bottom line hasn't changed much, I'm still barely hanging on.
Hope tomorrow is at least a little better, but right now I feel like disappearing. A den and a hibernation sounds marvelous.