Not only is his crawling, climbing, banging, cruising, and drooling his way all over the house with a new fervor-but he's pooping like he's on overdrive. Maybe it's a growth spurt, I don't know. I'm so caught up in dragging myself through the day that I can't objectively view much of anything lately. All I know is I feel overwhelmed and exhausted quite often and he just doesn't seem to stop (at least not as often as he once did).
|Hard fought nap, a damn hard fought nap.|
Talking to my psychiatrist and my therapist I think it's time to change our breastfeeding routine. It's taking too much outta me (in more than milky ways), I feel too much pressure, I stress about supply too much, I can't get up and pump at night when I need to rest... something has got to give.
I'm seeing the lactation consultant again Monday to discuss options... I wanted to exclusively breastfeed to 9 months or longer, but now I don't think that's reasonable. I'm not well and I need to make life easier for myself. Pretty hard with my perfectionist tendencies to let something like that go, but I can see how parenthood will present this situation to me many times-ideally I wanted this and realistically with my child/life/situation I ended up doing this.
In somewhat better news I started the new drug, lithium. I'm taking 300 mg each night until Monday, when I'll start taking 600 mg for five more days and then we'll take a blood level. The plan is to get the lithium up to a therapeutic dose and then back the Seroquel off. Doc is hoping that with an effective mood stabilizer I won't need the sleep aid effect of the Seroquel or the anti-anxiety med Ativan as often or at all. Seems like pie in the sky stuff to me, but she's the doc and I trust that she knows what to expect of treatment better than I.
On a side note, donating blood Wednesday made me feel good about myself but didn't help with my exhaustion.
On another side note, I had my mother up yesterday (successful visit overall despite my fatigue and some quiet spells) and she only spoke obtusely about my aunt's situation. Today I saw my dad for brekkie down south and he and I spoke about it openly.
We're on a very similar page: saw this coming, just didn't know when, it sucks, the transition will happen, grief etc., then life goes on. It felt good to talk about it with someone that not only had my view but balances the matter of fact feelings with the deep, gooey feelings pretty well. We both felt a little callous for thinking "well, ya smoke and live that way for that long and this is what happens, I never expected her to go peacefully, it sucks, but that's the reality" but realizing we weren't the only person thinking or feeling that way was helpful and also made it easier to express the harder, sadder feelings that are more difficult to access when you can be honest about your experience first and foremost.
He made the simple comment, "She was a good aunt," and it made me remember all the good times when I was younger. She was my favorite aunt, Aunt Sally, the only aunt I felt I really had. She was fun. Then, as I got older, I got more sensitive to her smoking and the deception about my cousin really rankled me. Years of asking her to quit smoking, to be healthier... I finally gave up. It was too sad watching her kill herself like that. I distanced. I withdrew. I used to visit so often and now I can't remember how long it's been. I know that being in her house makes my eyes water and my throat hurt. Sitting near her in a restaurant makes my nose burn. She doesn't go out much and we don't keep in contact so she hasn't met B.B. and I haven't seen her since I was preggers. It's sad. But I don't want to make myself feel worse or responsible... Maybe I will try to arrange a meeting somewhere outside her house where I feel safe bringing B.B. .... Anyways...
Oh, the downlow: she has stage 4 cancer. What type, unsure, just that it's everywhere-lungs, kidneys, lymph nodes, and they've done radiation and are doing chemo trying to shrink it enough to be somewhat operable but as-is it's inoperable. I think the hub's said my mom said it was a 6-12 month outlook scenario (he asked her point blank what was going on and she responded but she has a hard time talking about it with me, I think she's afraid of overloading me). I just don't understand how it got that bad without them knowing, she's had cancer scares before so I would've thought she was being surveilled pretty regular but I guess not. Maybe it was just a fast-mover?
I'm here. I'm moving along. Trying not to get swamped as I paddle my leaky boat through these rough waters, making repairs as I go.
Bless my birds... this northern flicker made quite a mess this morning.