The Bipolar Blogging Mom

I unintentionally hate my baby some moments. Not days. Not all the time. The moments are brief and fleeting but they’re there and I have to verbalize it or else it’s a secret that festers in my mind. There’s a few reasons I come to this conclusion and standpoint at times and I won’t deny that it’s not completely selfish and absorbed. We had a good system here with my oldest and husband, and little man’s screaming entrance and performance daily has diminished our peace. Our former family of three used to cuddle in the mornings, I could make my appointments, and had the energy to workout and cook and clean each night. He has forced me to become a morning person with the worst type of rooster crowing in my ears at early waking hours and it has relentlessly been around 5 am every morning since his birth which is right when my husband leaves for work. I get resentful at my husband feeling like he gets to run away from the chaos of the early mornings and I would kill for a quiet morning. He usually goes back to bed as it’s too early for him but not without a bit of a fight (sometimes requiring me to set up down safely and walk away in which he calms down in moments). It’s like my presence aggravates him and that’s not what my expectation was of my baby. I wanted to be able to step in and immediately be someone’s comfort. And not having that has resulted in feelings of a failure and like why did I think he would just always find comfort in me? Some moments he doesn’t even like nursing as he is challenged by new developmental phases or he feels stuffy or is over tired. But I’ve become short and incapable of rationally considering that during the fussiness and when I’m over tired and feeling isolated. I can hear that evil creeping voice on my shoulder saying, “you can’t figure this baby out can you? Why did you think you can raise children with your disorder? Somethings surely wrong with him AND you”. Other days I’m mad and feel he knows that I’ve just settled into a project or closed my eyes to sleep and think this must be the ONLY time he screams (completely irrational) but in my head he’s doing it on purpose. It’s like my ability to have motherly patience and compassion is so fused short and I’m finding myself struggling with tolerance daily. Was it this way with my first? I think I handled things better. Where now, I’m taking it personal which is ridiculous.

I wanted him so bad; I wanted this baby. A friend asked me a few months ago, “why did you even want a second baby?” After I dumped my emotional suicidal baggage on her. I became defensive and stopped our conversation. Was it the most helpful question to a depressed new mom? No probably not something I would personally say. But was there something genuine about the question I needed to ask myself and review? Yes.

So why did I want this second boy? I felt like an urge to have my son not be solo. I have such a kindred heart towards my brother that I wanted him to experience too. But more deeply, I wanted someone to love intensely and love me back. When we were trying for a baby I felt rejected by many “friends” that said they’d be here for me forever. I’ve since learned that no one can guarantee that. Not through life or death no matter what promises are made and what is at stake. It doesn’t mean I always want to accept that reality but I’m realizing I need to be happier internally to fulfill those voids and not rely so much on others. It’s getting easier with my friend base but it’s hard some days when my family/in laws reject me, I feel rejection or failure with my sons, or my husband and I are seeing odds. So it’s a work in progress… practice makes improvement right? (I heard that quote recently and loved the change made to the perfection piece).

I don’t know what I’m even trying to say anymore. I’m tired. I’m sick of cancelling plans because his naps are so so key to his calm serenity. My natural bipolar sporadic self hates being pinned to a rigid schedule and constantly depending on his happy wake periods to do much is exhausting on my soul. Having to stop projects that take so much motivation to begin is like constantly being stuck in an unnerving loop of craziness. And heck the boy doesn’t even like to be carried or pushed around in a stroller right now. But first and foremost, I end up blaming his fits on my rage that I take out on my husband and oldest and most of all myself. It’s not his fault, I need to do the self-maintenance and work to stop that but it’s so so hard. So know if you relate to any of this is completely see you today. If you have to set your baby down safely and walk away, you are an amazing mom. If you hate moments of motherhood, you’re in the right club here sister. If you just need an honest conversation about parenting, I’m your gal. But for today ask yourself why you think your baby was placed into your life (regardless of if there was a plan or not) and consider what strengths you’re supposed to be challenged with. I’m going to try hard with that today.