Babypacalypse 

I don’t really have time to write, but if I don’t sit down and try to make sense of this madness my brain might explode.

Everything went well as far as the delivery, and Little has adjusted to her brothers wonderfully. The two things I was most concerned with turned out to be the easiest. Even having two newborns hasn’t been as difficult as I anticipated. 

What got me is Little B2. We’ve been back to the hospital with him three times for additional bloodwork. It looks like he has a congenital thyroid condition, which is thankfully 100% treatable, but he will have to visit a specialist, and be on medication for the rest of his life. He also has a much higher chance of mental issues, which with our current family track record is a very disappointing thing to hear about your nine day old infant. 

So, I’m running on five or six hours of sleep daily, trying to take it easy and not tear open my incision, my mom is here “helping” again, my youngest kiddo is sick, I’m dealing with postpartum mood shifts, it’s December which is historically a difficult month for my PTSD, and I have zero access to any of my usual coping mechanisms. I can’t drive for another week, I can’t go to the gym for another month, even when I can get back to the gym I’m on lifting restrictions until June, and I have no time to blog and organize my thoughts. 

I anticipated a difficult time with their birthday in December and I’ve been doing my best to prepare, but B2 really threw me for a loop. I’m so exhausted, emotionally more than physically, and this adventure is just getting started.  

 

One thought on “Babypacalypse 

  1. Okay so let’s boil this down.

    First of all, you. You are the one factor you have a chance to control. Just remember “control” does not mean “submerge.” You have a good support network, figure out what you need and be nice about the rest (because people -looking at “mom”- will want to add their own touches).

    Second, the kids. “B2” may need a lot of extra attention, he may not. I know you through the webs well enough to believe those three couldn’t have a better mom at seeing time gets divided fairly. The hard part is remembering that whatever the condition is, it is in the hands of God and the doctors. Minimal “hands on the wheel” from you, so subvert worry-energy into caring-energy.

    Third, scream if you want. No one will blame you (no one sane, anyhoo) and you’ll feel better (as long as it is directed away from those you love).

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