The extraction happened. Everything…happens. Will happen. Happening. Happened.
Did you know that untreated hypothyroidism can = psychosis? It can! Fun!
The sleep deprivation is starting to catch up with me as is the physical pain associated with breastfeeding. I'm given to understand things like: "breastfeeding isn't supposed to be painful" and "fed is best". However, I breastfed L for...what...like four goddamn years? It eventually started feeling a little bit better, but, especially at the beginning, it fucking hurts. For at least a month. Significantly more than my incision hurts. And I investigated it to hell and back with L and the only conclusions we (myself and the lactation consultants) really came to were that:
a) her mouth is small (fair)
b) my nipples are big (not necessarily something anyone cares to now, but in this context - relevant)
c) L has something called a bubble palate which isn't something anyone can do anything about and just sucks. There are, evidently, some techniques to try so I'll look into that - especially over the next few days because I will be in airports where there will be little else to look into. Or around OTs who might
have Opinions about lactation. Not as many Opinions as SLPs might have, but still - more than zero.
d) It will, eventually, resolve as her mouth gets bigger.
But none of that helps at the moment, in which I am sad and in pain and ibuprofen and Tylenol only go so far, really. And I don't particularly want to use the five oxycodone that were dispensed to me for pain emergencies. Not yet.
S has been watching H for a couple of hours at night while I sleep (and fielding her in other less formal ways when he's home) which has been helpful. Her little but has not been sleeping during the night very well. I assume part of this is that the environment is maybe too chill? She sleeps pretty well during the day with background noise and lights but turn off those lights and put on some white noise and it's party time, baby. There's also the bit where she's not gaining weight and, in fact, losing weight at a rate that nobody likes which might be due to the aforementioned bubble palate. In any case, she's under strict feed at least every two hours protocol which isn't doing much for my sleep, personally.
Otherwise, there was a moderate-sized kerfuffle around her heart function which has resolved. There's a foramen that hadn't closed and now has closed and some oxygen saturation concerns which are no more.
We're leaving on a plane this afternoon after a mental health telehealth appointment and I haven't really decided how I'm doing or how to articulate this to my NP. Am I coping well? ...no? I am postpartum? That is a circle of hell fo' sho'. Do I want additional medication for that? ...I don't know? There are some very real issues that I need to deal with and SSRIs tend to make me a little more passive which I'm not sure is needed at the moment. But, then, if I'm too overwhelmed I'm also passive. Six seven. There will be the conversation about the psychology practice I received a referral to and then never heard back from again. How have things been going? Not so bad, not so good. Yes, I would like to continue the Welly B, please.
I am anxious about taking my newborn on a plane, but am hopeful it will go well. I'm mostly worried about her ears and my ability to cope with her crying. Three hours of sleep is not how I wanted to go into this, and the card I pulled today was The Devil which is a bit on the nose, thanks tarot deck. With that being said, I have headphones that are supposed to equalize ear pressure, although I fear it to be quackery. I have a carrier which I'm going to use almost the entire time, and it place her in a good position to try allegedly less painful nursing latches. So. We should get in at midnight and then maybe sleep a bit, and then it's Go Time. And there are a bazillion variables that I am not looking forward to dealing with when we get there - mostly related to things like: can I wear her the whole time? Do I really have to carry all the shit in a Ziploc bag? How long is this all going to take?, Where the hell is the parking lot?, etc.
S has been *sigh* in a sort of...idk...Russian mystic headspace lately. Definitely lighting his candles in a daze, as it were. This has involved continuing to go to AA meetings a lot, hanging out with his friends and AA support system, and smoking MJ vapes and/or capsules. Like, all day. This is concerning* for reasons which I believe to be obvious, especially in my current anxious state. But if they're not obvious, hey! Check out the footnote.
S also seems to believe as per a conversation with me last night that it is somehow possible for him to leave town to work for a month at a time while also being the stay-at-home parent?** He was venting about work drama (and in construction work drama is pretty...uh...dynamic. There's a very real possibility someone is going to get physically fucked-up.) and then how he approached his boss about it and then that he told his boss he'd be available for intermittent contract work (cool), and that he really didn't want to work in town anymore (what), but that he didn't want to leave town either (uh...), but he would for like a month here and there to earn some extra money for us (I beg your finest pardon?). I shut that down to the best of my ability, but it probably didn't come off as the most therapist-y. When I asked who was going to watch the baby while he was out of town he said, "We'll figure it out." How so? "Well...our parents." Our elderly parents one of whom has ALS and all of whom who would be remotely interested in infant care are over the age of 70? No. No we will not. "Maybe a babysitter." For 40+ hours a week? At the inside that would run us $880 a week. Times 4 weeks on average that's $3520 per month which is assuming we'd be able to find someone who wants to just work sometimes and has crazy open availability and guess who's not gonna do that? Gen Z (because they have self-respect) and/or anyone who's responsible and qualified. Respectfully. Then later that night he was like, "Maybe we get an au pair lol." I...I am just baffled.
Sorry, it's just that: if that's the way it's going to be she already has a spot at one of the best childcare centers in town which we got by some goddamn miracle, so maybe we just take the L and turn it into a W and just pay the $2000 a month so he can continue working I guess? Which is what I thought he didn't want? I'm so confused.
If anyone knows anything about anything, let me know.
Oh, and he's getting into the arts now, which is lovely and I'm happy for him, but it also makes me a little bit sad and annoyed because I am in the newborn forest which is, again, hell and I can't know how to hear about Butoh right now, S, or take you by the heart and take you by the hand and explain it to you. First of all, that's not how it works, and second the girl who got extremely excited about Butoh is if not dead, then, in deep hibernation. I mean, I can point you in some directions and I know some people but as far as me, myself getting Into It - no. Not right now.
Okay, I have more head stuff to get out, including how I feel like L is doing and how I just can't let go of the notion of feeling unsupported (but likely am supported, just not in the ways on which I'm hyper-focused), but I need to finish packing, drink some more caffeine, and shower before The Voyage. Wish me luck. Ima need it. And the capacity to directly ask my parents for help, because they are not the type of people to explicitly recognize or offer it - which makes my personal nonsense make so much sense if you think about it!
Ciao.
*We have a set of couple friends who like to talk about being "California sober" although they themselves are not exactly sober at all, but are more the mixing fancy cocktails based on Fallout or from a steampunk cocktail book - you know the vibe. V, the wifey of the couple, listens politely when I briefly freak out about the cannabis use, and speaks about her recreational activities of using gummies to sleep. And, bestie, I am not criticizing your use of cannabis. I am more so concerned that the father of my children, someone who has certainly spoken about having heard voices before and who does frequently come at me with paranoia, and who has up until very recently been very much all-in on taking over more childcare duties including staying home with the kids when I get a big kid job is high literally all day and that when I came home from the hospital my house smelled like a casino but like in the early 2000s because goddess forbid you smoke/vape outside with an infant in the house. ...I am not concerned about the gummies. Okay, as you were.
**??????????
No comments:
Post a Comment