Monday Charlie was a tad clingy and sobby.
I couldn’t put him down long enough to pee without his bursting into tears and wanting to be picked up.
When Cort and Eddie got home just after 5pm, I was still in my jammies with my bathrobe on (complete with spit up all down the one side) completely not showered.
The pony tail I threw in my hair was barely holding on, and all the bobby pins I used were doing nothing except making me attractive to magnets.
I was greasy, smelly, tired, and frustrated.
But I was not angry.
I did not feel like throwing Charlie at Cort when he walked through the door.
I was not a crying mess.
It was just a hard day.
That was all.
Yesterday was my birthday.
Normally I like my whole entire day to be special.
Charlie did not know it was my birthday. He ate and slept and pooped and spit up as if it was any other day.
And I was totally Ok with it.
I did not get sad about not going out that night.
I was not angry that no flowers or balloons or big surprises didn’t happen.
I had a quiet “normal” day at home with my newborn.
It wasn’t my most memorable birthday, but it was lovely.
It was simple.
And I was Ok.
Today I was finally cleared to use stairs and to drive.
I haven’t driven my car since Friday, March 9. I was ready to leave. the. house.
So I made a Target list.
Cort put the carrier base in my car.
And after lunch, Charlie and I loaded up and headed out.
I did not go back and forth about whether or not I should take the baby out.
I didn’t worry that he would cry in the store.
I wasn’t concerned about being alone out in the world with him without “back up”.
I just went.
We shopped like normal people.
We went through the Starbucks drive thru.
We came home.
And without my melting down with anxiety.
Tonight Cort had class.
I did not call my mom to come “help”.
I made both boys their dinner and then I ate mine.
I put both boys in their baths.
I got both boys in jammies.
I read books to both of my boys all cuddled on the couch.
And when Cort came home around Eddie’s bedtime, we were Ok sitting on the couch while Charlie slept in my arms and Eddie played a matching game on my Nook.
It was a quiet night with no toddler tantrums, no baby freak outs other than being cold after bath, and no mommy meltdowns.
I didn’t even worry about being home “without back up” with two boys.
I just did it.
To some of you, this is the most humdrum post I have ever posted.
To me, it is the most victorious post that I have posted in a long freaking time.
To some, this is what being a mom is. It’s a no brainer.
To me, this “ease” came hard. There were so many bumps in the road.
Being “normal” was not “normal” for me.
I am fully aware that there will be more days of “not good,” and I know that I will cry and melt down about mom stuff.
But right now, the crippling anxiety that keeps me locked in the house watching the world from my window is not happening.
The depression that causes me to shove babies in my husband’s arms so I can cry and sleep away my feelings is not happening.
It’s only been two weeks.
But I remain cautiously optimistic that this time, PPD and PPA WILL NOT HAPPEN.
But just in case, I am sleeping with a baseball bat.
Because neither one of them is welcome in this house.