Actually don’t all start panicking that I am trying to plan some kind of life exit strategy, I’m really really not! But do you ever get that feeling you have just completely and utterly had enough and if life throws one more thing at you then you are going to run away and hide for ever and ever?
Am kind of feeling that at the minute and it’s scaring me a little. It has been a fairly hellish three years and actually I don’t think I have taken time to breathe or take stock as we have lurched from one crisis to another. Before Sept 2008 all was relatively normal. H and I both had busy jobs that we both enjoyed (me possibly more than him- I really really love my job!). We had a lovely perfect amazing wedding (organised with terrifying military precision by bridezilla moi.) and started trying to concieve #1 shortly after. Have to confess I went a little bit mental on the baby making stakes and that really wasn’t fun and then I got pregnant and had a joyous 10weeks of pregnancy until I started to bleed and lost the baby, that was devastating. We picked ourselves up, dusted ourselves off and miraculously I fell pregnant again with no gap. Except this time I don’t think I breathed during that pregnancy til 20weeks and I felt Munchkin kicking all the time. Then of course came the birth and the aftermath (this blog helps!) and newborn hell. Then when Munchkin was 6months we decided to move away from all our friends and start a new life in a new city nearer family (having basically been stewing over a big move decision since she was born). Except we couldn’t move there straight away so moved into a house owned by family and lived out of boxes while househunting for months and months. H was still working or revising so away a lot and in about November of last year that was when my PTSD symptoms started to worsen (think I had been on autpilot before)- it was the three month run up to Munchkins first birthday and I really didn’t want to celebrate it. Of course I wanted to celebrate her but I couldn’t celebrate how she got into the world, and I felt so guilty about that, I’d also been badly triggered by seeing a clip of one born every minute and was just generally struggling. In the meantime found a house to buy but it needed a massive amount of work so we were trying to get the sale completed and organise all the work. In January of that year just before Munchkins first birthday I found out I was pregnant again. I was angry (was sort of unplanned) and numb and really didn’t want to be pregnant. When I started bleeding the next day it was a relief. Except the pain and bleeding got worse. I went to see H in his flat in the city we were moving too (I was still in family house but he had started work) and thank god I did as that morning I had to be rushed to hospital where I was diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy and was operated on within hours. My overwhelming sense was relief- and that scared me. I did want more kids but being pregnant had so utterly terrified me that losing another baby didn’t carry the same awful grief as the miscarriage did I genuinely was relieved and even today while writing this I don’t know if I have ever grieved for the ectopic pregnancy in the same way I grieved for the miscarriage pregnancy. Anyhow again picked myself up dusted myself off and started counselling as it was clear I now needed help for the childbirth trauma stuff (this counselling was pretty useless TBH). We also completed on the house, celebrated Munchkins first birthday and I pretty much single handedly project managed (Am an organised control freak!) a major renovation on a house which took 8weeks in the the end and involved us living out of boxes in a tiny flat before finally moving into our house in April, and then trying to meet and make friends in this strange new city. I had also moved away from my job that I loved and although I am still working freelance a bit from home it doesn’t carry the same buzz as my old job did and I really miss that and have struggled with my new role as a mostly stay at home parent. Somehow in all of this I found myself pregnant again (this time planned)- bloody miracle considering only one tube and first month of trying! and the first trimester was a blur of sickness, worry, flashbacks and sorting out ELCS and CBT. Second trimester has been better in terms of dealing with the PTSD stuff but not without its own crisis which isn’t really for this blog but has been source of major wobbles in my relationship with H.
I also know that very soon I am going to have a toddler and a newborn to deal with and to be quite honest I am a bit worried about how I am going to cope with it all. I mean I know I will cope because that’s just what I do, but for the first time I am feeling like my emotional reserves are running low and I need to really look after myself to make sure this doesn’t develop into PND or something worse. So yeah that’s why I’d like to stop the world and get off for a bit and come back later when I actually feel mentally and physically ready for the next challenge- The Womble challenge! Alternatively dya reckon Dr Who will lend me his tardis to go back in time and maybe have a different masterplan one where we just enjoyed being married for a couple of years before the kids rollercoaster began? And then my awesome little Munchkin and Womble joined us a few years later perfectly without trauma and without losing the other babies? That would be lovely and great. Ta.
Anyhow I know I can’t really pause time and Womble is coming into this world in January (hope not before) whether I like it or not. So maybe my killer organisational skills need to work on some quick fix masterplans to restore those emotional reserves in time. Sadly they can’t include copious amounts of Oyster Bay sauvignon Blanc. Annoying. Any other ideas?