Personal experience: Look, I'm so imperfect, and I have terrible days
New moon. Teeth are already visible in the gum of the baby. Burning, sweeping panamas and solar umbrellas wind on the street. And the sun, no less burning. Today we have a difficult day with a baby.
He is rare lately difficult day when I clearly talk to the whole family - I feel bad, I have no strength, I can only shove with him, save, take, play. They come, save, take away, play - a little later than I wanted, but I smell sobbing, I exhale, everything is most like for some time. I was extremely lucky in this moment - she had anyone to ask for help, and I received it.
After childbirth, the first couple of months I had no one to say, and it was very difficult. Probably, nothing more difficult in my life has not yet done. And I still process this experience, I close, I choose the gifts from him, I unleash the insults. I was then constantly. With a baby on the chest and together, in the bathroom, on her husband's chest, one in the pillow. Then, gradually, it became less and less - I began to "cope". In the sense, to escalate, give yourself an oxygen mask first of all, exhale. Well, the kid has grown, it became easier. Now it is quite rare, once-two per month. But it happens.
But today, today the very day. He humps all the time, I cry with him, we are very bad. All like that. I can't play, distract, displacing on the handles - I am empty from the same difficult night, I have no strength. I go to the floor as it is, I get the chest - on, do what you want, sucking as much as you like, fall asleep right here, but forgive me - I am not capable of more. Agolate, I understand that it would be necessary to do, but I can not. Physically I can not, in this particular moment. In the body pulsates "Danger, danger! Moral exhaustion! We rest urgently rest! " And I rest - how it turns out. Lying on a dirtiest floor, with a twingetty T-shirt, with a picked baby in the pose of Zy. Crying. Fifteen minutes. This is my oxygen mask, that very. Then it becomes easier, I get up and do something, soothing the child. The day continues. Help comes, too.
I am writing this not for someone to regret me. And it's not at all for someone to say - what are you doing, look, I am a single mother with two and nothing! And the children in Africa are hungry at all! .. Thank you, I know, go away by right by, please.
I am writing this because it happens. This is normal, this is part of life. In instagram and facebooks, we are all the ideal, you know. Everything is always good, the children were swathers and smile, and we are taut and beautiful against the background of blatse landscapes. But this is not the case - in life. We all have such days - complex, difficult, sometimes completely unbearable.
And this is normal. And talk about it - heavily. In general, to recognize the feelings and talk about them - aless.
I have a difficult relationship with my mother, we love each other very much, but we often do not understand very often. Especially in terms of feelings. Since childhood, she forbade me to cry, if I was not physically painful, and in this case it was necessary to urgently calm down, for my tears were unpleasant. And many other feelings could not be exercised. For example, anger. Or sadness. And even unnecessary, according to her, love.
Now I grew up and let me feel everything. I cry, laugh, I love, sad - how much. Compensate.
But you know that most of all I was reconciled with my mother on this issue? .. She came to me when Rick was a month and a half. She told in Skype that she was not cope with this alone and, throwing everything, came to help. And he told how she, after my birth, too, all in snot and tears met her husband from work, with a mountain of unwashed dishes, with incomprehensible diapers. MY, such a strong mom.
I was grateful to her, more than ever.
And so now I am writing to you - look, I'm so imperfect, and I have terrible days. I am living, real. And you know what else? Everything is with you and with me good. This is normal.
