WhitneyTo Be or Not to Be a Mother -Part Three
January 12th 2007 18:28
Every morning I wake up dreading the day. I suppose it’s good that I hardly have any time to think. Every minute is taken up with someone else’s needs. Even when I go to the bathroom someone is crying for me.
Make the bottles, change two sets of diapers. Bath them. Dress them. Feed them breakfast. Burp her. Hold her. Play with him. Do my errands. Food shop. Feed them lunch. Burp her some more. Change their diapers again. Play some more. Feed them dinner. Burp her again. Change them again. Dress them for bed. Play some more. Read my son a story. Put them to bed.
Make dinner for me and my husband. He comes home at 7:30 P.M. We eat dinner by 7:45 P.M.. Watch a half hour of T.V. before Alex wakes up for a bottle. Feed her. Burp her. Change her. Put her to bed and then I’m off to bed.
No reprieve. No help. No time to think. No time for me.
Still feel completely numb. Can’t understand how my husband hasn’t noticed. I walk around like a zombie. Have to save all my energy to pretend for the kids. When I’d gone to the Ob/Gyn for my six week check I’d mentioned it to him. He suggested I needed a break, told me he’d see me in a year for my annual, then left the room and didn’t come back.
A break? How would I get one? Too tired to figure it out now. Josh is playing in front of me as I’m feeding Alex a bottle. All I can do is stare. Stare as if I’m in a trance. Something’s wrong. Why aren't I trying to fix it. I always fix what needs to be fixed. Too tired now. Maybe tomorrow.
Make the bottles, change two sets of diapers. Bath them. Dress them. Feed them breakfast. Burp her. Hold her. Play with him. Do my errands. Food shop. Feed them lunch. Burp her some more. Change their diapers again. Play some more. Feed them dinner. Burp her again. Change them again. Dress them for bed. Play some more. Read my son a story. Put them to bed.
Make dinner for me and my husband. He comes home at 7:30 P.M. We eat dinner by 7:45 P.M.. Watch a half hour of T.V. before Alex wakes up for a bottle. Feed her. Burp her. Change her. Put her to bed and then I’m off to bed.
No reprieve. No help. No time to think. No time for me.
Still feel completely numb. Can’t understand how my husband hasn’t noticed. I walk around like a zombie. Have to save all my energy to pretend for the kids. When I’d gone to the Ob/Gyn for my six week check I’d mentioned it to him. He suggested I needed a break, told me he’d see me in a year for my annual, then left the room and didn’t come back.
A break? How would I get one? Too tired to figure it out now. Josh is playing in front of me as I’m feeding Alex a bottle. All I can do is stare. Stare as if I’m in a trance. Something’s wrong. Why aren't I trying to fix it. I always fix what needs to be fixed. Too tired now. Maybe tomorrow.
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