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Ben is sleeping at six hour stretches through the night now and it's incredible. For awhile, he was waking every hour and a half and not really taking naps during the day. He got this from me. I suck at naps--I'm afraid I'll miss something exciting, I guess, and so is he. I handled it for a couple of weeks, but then I spent all day crying, sometimes hysterically. I was such a mess in my 6 week post partum check up that my doctor prescribed me anti-depressants. I haven't taken them. Part of it was lack of sleep, part of it was raging hormones and part of it was missing Nate so badly. The first two making the latter so much worse. I was also plagued by morbid thoughts of Ben being hurt or not waking up in the morning and thinking that I would know exactly what he would look like if he died in the night. Fucked up thoughts, indeed. Thank God they seem to be dissipating.
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I'm a cloth diaper dropout. I spent hours researching diapers, dropped a few hundred dollars on some and um, it's a no-go. I preached the wonders of cloth dipes to anyone who would listen--"Do you know how many dirty diapers end up in our landfills?" and "Do you have any idea how many chemicals are in disposable diapers?" and "They make them so easy to use these days! No Pins!!" and "I like doing laundry!" (I really do, used to anyway.) Ugh, whatever. That was before I had a kid that pees every five minutes. I'm going to give myself a break, though. We recycle everything and my husband has an obsession with composing. We have an elaborate system of rotting organic goodness in our backyard. So at least we're doing something for the planet. Anyway....I'm probably going to sell an assload of size 0 Kissaluvs soon :( I might try cloth again when he's older, but in the meantime I have to listen to a chorus of "told you so's!!"
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I've been pregnant, recovering from a birth, waiting to get pregnant, pregnant, recovering from a D&C and pregnant since May of 2005. I've either been pregnant or obsessed with being pregnant. Now I'm carrying around the left over weight of two and a half pregnancies and since I sat on my ass for the entirety of this last one, I'm weak and tired and completely out of shape. So.....I'm starting with a personal trainer on the 28th. If I lost 20 pounds, I'd feel a hell of a lot better, but if I lost 40 I'd actually be kinda hot again. I also want to start running. I've always wanted to be a runner and now Tom is running every morning and doing 5k's. It would be nice if we could do that together. I have to start looking forward now and I'm going to start that by getting healthy again. My whole world has been standing still since 22 and a half months ago. But I need to get healthy physically, spiritually and emotionally for little brother. It's just not fair to Ben otherwise.
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Speaking of feeling better--I'm getting my gall bladder removed tomorrow!!!! Woot, woot!! I can't believe that I'm excited to have an organ removed, but I can't wait. My gall bladder is horrible and vile and I want it OUT!! The stupid little bastard has been torturing me since July. I don't know what else to say about that. I'm happy, that's all.
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Today's my birthday. I'm 33. Or 32 or 34. It all runs together after 30. Okay, yeah, I'm 33. I haven't done anything except go to my pre-admit for the above. I want to go out for sushi and I want big glasses of wine. I haven't had either since I had Ben and I have to make up for it. I wonder what Tom got me...he usually does pretty well with gifts. He picks up on hints better than most.
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Ben laughs in his sleep. I wonder what he's dreaming about. Maybe he's playing with his big brother. I love him so much and it's so hard to see what we'd been missing out on. But I kind of expected that going into this.
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Here is one of Ben's Christmas pictures. He was six weeks old here.
My sister says that he looks like a centerfold pic with his hand behind his head like that. In all of the others, he's making an "oooo" face because he was screaming and I had to give him his pacifier and yoink it out right before the photographer took the picture. He's silly.
