Again. It was only a matter of time. I seem to be going through the "Wow do I suck as a mom" phase, and it's not making me feel good. I'm determined to make sure it stays as Baby Blues, and doesn't turn into PND because for the love of god, I can't cope with that right now.

We all knew to look out for it, but I thought I might be a little stronger than this. I already seem to be heading to the Land of Neurosis (especially after we made it two weeks before rushing Noah to A&E after he projectile vomited milk out of his nose for the umpteenth time). I didn't want to be the neurotic mom and I hope I never get there.

I've been terrified of PND for some time. It's my worst enemy. My geatest fear. I can't function when I'm depressed and if that happens, we're screwed.

My body is doing a little better and I try to hang on to that, apart from the fact that I cry my eyes out every time time Noah feeds on Left Boob. It's agony. Like some is massaging the nipple with a freshly sharpened razor blade dipped in lemon juice, salt and vinegar. Lovely.

However, my saving grace was hand expressing 250ml off Left Boob. Left Boob was most grateful, especially as it had started threatening me with a bout of mastitis. Cos you know, if Right Booob can do it...

Yesterday morning was a hoot - D has gone back to work and I had to leave the house. Fill the car with petrol, pick up a prescription. Easy. Yeah. Petrol station: assumed I would only be 30 seconds in the shop, pay on the card. Left Noah in the car (Ahhh...Bad Mommy Rookie mistake). Both cards - declined. Emergency call to the bank. Crying out loud. 15 minutes later, I get back into the car and Noah is screaming blue murder. Hooray.

Next - pharmacy. 'Won't be long at all' she says. Lying whore. You would think I had taken the hint from the petrol station and brought Noah in with me. Nope, left him in the car. Again.* 3 frigging days later (ok, 20 minutes later and several trips back out to the car) I get the prescription. Do you think I've even used it? Nope, because my stupid mentality refuses to pump Noah full of crap at less than a month old. Oh. My. God. What the hell is wrong with me?

The good news throughout all of this? I've pooped several times this week. It's surprisingly reassuring.

*My reasons for this are purely selfish - I struggle to carry him in the car seat and it hurts my hip. Solution? Screw my hip and just carry theboy in his car seat. *tsk*