I've been MIA for a while because there's shit loads of stuff going on at the mo. And they're all significant enough for me to want to bury my head for a little bit.
I can't say what's been getting to me the most; each "issue" comes with it's own niggles. My own body is making me very nervous at the moment, mainly because I feel like it is seriously failing me. My right hip has never been the same since delivering Isaac. There have been times, all too often, where I'm not even limping around the house, I simply can't even lift my foot up off the floor. Like, actually dragging my leg behind me, no ability to move from the spot I'm standing on, unless I can grab something to drag myself along.
Now I know I'm really good at exaggerating. But this whole leg thing? That's the truth. And it scares the shit out of me. I think back to the medals I used to win for athletics; how I held records for sprinting; and wonder if I will ever be even a shadow of my physically fit former self.
It terrifies me that I can't even run up the stairs. I can walk for maybe 15 minutes (if I don't hurt in the first place) before I'm in agony. No position is comfortable to sleep in. It scares me shitless that when lying on my back, and the doc says "ok, raise your right leg", I can't. It's like someone asked me to pick up a house. I just physically can not do it.
And even worse lately, I feel utterly shit (and stupid) for previously being so proud about my milk stores; there's hardly any milk left in the freezer, and milk on tap is very low. Isaac hasn't put on any weight at all for 2 weeks now. Mme. HV has said not to get him weighed next week, but to wait til the week after. Yes, ok he sleeps through the night. Yes ok, he's one pretty active kiddo already. I can dig that. And I guess you're all saying "Well he's such a contented baby, he is sleeping through the night and has been for some time (you jammy bitch and we all hate you)" which I can understand.
But there's a silent panic, you know? That uneasy feeling of wondering if one day I'm suddenly going to have no milk and he's gonna be...uh, the other stuff. The F Word, if you will. I don't want to go down that route. I don't judge anyone else, but for me personally, that would feel like I'd failed somehow.
I repeat, I do NOT judge anyone else for using formula...this is just my personal view on bringing up my own child.
And then there's my questionable stomach muscles, or lack thereof. Granted in the last 2 years I've carried a total of 22lbs of baby, so my stomach is shot to shit. I can understand that. And no, I don't expect to see dramatic changing results overnight. I appreciate that. But some, just some improvement would be good, you know? I'd like to NOT have a spare tyre around my waist. I don't over eat (I don't get chance) and don't have the capability to do the exercises I'd like to do. I'm tired of sitting on my ass because I can't do much else, feeling like some kind of lazy slob.
I'm doing mild crunches just to get the muscles to knit back together (after delivery there was a gap of about 4 fingers worth). It bothers me. A LOT. And I don't feel good about myself at all. I hate the way I look. It sucks.
The whole house selling thing sucks. D working every insane hour and hardly getting to see his boys sucks. This constant headache and lack of sleep sucks. The boys being poorly AGAIN sucks.
So, you know, for fun, I thought I'd save up all my whining and vent it all out to you guys in one go.
I know. That sucks too.