Confessions

NO Kids!

I made it clear to everyone right from the start that I never wanted kids of my own. I knew from a very young age that I was not meant to be a parent. When I played with my dolls, I was babysitting… they were never my own.  My whole family and most my friends have known for a very long time that I didn’t want kids. I appeased them by saying, “I wouldn’t mind adopting… someday.” I never had any intention of adopting.

There were so many times that people made me feel like I was somehow mentally unstable or incredibly selfish for not wanting to procreate. I hate that. My feelings were belittled with statements like the classic, “It’ll be different with your own kids.” You know what, it is different… but not in the way they meant.

I feel like a huge ass sometimes because I have moments that I wish I had gone ahead and had an abortion. (We discussed it often, but Ross didn't feel he could deal with it.) I know Ross would probably have hated me for it, but the way things are going I feel like he’s going to anyway… if he doesn’t already.  At least if I’d had the abortion I wouldn’t be screwing up our kid by being a horrible mom.

Babies Drool

The drooling, pooping, puke, spit up and even kissing babies with open mouths makes me physically ill. That was definitely one of those points where I had most hoped people were right about the “different with your own kids.” They were wrong. Instead, I grin and bear it… feeling like a jerk for being grossed out by my own baby for doing what babies do.

I hated even trying breastfeeding. It made me very uncomfortable. I know it’s natural and best for baby, but it felt creepy to me. I was secretly glad it failed… or I guess secretly glad I had an excuse for it to fail. Please, don’t take that to mean that I’m glad he went through all he did with his birth and the NICU. Even the pumping was/ is dreadful. I feel sick to my stomach every time I strap the pump on. It hurts. My nipples are actually black and blue. Just my shirt brushing them is torture. There were times I wanted to cry when my nipples were touched.

The cloth diapers are sometimes a pain. I try to make it seem like it’s not a big deal, but every day my hands are being stuck right in the midst of the urine and poop that disgusts me, so that I can dig that little insert out. The pail stinks. The diapers stink. I smell diaper when I walk into the house and I hate that others do too. I console myself with knowing it would smell even worse with disposables, I guess.

A Penny Saved

I’ve done it all to save money. I feel like enough of a financial drain on Ross as it is. I try to save money where I can so that occasionally I can ask to buy something for myself (like soda, some clothes, a treat or some yarn) without feeling like shit. I already feel like a child asking daddy for money whenever I would like something.

I’m tired of Ross' family asking me when I’m getting a job… and not once has he piped up to say that WE decided I’d stay home while Xander is young. The whole job thing is enough of a problem for me. It seems like with every job, I just end up discovering a new way for my hands to cause an issue. When I finally get excited about a career, I get a “We’ll see.” when I talked to him about paying for training and a whole freaking lecture on long hours and weekends from the in-laws. I just can’t win!

I worry about what I’d do if anything happened to Ross. It was enough of a concern when it was just me, but now I’d have Xander to care for too. When I mentioned having enough insurance to at least pay off the house, he was less than encouraging when he said I wouldn’t be able to keep up the bills anyway. Basically, it came across that Ross didn’t care where we ended up living. It’s not enough that we’d lose him… we’d get to lose our home too. Wonderful.

Dungeons and Dragons

DDO is the bane of my existence. It started out as a fun way for Ross to kill some time, but it has taken over. I honestly believed he’d play less once the baby came… he plays more than ever. It seems to be his only concern some days. He is constantly in a rush to get home because a quest is starting. He checks his characters or whatever more than most people check their email. I’ve had direct conversations with him while he’s playing without so much as a nod of acknowledgment that he heard me speaking. It feels far too much like DDO means more to Ross than Xander or me. I’m starting to understand why some people divorce over games like this.

I bust my ass trying to keep the house clean. I take pride in a clean home and feeling like I’m taking care of Ross in some way. I want his family to come to our home and see that I’m taking care of him… not just sitting around mooching off of him or something. It makes me angry and sad when Ross acts like I need to chill out. I know he doesn’t understand the clean freak in me, but he could at least show some support now and then.

Let's Talk Poop

He really hurt me a few weeks ago during a conversation about Xander. I remember saying something like, “We’ve been reduced to talking about poop.” He responded, “Well, at least we have something new to talk about.” Have we really already run out of things to talk about? Has talking to me really become so unbearable?

I’m angry that a lot of my fears are coming true with regards to my health. The women in my family often go through a ton of problems after having babies. I have already gone from light, short periods with no cramps to painful, heavy, longer periods. I used to be able to set a timer to them; they were so regular… 28 day cycle on the dot and always started between 8am and noon. Now, it’s so crazy that my iPhone app for tracking can’t even predict it. I dread it getting worse, but the doctor said there’s nothing wrong by medical standards so basically shut the hell up.

Sex hurts now. According to the doctor, again, there is nothing physically wrong so apparently it’s all in my head. Probably. I’m terrified of getting pregnant again. I used to really enjoy making love… now I force myself to try every so often because I know he still wants it.

Help! I'm Struggling

I hate how I look. I know it drives Ross crazy when I say that, but I can’t help how I feel. He didn’t know the thin, healthy, confident me. I want him to meet her so badly, because I’m convinced he’d love her even more than the me he knows now. I hate struggling to lose weight. I hate that I eat crap because I feel like crap and then just make the problem worse.

I feel like a huge failure as a wife and mom. Things that should be coming naturally to me just aren’t. Things that I once enjoyed are now a chore. I feel like Ross and I are already falling apart. I miss us and what we were not so long ago. I miss feeling happy. I miss being healthy.

I love my husband. I love my son. I want to love myself.