Persephone: Parent

A fine WordPress.com site

CBT: Session Four – I Can Read Your Mind #PND

The fourth therapy session was the first one after a huge break over Christmas. During this gap, not only had Robin started sleeping through the night and dropping her morning feed (only two feeds a day left), but she had started going to bed really easily (quick feed and then done) so I’d started reintroducing things to my life and, unlike previous attempts, had begun to enjoy them. I guess it was part of the depression, the constant thought of “what’s the point?” What was the point in trying to do aerobics or go jogging at bedtime, she’d still be screaming? Why bother getting up early to do it, I’m too tired anyway? I don’t want to read a book, I want to veg out on the sofa and watch TV, get bored and eat junk food. Everything had seemed so hard, so hard to motivate myself to do and so hard to wrangle the family to allow me to. But that had started to change over the Christmas period, with a cinema outing and date with my mum, going out for drinks with a friend – no children in sight, taking the time to exercise, trying to get my diet in order and using calm, quiet times to read my book so that I finally got interested in it. I’d never seen that as part of the depression, but it was.

In the fourth session, we learnt about negative automatic thoughts (yep, I know them very well) and what type of thinking you do. I’m a black and white generaliser who can read minds and plays more on the negative than the positive.

Read the rest of this entry »

Advertisements
Leave a comment »

#getoffthesofa

I think I decided to start getting off the sofa just after Easter (probably with the thought that I’d start it properly once all of that chocolate was gone. Ha!) And I think I posted about having an April’s Resolution, well here I am a month later.

I’ve definitely been more active in the past month. Partly with help from some Mummies from my local breastfeeding group – the group isn’t on over Easter so we went walking instead. Since then the 4 mornings that Elvis is at nursery I go for a walk and Robin falls asleep in the pram. I think it’s getting her into a bit of a routine. A bit.

I have bought chocolate and cakes since I started my resolution but they’ve always been my weakness. Because, yes, the goal is to be healthier and help shift some of my pregnancy tum but it’s also just to get me out of the house.

With Elvis I could leave the house whenever I wanted. Go for a walk. Wander around the shops. He napped every morning at half 9 and evening at half 4 in the pushchair because I went out. It’s probably why I was far less achey with him. I don’t have that luxury now.

With Robin, she has to be in the pushchair 1230-1330 for the nursery run. Then for the rest of the afternoon I can’t go out as Elvis naps upstairs. It’s frowned upon. So mornings are for walking.

And it certainly is the weather for it. Hopefully once Robin manages to be put down for her naps (oh help me God, let her sleep in her bed during the day) then the snack food eating will stop. I only do it because I get so bored and lonely rocking her in the nursing chair.

Technically it should be #getoffthenursingchair as she won’t actually let me sit on the sofa.

Here are April’s stats:
Clothes – still in maternity trousers. My size 16 do fit bit underneath my wobbly jiggly bits. In all of my nursing tops from before.
Weight to lose – I started this wanting to lose 20kg. I still have 20kg to lose.
Aches and Pains – I have general relaxin based joint pains and my shoulders/neck hurt from spending so much time rocking in the nursing chair.

Now on with May!

Leave a comment »

Coming Clean – Mummy Struggles

This blog is not what it was. When Elvis was newborn, when I was struggling so hard in the early months, I blogged and tweeted all of the time to try and cope with it. I don’t know what this blog is anymore, but it isn’t that.

I’m struggling.

The past 4 nights, Baby Robin has cried, screamed from 7-9. She cried everytime she’s tired and needs to go to sleep. She won’t take a dummy. She won’t nurse to sleep. She screams when I rock her. She screams when I put her in the pushchair for sleep. This screaming for sleep is all the time. All. The. Time. But after 7pm it’s Hell.

The past 4 nights, from 7-9 I’ve pretty much cried constantly.

I can’t handle it anymore.

She only sleeps on me during the day. She wakes as soon as she’s put down. She has no routine. She needs to nap at tea time when I’m trying to feed Elvis and SHE ONLY NAPS ON A PARENT!

I spend my day trying to get her to sleep and SHE SCREAMS.

It’s too draining now.

It all feels so hard when I know things are better, easier than they were. It feels so hard to me.

How do I get her to sleep that final nap when I have Elvis?

How do I get her to sleep for long enough independently?

How do I get her into a routine when Elvis already has one and she wants something different?

How can I do what she needs when it contradicts what Elvis needs?

Every time she’s screaming I feel like everyone nearby is wondering what I’m doing wrong. If I’m home alone, I think my neighbours are thinking I’m rubbish. That I’m a bad mother.

Why can’t I stop her screaming? I’m her mother and I should be able to.

How the fuck do I stop crying?

~ P

5 Comments »

Congratulations! You Cease To Exist

A.K.A Grandparents think they’re far too important!

I am so going to get into trouble for this post! I got a text a while ago announcing a birth. It reads: Hi just to let you know Baby Blah Blah was born this morning. Mum is battered and bruised but my new grand daughter is worth it xxx

Oviously the baby was not named Blah Blah. No, first off, I found it very impersonal that the new babba’s Grand mother did the announcing. I don’t believe that it is a Grand parent’s prerogative to do this, although, perhaps she was tasked with this by both parents. It was my husband’s job, not my mother’s. But that’s me and my family.

Secondly, I found the message hugely disrespectful to the mum in question. Now maybe that is simply because I have had such an issue with identity since becoming a mother. From before Elvis was even born, my mother insisted every other day that no one would want to visit me, they were all coming to see Elvis. No one would care how I was coping or processing things, everyone would want to hold Elvis, know how he was doing. I would, according to her, cease to exist. What even to my husband and own mother? How can I cease to exist when I was, at that point, the person who had just had major surgery and was the most important person to that little baby?

So, perhaps due to my own issues, I find the comment that “my new grand daughter is worth it” almost revolting. Really I do. First off, what exactly did you do in getting the grand daughter? Wait outside in a waiting room, or back at home. Did you get battered and bruised? Maybe you did 30 years ago, but do you want the world to know that? Meanwhile, how does your daughter feel? Oh, you’re in pain, never mind you have a daughter now and I’ll shout it all to the world.

People have to stop only seeing the baby in a birth. People have to stop telling mums to get over the birth because all that matters is the baby that they have. People have to stop only wanting to see the new baby. People have to stop deciding that they are more important than a parent.

I think Elvis’ grandparents had an issue with me breastfeeding him. I had one grandparent ask me if I was breastfeeding purely to lose weight. I had another, after we’d started weaning him, declare as they fed him spoons of yoghurt “see, mummy’s not the only one who can feed you”. Do some grandparents think that their grandchild is a do over? Do they think they are as important, have as many rights as the parents? Why did we have some grandparents race across the country to meet their grandson and then never send a Christmas or Birthday card to him?

I can remember one hot August day last year when Elvis was still under 3 months old and we were too far from home when he got hungry/thirsty and would not stop screaming in his pushchair and I started to get really upset, walking as fast as possible to get him home and my mum, in the way she does, spoke to him as if he understood completely and said “You’re upsetting my daughter.” And I remember thinking, yes, I am still your daughter. I am not just the person who gave you a grandchild. I am still me. I will always be me and sometimes, selfishly, I want everything to be about me.

And that poor other new mum, in her battered and bruised state, was completely overlooked on the day that she did one of the hardest things a woman a can do, a day that can be one of the most amazing days in a person’s life, was ignored. Sure, that child becomes the most important person in the parents’ lives, but you still have to consider each other and others. And, as a grandparent, if you annoy the parents, you can be written out of the story.

Have you ever felt pushed out of your own family by others?

~ P

Leave a comment »

Reconnecting With Myself

For the past two weeks I’ve withdrawn myself from the outside world a little bit for a number of reasons and I’m wondering if it’s wrong.

Over the past 10 months (9.5 to be exact), I’ve felt under a lot of pressure to do right by everyone socially speaking and I now no longer know if I’m putting myself too high. Or Elvis too low.

Read the rest of this entry »

1 Comment »

Bad Days!

I’m not sure if it’s my constant headache, my full days to fill in for hubby being back at work, the constant streaming nose, the extra energy looking after Elvis alone all day or something completely irrelevant, but I’ve been having a bad few days.

It culminated the other day when everything in my local bank just kept going wrong. It would have been a comedy if it weren’t my life! And it resulted in me walking along, crying in the pouring rain pushing E along. I looked so desperate that some random man tried to stop me to help.

Read the rest of this entry »

Leave a comment »

A leads to B leads to C leads to…

A, obviously.

This time last week it was the calm before the storm; the sickness and diarrhoea storm!

It hasn’t been a good week. Early Sunday morning, and then in the afternoon, I found Elvis asleep in his own vomit. It’s heart-wrenching, wondering how long ago he vomited and how awful a mum that makes me (it doesn’t, I can’t watch him every single second. I need to sleep).

Read the rest of this entry »

Leave a comment »

A Question of Etiquette

Sometimes a random comment made by someone or yourself, directly or indirectly or simply overheard can make you do a double-check. Or flush with embarrassment. Or even perhaps start simmering with anger.

Have you ever ended up, hours later, questioning your own or their etiquette?

Read the rest of this entry »

Leave a comment »

Driving Away in A Big Black Cab

Okay so actually the taxi wasn’t black.

It wasn’t a big taxi cab either, just a regular taxi. And it did drive me away last night.

At 10pm, after Elvis’ dream feed, I called a taxi and left.

Read the rest of this entry »

Leave a comment »

My Birth Story

I probably have mentioned some of the ins and outs of my labour, I’m not sure quite how much, but there are a few things that I’m sure I haven’t put down in words.

Surprisingly there’s some facts surrounding my birth story that I actually spoke about to a real person about before putting it down electronically.

And I don’t mean all the gory details. Nope, I mean my crazy head and my son’s existence.
Read the rest of this entry »

Leave a comment »

Baby in the Sunshine

British baby living in Dubai

Dallas Decoder

Between the Lines and Behind the Scenes of "Dallas"

ColleysWobbles

Riding the wave that is life...wobbles and all

Snot On My Jumper

...and other tales of parenthood

Scarlett and Me

Fashion and beauty for mums and their babes by Faye Jacobs

Dear Mummy Blog

The travellings of Baby Isabella

Can I Breastfeed In It?

Can I Breastfeed In It?

Motherhood - made up by me

My journey of motherhood of my daughter and how I make it all up as I go along

A new thing a day keeps the boredom away

My challenge for 2015: try something new every day for a whole year.