Persephone: Parent

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For the past two weeks I’ve withdrawn myself from the outside world a little bit for a number of reasons and I’m wondering if it’s wrong.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

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Finding the Old Me

I’ve been having some sociable problems recently. I’ve been upset at baby groups that I love, considering stopping attending to try and feel better. I’ve been struggling with doing too much with hubby back at work and with simply missing him (not missing his help or him giving me a break, actually missing him) and I’ve started to want to hide away at home.

Okay the storms probably aren’t helping.

But I seem to have lost my confidence.

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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.

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Introducing Stinky and Smelly

Years and years and years ago, a random co-worker rescued me from heartbreak in a way that no other friend could at that point. In the space of 12 months, for different reasons I lost my dad, my best friend, my brother and my boyfriend. But I gained her.

Somehow we started calling each other Stinky and Smelly. Neither of us know who’s who. We both call each other either name. We also call each other Batman and Robin. Oh, and she calls me her bitch.

We quickly developed a little ritual.

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Left Out

I was at a baby group today where the worst thing ever happened.

It has me second guessing myself, worrying about what I did.

Maybe it’s just my hormones. It probably is, but today I got left out.

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Needing… Something

I’m having a bad few days. I’m sure it’s a combination of many little things. I know I should try and think on the positive, but it just doesn’t seem to be helping.

Hubby’s back at work. Elvis is on his second day of being a bit clingy, crying easier than usual. I feel like I’m losing or have lost most of my old friends and those that are still around don’t want to be. My nose is constantly running. I’m awake half the night coughing my lungs up. I have no idea what’s wrong with E, possibly he’s having separation anxiety from his Daddy? I tried to talk to friends about him being back at work, received comments implying I’m lucky to have had him. Only new mummy friends have really had any sympathy.

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To Clique or Not to Clique

Firstly I hate it when clique gets mistaken for click. Hate. It.

Secondly, I think the word itself is often mis-used. I’m pretty sure I’ve mis-used it too.

There are some local facebook mummy groups that I sometimes find helpful, sometimes annoying and sometimes boring. Over the past few days mummy and baby groups with their clique-ness have been bitched about to high heaven.

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Friendships: Can There Be Too Many?

Personally, I’ve found the past 8 months of my life to be accompanied by an explosion in the number of friends I have. In fact I noticed earlier that my facebook friend list has almost doubled, and I’m not one to really add random people. Before Elvis and baby groups arrived I didn’t have old school friends with whom I never spoke. I had family, friends and people I’ve met on holiday.

Truthfully, about 5 people were friends, friends in the sense of I saw them regularly and give them Christmas presents.

Is that too few a number?
Is my rapid influx of friends a negative? Or a positive?

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Merry Christmas?

When Elvis was about 4 weeks old, I took him to a gathering of friends to show him off. I was still exhausted all of the time and we were still struggling. Talking to my friends I did happen to say that it was all far harder than I had ever thought being a parent would be.

Someone replied: Well, it’s what you wanted.

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Will it Always Be

I’ve said before that I think I’ll always consider myself fertility challenged and that until I reach the elusive Other Side, I could end up right back in the Trenches with all those others TTC.

I’d like to think that, all being well with Elvis, if I ever wanted a second I’d never liken that inevitable heartache with the 3 years I suffered and what those still TTC their first go through. They’re sure to be similar, both wanting something far outside of your reach, but they’re also world’s apart.

With a little over 2 weeks until my EDD it’s still all so uncertain. I could still lose everything and have my desperate run for life be shot down at the final hurdle. I honestly thought things would get better, that I’d stop feeling like this when I got pregnant because I was/am lucky enough to have conceived with assistance. Naively I knew that I’d never stop feeling infertile but I hoped it’d feel better.

It doesn’t feel better.

Despite feeling a 37 week Elvis kicking me I still feel like crap when someone else gets pregnant, when someone else is lucky enough to skip over all the pain and heartache I went through. I don’t hate them, not like I used to, but I still can’t deal with them.

Will it always be like this? Or will Elvis heal it all? How can I stop all of this coming between me, my family and my friends?

~ Persephone M

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