getting honest >> the crazies

i like to write a weekly post, usually on sundays, where i capture the week's events with our sweet boy. how much i love him. what i've learned about him. myself. this new life. one thing i haven't written much about is the god's honest truth about this transition. so much about this transition hits me months after the fact. you know, like the fact i pretty much have lost my marbles on a number of occasions since giving birth. and yes, even after losing my shit, i'm still married. my husband still loves me. i think. 

on wyatt's 6th day of life, i was your text book "i just had a baby, don't judge me, i'm absolutely nuts" chick. we'd had visitors every day and the only time ty and i had really shared just the two of us was during the middle of the night feedings. awesome. up until about wyatt's third day of life, those "feedings" were absolute hell. it was such a struggle to get wyatt to latch on those first 2 weeks. it was such an ordeal. an absolute cluster. when i first started, i didn't really have much to compare it to - other than those annoying breastfeeding videos that show a new mom in a silky nightgown gracefully feeding her baby while laying on her side taking a snooze. that was absolutely 100% not me. i was the sweaty, frizzy haired new mom taking deep breaths, trying her absolute best to not burst into tears as i tried the football position, then the cradle position, then the hang your baby upside down position... back to football again, only to end up trying the cradle position. (i was only kidding on the upside down baby position. that said, i would have tried anything that would have worked back then!) on that 6th day, i pretty much hit a wall. my milk came in on day 3 and by day 6 i was a wreck. annie stopped over with her sweet SIL and ali du right as my marbles not only spilled on the floor, they broke into a million pieces onto the floor and then inside the marbles were more marbles that broke all over the floor. i've never been that much of a wreck in my life. i couldn't get wyatt to latch. i felt like i was failing as a mom. i could barely talk. annie was there right when i needed her. as usual. she sat on the edge of my bed as i sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. rubbed my leg and reminded me that all of this was so brand new to me - my body had been through so much, it was normal to be overwhelmed, i was doing an amazing job, that she understood how i was feeling, that it would get better. that it was OK to feel the way i was. she was right.

when wyatt was probably 8 days old, i lost my damn marbles again. it was monday. i laid down to take a nap and had laid wyatt down in his vibrating pack n' play bed thingy ma jig (pic above is actually from that very moment i believe). ty worked on his expense reports down stairs. when i woke up ty was gone. he didn't tell me where he was going. i texted him and he wrote back and said he had run to the post office and then was going to the gym. totally fine. um, ya. no. not that day. when he got home i gave him the silent treatment (mature) while my mom and annie were visiting. when they left i lost it. again. told him i couldn't believe he would "sneak out" like that. did he not want to be with us? was he trying to escape from this new life? was he not happy? i clearly remember the words coming out of my mouth: "i felt like you snuck out today. like you were escaping from us. do you not want to be here?!" i knew i was crazy. as i was talking, my brain was telling me "you are a freaking lunatic" but looking back now, the poor guy definitely didn't want to be there with this lady he barely knew, eff-ed up in the head chick that looked like his wife, but definitely was someone else. (please note, ty left without waking me up because i was going off about 90 minutes of sleep over the course of a 5 day period.)

something similar happened about a month later when he got home from work and wanted to go next door. i remember just yelling at him to apologize to me. he didn't know what to apologize for and i quickly spiraled out of control.

you get the jist.

crazy things happen to you when you have a baby. and as they are happening you feel yourself leaving your body. you feel words leave your mouth and you know you are losing your mind that very moment. but you can't stop. "it's the hormones" -- that's what everyone tells you.

so how do we explain this morning then?

ty washed a shirt of mine last night. a white shirt of mine. a $68 piece of cotton my grandma could have probably made if we're really being honest. he washed it with colors. in hot. he dried it on high. shit losing begins in 5, 4, 3, 2, and...

1. it's 6am, and i'm standing at the end of our bed while ty sleeps. i'm flailing the shirt around telling him how mad i am at him for washing my shirt. "DO NOT wash my clothes!"

good morning.

still crazy.

not sure how long these crazy hormones stick around, but i can tell you one thing. i think i might owe someone an aopogy when they get home.

perhaps for the last 6 months worth of crazy sightings.