I’ve been struggling the last few weeks, I suspect to most that’s obvious.  But what makes the last few weeks noteworthy is that I think I’m struggling more so then I ever have since Baby MPB joined our lives.

I am thankful every single day for my little guy.  He makes me smile.  He makes me see life in a different perspective.  He makes me happy.  He is my everything.

But, I’m still struggling:

  • The childcare stuff has me anxious.
  • The adoption stuff has me preoccupied.
  • The minor home repairs we are doing just isn’t ideal timing, but it all needs to get done.
  • Heck, making time to visit friends has felt stressful not enjoyable, which is so not like me.
  • The fact that almost all of our in-real-life friends have moved away.
  • Work is feeling overwhelming, mainly because I don’t have enough time to actually work.
  • And right now I feel like the in-law visit just put me on the edge of sanity.

I booked the appointment with my counselor because I feel the tension building in side.  I feel myself withdrawing, which is always a sign that I’m struggling.  I know I need to talk about it all, I know talking will help. And then, like everything right now, she cancelled on me due to a severe illness and her assistant isn’t sure how long she is going to be away for.

Rationally, I know I’ll get through this.

Rationally, I know this is just a rough patch.

Practically I feel as though once we find a way to get our lives back under control, I’ll feel better. The crux of the problem is I just don’t know how to get things back under control and I don’t feel like there is an end in sight.

But here’s the thing, when it comes to feeling emotional/overworked/exhausted/overwhelmed, constantly remembering the rational side of everything doesn’t come easy.  At least not for me.

So, while I wait for my counselor to be well enough to return to work, I received a timely and much appreciated reminder that postpartum depression (PPD) also exists for adoptive parents.  I honestly don’t think it’s that bad yet, but I suspect its probably wise for me to be cognizant of the fact that I could experience a form of PPD.

And yet, honestly, this knowledge isn’t particularly helpful in and of itself.  I simply feel that for the time being, I just have to continue to function in survival mode to get through this rough patch.

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I Cried

I got home from a long day at work.  My in-laws are gone.  Mr. MPB had to go to an evening meeting.  So upon arriving home I promptly took Baby MPB for the evening to soak up as many snuggles and laughs as possible.

As he fell asleep, I retreated to the quiet of the living room.  The dog curled up next to me, and I began to cry.

I cried because I feel defeated from the in-laws visit.  Now that the weekend is over, with hindsight being 20/20, the hat debacle could be considered one of the best parts of the weekend.  Ya, it got worse and so did my attitude.  And surprisingly, a lot of the problems were the result of my perception that Mr. MPB was basically sitting on his butt visiting with his parents.  I was left to do EVERYTHING else.  Seriously one day went like this:

  1. 5am baby feed.
  2. 7am wake up with Baby MPB – Mr. MPB takes Baby MPB to hand him off to in-laws.
  3. Empty clean dishes from dishwasher.
  4. Spin class.  Because planned stress relief is a must for these visits.
  5. Returned home to clean up the breakfast mess that was left in the kitchen.
  6. Weedwacking
  7. Lawn mowing because snow is on its way and this is our only day available in the next 2 weeks.
  8. Cleaned up one of our gardens for the winter.
  9. Returned inside to empty the dishwasher and got in trouble for waking Baby MPB up due to the lawn mower.
  10. Take out the overfilled garbage.
  11. Had a shower because spin class and lawn mowing necessitate a shower.
  12. Went to lunch with in-laws.
  13. Returned home to put Baby MPB to bed for his nap.
  14. Made bottles and determined we were out of formula.
  15. Went to grocery store to buy more formula.
  16. Returned home to unpack groceries.
  17. Went to a self-imposed time-out because I was fuming and it was evident in my voice.  Mr. MPB did basically nothing.  He made breakfast and then proceeded to sit on the couch with his parents talking all day.  I’m sure in his mind he was keeping them out of my hair, but I simply cannot understand why my normally helpful husband wasn’t capable of taking out the garbage or emptying the dishwasher or making bottles or doing something/anything helpful.

So, today, once I was alone for the first time in a few days, I sat down and the tears began falling down my cheeks.

I cried because the visit was a dismal failure.

I cried because when I got home from a 12 hour day at work the garbage wasn’t taken out, again.

I cried because the kitchen looked like a bomb went off in it, again.

I cried because I’ve barely held my son in 4 days, except while putting him to bed.

I cried because Mr. MPB and I have barely spoken outside of text messages in 4 days.

I cried because I have to do laundry tonight – we are in dire straights when it comes to having clean clothing in the house right now.

I cried because I learned this weekend that my in-laws next visit will be 5 nights over Baby MPB’s first birthday.

I cried because I simply do not like my husband’s parents and I don’t see how that will ever change.

I cried because I am now dreading my son’s first birthday.

I cried because I feel like a doormat for 4 days whose sole purpose was to clean up after everyone else.

I cried because I have already referred to my son’s birthday as “the hell that will be Baby MPB’s birthday.”

If you like this post, please feel free to share and please click the follow button on the side or return to My Perfect Breakdown to follow my journey.

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