Foggy headed mumma

Goodness this is hard work. I really wonder how on earth I managed when I had a newborn and 3 under 6 years old and. Business to run. I must have had a damn site more energy than I do now, anyway. Thankfully, with Max at home doing everything else, I can at least just focus on Ben and my own sanity, although that is perilously close to the edges at times. I’ve just about got to the pint where I believe he is here, I’ve not quite reached the int where I believe he’s here to stay. When I thought about it, this is no great surprise I suppose. I always thought of babies and humans as largely robust but once you’ve sat and watched a baby fade away to nothing and no one has been able to stop it, well, it shakes your faith in that a bit.

And that was as far I got last night. Trying to make sure all and everyone gets enough time isn’t leaving space for blogging. That’s probably the right balance. I’m not sure how much blogging I did after Josie, but I don’t suppose it was much.

Today I have just been hit by a huge wave of sad. I think it was coming through the week. Yesterday I met a friend and we remarked that we would try to get thought the rest of life without thinking at.all. And the minute I said it, I new that was what I was trying to do.

I’m trying to pretend Freddie never happened. Sometimes I even try to pretend that we are really just in the coming home bit of 2010 and it was all pretend. I don’t want there to be two boys but only one in the house, I really don’t. I’m not sure I can live with that all my life. This all feels too big and to huge and I don’t see why it had to happen to me and to us. All of it. Weird illnesses and oddness. Dead babies. Accidental disasters. Terrifying births. Perfect births that bring dying babies. Why couldn’t we just have had ordinary nice and easy births and ordinary nice and easy babies and the right number of children in the house.

I’m trying to recapture the elation I must have felt when Ben was born. I’m perfectly happy with how he was born although I am missing that personal and physical sense of superwoman achievement that Natural birth brings. It’s a big thing to lose that, I notice it every time. But at least it doesnt have anger in its place this time, which is a big deal. The last 5 weeks though have just been so filled with worry and anxiety about him that I feel a tiny bit cheated. That’s not his fault, or my fault, or anyone’s fault. Oh for a simpler time when I thought babies were just born and lived.

Today I just feel blue. Lost without Freddie and a little lost because the end of being pregnant, which couldn’t come soon enough, was over so much sooner than even I expected. Lost because Ben still mostly sleeps and I miss him a little and I’m finding sleeping baby I don’t quite believe is well very triggery. I feel rather inadequate because feeding him has proved hard and I feel bad that I can’t just magically make it easy for him and make him grow big and strong and comfortable. I’m tired and drained and a bit disappointed in myself and my body isn’t healed and that can’t be helping and … Oh. All that.

It has just been such a hard 23 months. And then Freddie’s pregnancy before that. And the 9 months conceiving him. And the 3 hideous years before that. And a long time with a business and 4 home educated children. Suddenly I can see 6 years has gone by and I’ve missed it while I was caught up in a process and they’ve grown up and I can’t get that time back. I can’t get my head around everything that has gone on and how we’re here, at the end of one bit and the beginning of another with so much to be grateful for and so much to mourn. But so much to be happy about. And so much sad. I’m desperate to get on and reclaim some of that superwoman and be out and about and doing stuff again.

I think I need to just go and look at a baby.

He’s very cute.