The fussy is what gets you, what gets to you, what picks at that last shred of your sanity that you swear you can hold onto so that you seem more together when you go out in public. I realize I’ve got a little bit of a license to be off my rocker. I’ve got a 5 day old infant. I’m breastfeeding. My hormones are in the process of receding to normal levels. Going to the bathroom is a bit of a challenge due to birth recovery. Day becomes night becomes day without any sort of separation. I haven’t slept in the same bed with my husband for more than 2 hours since last Monday night. So yes, I have many reasons to not be at my best. But I feel I should be able to be a little more on top of it than I am tonight.
The fussy is when you can’t stop the crying, the screaming, the pained faces…you comfort, you feed, you change, you soothe, you walk, you rock, you pacify and yet you don’t see any results. You feel like an absolute failure as a mother and this is amplified by the fact that you’re a bit sleep deprived and it’s 1am and all you want to be doing is sleeping. I’ve had one night like this so far and I’m hoping tonight’s not a repeat. I realize not every night in this new adventure will be as seamless as last night. But I don’t know if I can handle it tonight.
I’m off to hopefully grab 1 good hour of sleep before taking on the night with my son. Hoping against all hopes that tonight isn’t fussy.