Archive for December, 2008

It should be known

Wednesday, December 31st, 2008

Some of you saw my last post when I originally posted it.  Before I went back in on my iPhone in the middle of a meeting and marked it as Private instead.  Some of you knew then what was going on in our lives or at least my life.  Then I chickened out.  I decided that the post was too personal and that the words proved that I was a bad parent.  The words and emotions I couldn’t express to my wife in words but can in writing were too much to be held responsible for.

Now the post is back up for everyone to read.

After talking to quite a few people it seems that the feelings I’ve had are quite common.  Pretty much everyone in a similar age range to me (and many not) have experienced the same or worse.  Others have gone through this (obviously) and lived to tell the tale.  Except they don’t tell the tale.  They never tell people how they really feel about parenting a newborn with problems.  They don’t tell a soul because they, like me, felt it would prove they were a bad parent.

But in talking to others it gives them a sort of freedom to tell us that yes, parenting for the first few months (or more depending on the persons) sucks ass.  It’s a miserable, thankless job that people without ever having raised a baby will ever understand.  And it’s apparently something that people feel the need to hide from the next wave or generation of potential parents.  Whether to hide what they feel are weaknesses or from fear of people who don’t understand.

I say to hell with that.  It should be known what it is like to care for a baby.  The reality.

That is why I reposted my previous post.  I’m not going back and editing it.  I’m not even going to re-read it.  What I wrote was a release for me and to change it would be counter-productive.  There is therapy in writing.  There is a catharsis in venting the emotions that I can never seem to properly verbalize.  I felt better after writing that post and marking it private took away from that therapy in some small way.

When Muse and I went through the birthing classes, the nurses who taught the class stressed over and over that you should never shake your child.  They said over and over again that if you get angry that you should put the baby down in a safe place and walk away and call for help.  They preached over and again about the damage that can be done to an infant when shaken violently.  And the wife and I would look at each other and roll our eyes.  We wondered what kind of horrible people could even think of doing something so monstrous?  What kind of pathetic lowlifes would do that to a baby?

Now we understand.  We have not shaken the baby (don’t go calling DFS) but we now have a better understanding of WHY some people are driven to do something like that.  The rage I have felt at something so small and defenseless is a heartbreaking thing that makes me feel like the biggest sack of shit in the universe.  But at least now I know we’re not alone.

I’ve been dealing with the baby much better since those days.  She’s going on seven weeks now and neither of us has done anything more physical than burp her more vigorously than we probably should.  We are still learning to cope but I have to be honest: It’s hard.  It’s really fucking hard.

One thing we’ve both learned is that the less sleep we get, the less stress we can take.  We’ve both experienced it on multiple occasions.  And the crappy thing about it is that sleep is the hardest thing to achieve with a baby in the house.  Sure with two parents it’s possible to take shifts but when I have to go to work and make money to pay for all the bills and formula and diapers that leaves my wife alone to deal with the baby for yet another shift.  I try and take over for her at night but if I don’t get sleep then I’m absolutely useless at work after a while.  If I lose my job then we can’t afford to live much less have a baby.

So how do single parents do it?  I can’t even begin to imagine that.

My point here is not to whine and complain and fish for sympathy comments.  I turned off comments on the previous post because I didn’t want input or sympathy.  That wasn’t the point.  It was therapy.  My point is to let other new parents or people expecting to be new parents soon know that parenting is harder than you think.  It’s much harder than your friends and family have let on.  They think they are doing you or maybe themselves a favor by not telling you the gory details but they aren’t.

I would have been much better off hearing the horror stories from people before I had to experience them first-hand.  I would have known going into those angry moments that I wasn’t alone and that it was perfectly normal.  I would have much rather known ahead of time what to expect.  So that is why I’m writing this post.  Not just for therapy for myself but as a caution to new parents.

Parenting is hard.  Taking care of a baby is unbelievably hard.  You will lose sleep.  You will miss meals.  You will become a recluse in your own home and despise the walls around you.  You will fight with your spouse over the stupidest shit.  And most importantly, you will get angry at your baby – and you will feel like the world’s biggest loser for doing so.  You will get through it.  But never – ever – expect it to be easy.

It should be known that you are not the only one who has felt that way.
That’s the point of my writing.

Where do I begin?

Thursday, December 11th, 2008

Has it really been a month since I posted last?  It seems like only a week or so ago.  Wow….

My wife has released some info on her site so I will continue here.  Our little girl was born at 8:20pm on November 8th, 2008.  She was 7 pounds and 3 ounces and 20 inches long.  Ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, a nose and a mouth that can reproduce the legendary screams of the deadly Irish banshees.

So much has happened in the past month and then again when I think about it… so little has happened to.  Our lives have completely changed just like people told us that they would but I think I misunderstood.  I took those casual mentions of life changes as anecdotal and that those changes would be a little challenging but overall they would be good.  I think those people are laughing now.

What I should have taken them as were the dire warnings that the soulless husks of parents that were speaking to me meant them to be.  How was I to know?  Having a baby isn’t just challenging.  It’s hard.  I think of all the shitty people out there who have kids (but shouldn’t) and they survive.  But I think we’re just barely skating by on the edge of sanity in our house.

Yeah we have a baby and she is beautiful.  I wouldn’t change that for the world.  But she also seems to be defective in many ways.  Not in the physically retarded category luckily but there is something seriously wrong with her and I wouldn’t be completely against floating the idea of putting her up for adoption.  Yeah I know that makes me a bad parent.  You just deal with whatever happens and that’s that.  Bullshit.

I’ve tried taking everything in stride and being calm and being the one to try and make sense of everything and not panicking at every little thing.  And you know what it has gotten me?  Bitterness from my wife and more screaming from the baby.  She’s still in pain, nothing we try helps.  And I’m not sure how much more I can take.  Neither me or the wife have slept properly in month.  Oh that’s normal, get used to it.  Fuck you.  Most babies sleep most of the time and wake up long enough to eat and shit before drifting off to blissful sleep again.  Our girl has bags under her eyes that are as pronounced as ours because she’s so gassy that she can’t sleep.

The doctor is useless. Changing from normal formula to soy seems to have caused an allergic reaction that I’m told could have caused her through to clamp shut so she can’t breathe.  Oh, no big deal says the advice of a doctor.  If that happens just take her to the emergency room.  OK, perhaps the advice should be to fucking camp out in the emergency room for the next week because if that were to happen, there is no hospital close enough to drive to save a baby that can’t breathe.  It’s impossible.  But gee, thanks for the advice.  So now she’s on a special hypo-allergenic formula that costs even more money.  Guess what?  She’s still gassy.  Yay.

After a particularly tense night a few weeks ago I spent some time in the nursery sitting next to the crib and crying and telling her everything was going to be all right and that I would do anything to keep her safe and healthy.  Now I can’t stop myself from thinking horrible things about her when she keeps screaming for no visible reasons.  I get angry at her for screaming and pushing away her bottle and spitting out her pacifier and kicking her legs when I try and change her crap filled diaper.  I always thought I would be a good Dad.  Now I’m not so sure.  I hate myself for the things I think and the way I feel and I just want things to stop.

Things are finally getting to me and my mellow, easy-going personality is shattering and the bitter, hateful, angry person that always lurks just below the surface of my skin is starting to break through.  I hate that person.  I hate him so much.  I don’t think I should be anybody’s Dad.  I feel like an asshole for even thinking such a thing.  Probably because I am one.