Lyrical Sunday - Mess

Mess:

I was a mess,

Emotions strewn like the laundry around the lounge,

the dishes undone, the rooms unswept.
I fell apart, contained only by my skin and a little voice,

the pieces of my mind abandoned on the counters and floor 

like the sheets of paper that never made it to where they went.

I was a mess,

Thoughts thrown awry, untidy even for me,

like drunken mice they gnawed away at exposed nerves

breaking little by little all sense of order.
Forgetting who I was as I forgot what I was doing,
where things went or why I was in a room.

I was a mess, 

I couldn't see myself for the mess,
I don't know if anyone did.
The new normal for me,
scattered, broken, messy
it was me.

I was a mess,
All people saw was the mess,
not the mess I was,
but the mess I let slide,
which gathered around me,
followed me.
That which I couldn't see.

I see it now captured forever,

in the photos of you as a baby.
A reminder of the mess I made of it.
I crop the photos and try to cut out the reminders,
but they are there, seared into my conscience -
I was a mess.

© 2012 Latte Junkie 

Ramblings...

My head is full of the crazy today. As the title of this post states - this is a ramble of thoughts and it probably won't make sense... I won't be upset if you don't read it :)

The sadness I feel for Sea and his family's loss is growing. I have been able to get a sitter so that I can go to the funeral. I am relieved that I can go say goodbye but I am also worried about going to a funeral for a child.

It has made me realise how lucky I am that Monkey is healthy and active. It also reminded me that Sea developed normally until a point and then the condition kicked in... As it did for at least three other children I know...

The downside of working with special needs children is that you become very aware of how easily it is to get the genetic soup mix wrong, a little bit of this, a little bit of that and ta-dah you have autism, cerebral palsy, spina bifida, Downs etc...

I spent a long time worrying that he was developing too fast or too slow in other aspects. Everything became a warning sign. I'd remember things that I had heard while teaching and it would fit with our family history. I think it made the PND worse. I was worried for him, I know the system and it never works the way it should.

I wouldn't have loved him less, but I was worried that I would fail him. I was scared I wouldn't be strong enough.

So here I sit with a happy, healthy boy and yet I still worry. Have I put him in Kindy too early. Will it hurt his confidence if I pull him out? I am right in my assesment that it is too much for him at the moment to do three afternoons. Is he just not used to being with other adults? Is the 1:10 ratio too high? Should I pull him out and wait until he's four? Do two afternoons a week? 

There are days I hate being a grownup... It seems that this may be the week for it...

TL;DR - Still sad, still worrying, still love Monkey

PND and strangers...

I met someone the other day who seemed to be in the throes of "fake it 'till you make it" as you so eloquently put it. She was smiling and talking about how well things were going but her eyes kept filling with tears. I remember something similar happening to me when I had PND... but it was the first time we'd met so I told myself to mind my own business. How do you even broach the subject with a relative stranger?

          Thanks T for bringing this up.

My take would be one of the following.

• An admission of how hard I found it... Without using the words "you're so lucky" so that there is the opportunity to for her to add how she is feeling.
• A straight out "Are you sure you're ok?"
• Or an anecdotal conversation about a friend with PND

Not sure if any of these are helpful but I think this is what I would do. Any other ideas?

I've been thinking...

Which is usually a cause of alarm for most people I know. Only this time it's not about painting the kitchen orange...

My new motto for life.  Whichever order you read the words add the word "to" and they create meaning. Live to inspire, live to create, live to laugh, create to laugh, inspire to create and so on.

It's about whether having a global life means there is a higher incidence of PND. I have four other friends who have had it (still have it) and we are all from families that are scattered across the globe. We lack close familial support, we lacked the knowledge of the NZ system, we lacked best friends who knew us well enough to know when we were in the throes of "fake it 'til you make it!" Global families make it a necessity to be outgoing and forge new friendships quicker than you would have previously. It means relying on a network that may not have much shared history or proof that you are able to pay it forward to them in the future.

I'm thinking along these lines as another friend (also from a global family) has just had her first and I am wondering if she will also fall prey to the Twilight Zone... And if there is anything I can do to help before the fact.

I'm not sure if it is possible to prevent it from hitting. I know that some women are more prone to it due to prior depressive tendencies. I know that the support you have in the early days can make or break it. Especially that from your partner. But what can I do to help other than watch for the signs? And letting her husband know what to look out for... And tell Stud1 to have a man-chat with him?

I'm a believer in letting new mums find their feet but I also want to help...

Guess it's time to sit down and think this through!

Good thing the coffee is strong this morning. I need the strength today!

One BIG regret

is the fact that I didn't buy a $2000 coffee machine when we had two salaries...


Ok, no it's not the biggest but it is up there...

My biggest regret is living on the other side of the world to our family. Both mine and Stud1's family are overseas. We live in NZ, my family is in SA, his are in the UK and France. Monkey has met one set of grandparents and one of the three uncles. He knows no different but is getting to an age where he is beginning to notice when his friends have their grandparents visit. He hasn't met my mum, not even on skype. It is hard to form a relationship with photos and a voice - for both parties.

There is gap in his life which we find hard to fill, I would love for him to have an uncle or his grandparents nearby to spoil him, take him places (when he's older) that we may not approve of and have a haven away from us. We have wonderful friends who are taking similar roles in his life but there is the subtle difference between friend and family.

It is difficult having no physical familial support to rely on. I think it was a contributor to the Twilight Zone. It highlights the isolation I felt and sometimes still feel.


Would we want to raise him in South Africa - no. Would we raise him in the UK - no. Would we raise him in France - not sure as we've never been there.

I do know that neither the UK or SA could offer Monkey the lifestyle he has now. True we can't afford trips overseas but we can afford for me to stay home and raise him. We can let him play outside and stub his toe with out fear of abduction or being branded neglectful. I know all the benefits he is receiving but I also know what he is missing out on.

It is the best choice we could make for him (and us) but it is a choice which costs us. In the wee hours of the morning, it feels like it may not have been worth it.

More from the Twilight Zone and future fears

I was thinking recently about how it used to be for me when Monkey was little. A lot of my friends are having their second baby and I am getting the peer pressure from all sides now. Even from Monkey himself. And sometimes I would like another little one but then I remind myself of the blurry first year.


It is hard to remember exactly what it was like and how it really was for me, us. It truly is all a blur to me. I can honestly say all my memories of his first year are blurred around the edges like someone used a focal tool in GIMP, it's like tunnel vision focusing on his face or Stud1's.

I remember the 10pm, 12am, 2 am , 4am, 6am feeds especially the ones when I would try to follow the advice of others and not co-sleep and feed. I remember falling asleep with him in my arms and waking up and feeling like I was a terrible mother for not knowing he'd finished feeding. It was a horrible time. I loved him but hated myself for not being able to do all the things I was supposed to be able to do and for doing those I could.

• Let him cry - he'll sort himself out in 3 days - I tried for an hour - he cried for the next 11 and I couldn't take him into his room without a panicked scream and arching back for the next two weeks.
• Don't feed him to sleep - impossible if your child won't settle any other way and the sound of him crying makes you physically ill.
• Don't co-sleep - co-sleeping was the only way I could get him to sleep for longer periods of time. To this day his nap in the day is co-sleeping
• Don't let others make you feel inadequate as a mother... Said the person who had just spent the last half an hour telling me it was all my fault that my child was not sleeping the required 18 hours a day.
• Don't let him move so much, it's not good for his joints -  he was moving all by himself, I couldn't stop him if I tried. He was happiest standing and cruising.

This self doubt and fear is what dominates when I think of what it may be like with a second child. But added to this is the fear that by managing to get through it, I will completely blur out Monkey and he will be left on the outskirts while I manage.

He doesn't deserve that and I don't know if I can find my way out of it a second time....

Coffee and Post Natal Depression (PND)

When little Monkey was born he didn't know the meaning of sleep. He was alert, happy and active. He was pretty much everything a text book newborn isn't. And that is a trend that has continued through to today.  He provides me with daily challenges which is a character trait rather than a flaw. And I, now, love that about him but back in the dark days, I could barely cope.

I have many good friends but they all have their own lives and many had babies just a few months/weeks older than Monkey. Stud1 had just gotten a promotion and had to prove himself at work. All of this is/was understandable to me (even at 3am after hourly wakes and feeds from 6pm.) But understanding it didn't help what I now can see was PND. It was what I will call my twilight zone.

But I managed...

I managed to love Monkey with all my heart which is something I will be eternally grateful for.

I managed not to smother him when he woke hourly for three months.

I managed not to shake him when he woke two hourly for five months.

I manage not to drive my car under a truck the way I wanted to so that someone (anyone) would notice that I wasn't coping.

I managed to keep my marriage alive

I managed to smile

I managed to fool everyone.

People thought I was coping, they (Stud1 included) thought I was doing a great job on three hours sleep with a baby who was moving from 3 months. I drank coffee as a reward for a good night, as a way to regain some feeling of normalcy.

But I couldn't. I felt like I was stuck in a box and no-one could hear or see me. I went to my GP who said that I needed to get more sleep otherwise I would end up losing my husband (helpful advice - yes?) but couldn't help me get that sleep. I went to the local childcare nurse and she said she would refer me to a support group. A year into my twilight zone I finally got some help. Anne will always be my hero, for letting me talk about everything for hours on end and for letting me know that I was doing a good job.

But as time went on, and I still didn't feel like myself, I saw another GP and she suggested counselling. It helped and I am finally 2 and a half years into Monkey's life feeling like myself. I can honestly say that my PND hasn't had any obvious effect on him and I am thankful for that everyday!

Now how does coffee fit into this whole drama? Other than contributing to normalcy and occasionally exacerbating insomnia?

Coffee Group 

We met by going to antenatal classes together. We started meeting in the early days so that we had some where to go to see another adult and know that they had some idea of what was going on in our lives.

After a few teething problems (lol) we are now a group of seven very different mums with seven very different two year olds and few under ones, who meet weekly (sometimes more) for a chat over a beverage of choice while our hooligans run wild.

We are seven mums who are for the most part have no family nearby, one Canadian, one American, one from up North, one from down South, one from South Africa, one whose mum has sadly passed and one who is lucky to have family living locally. We have an understanding of how it is to be mums without family support and have become a very close sisterhood because of that.

We are friends now because of our babies and coffee!