I've been having trouble finding inspiration for blog posts lately, hence my absence. I've also been trying to make sleep a priority - you know, actually listen to the common advice to sleep when the baby sleeps. She's sleeping right now, at least I think she is. After 45 minutes of trying to get her down for a nap, I gave up. I set her in the crib, shoved the pacifier in her mouth and decided we'd cry it out. But she hasn't cried yet. And I'm filled with too much anxiety to sleep, so I'm gonna try to bust out a blog post.
Addison is more fussy than I ever imagined a baby could be. I knew having a newborn was going to be hard, but I never thought it would be this hard. Her gas and her stomach pains absolutely rule this household. It's impossible to establish a bedtime routine because we spend four hours or more each night trying to help her relieve the pain. She rarely gets to sleep before midnight. Each day that goes by that we can't start sleep training, the more my anxiety builds, dreading how difficult it's going to be when the time comes. We rock her to sleep and I nurse her back to sleep because those are the only things that work, and I have no idea how to break away from those habits. I cannot sit by and let her cry it out when I know she's crying because of gas pains.
Each night when we get her down to sleep, I lay awake on the verge of a panic attack because I know she's just going to wake up in half an hour. If the monitor is on, I listen and wait for her cries, and I can't fall asleep. If the monitor is off, I think every noise I hear is her cry, so I can't fall asleep. This is resulting in me getting around three to four hours of sleep a night, regardless of how much she sleeps. Matt keeps pushing me to let someone watch her overnight, but I simply cannot pass that burden on to someone else.
In response to my building anxiety, I activated my depression cycle, which goes a little something like this: cover up the anxiety with emotional binge eating, feel sluggish and bloated, get upset about how I can't control my eating, withdraw from life because I feel the ugliest I've ever felt and don't want anyone to see me, get depressed because I have withdrawn from life even though I know what the problem is and how to fix it, get more depressed every day that goes by that I don't stop the cycle because I feel more and more worthless. I think these cycles usually last a couple of months. But this time, I knew I needed to reach out for help, because I can't fight depression while taking care of Addison. There's just not enough energy to go around. I started taking an anti-depressant five days ago. It takes a couple of weeks to begin to feel the effects, so I can't report any changes yet. Here's to hoping it will help me better cope with the stress, because Addison deserves better than a basketcase for a mother.