Yes, it is still raining and it is cold today but can you see the skip in my step and hear the song in my heart? Cars got into full-day kindergarten and I am so excited! I know others might be mourning the fact that their babies are off to kindergarten and I have heard several people tell me that they don't want to send their kids full-day so they can enjoy the last little bit of time with them before they are in school all day long.
Not me.
This is of course about me and not about him at all. I am probably a little closer to him than to the other two because I have had more one-on-one time with him than I was able to have with the other two. But, I am ready for some time for me.
It all sounds so very selfish, doesn't it? "Me time". I am ready for me time. I am ready to become me again.
Long time readers will know where I was when I started this blahg. For those who do not know, after Cars was born, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. His birth was not easy - sure it seemed like a routine c-section and I had already had two so what was one more, right? However, during the surgery I felt as though I was burning up. I kept telling the anaesthesiologist that I was hot and he kept reassuring me that my body temperature was normal. I did not feel right. When we had walked into the operating room, we were down to two name - Cars and Cam. As soon as he was born, Stephen said he thought Cars was the right name. I was still leaning towards Cam but thought why not Cars since I am going to die right here on the operating table, Stephen might as well pick the name.
After I was back in my room, I still did not feel right. Stephen was pushing for Ez for Cars' middle name and again, I thought sure why not since I am going to die, Stephen might as well get what he wants because he will have to raise all three kids alone. These thoughts were so real and are (surprisingly) still so vivid.
The nurse removed my catheter but I was still not able to use pee (OK, TMI alert so skip if you want). I was told to try running the water, use warm water, and just be patient but I still could not urinate though the need and urge was there. All of those IV fluids they had pumped into me and I could not go! Finally, after yet another unsuccessful trip to the bathroom, I walked out and looked at the nurse who turned to talk to me and I thought "Why can't I hear her?" and I fainted. The last thing I saw was the panic on Stephen's face as he was holding Cars and on the telephone. He dropped the phone to try to catch me. Anyway, an ultrasound on my bladder showed that it was very, very full (nearly a litre). A catheter was quickly reinserted. The next day, it was removed again and I was fine.
The second thing in the hospital was that I noticed that Cars spit up an awful lot. I was on a bland diet due to the c-section but for some reason rather than just jello and juice, I was given ice cream and I did eat a lot of it. I don't know how I knew but I knew that Cars was allergic to milk while I was still in the hospital. I of course was very paranoid about him being allergic to peanuts but I was floored and overwhelmed about the milk allergy because it is in almost everything.
So, I cut milk out of my diet, including ice cream (which to this day I very seldom eat). About a month after he was born, school started and we had Jax in afternoon kindergarten and Dex in morning preschool. We lived in the car. I would pick Dex up from school (after maneuvering through the pot-hole ridden too-small parking lot and down the way too crowded hallway of the preschool with an infant and a kindergartener in tow), rush in the car to try to get Jax on the school bus. If we missed the bus (which was more often than not), I would either drive to Ash's house to have Jax get on the bus there with Gav or else drive to the school and wait around for 20 minutes or so for the bus to arrive. Oh yeah, during that time I had to feed Jax his lunch (before getting Dex), Dex his lunch (while we were in the car) and usually stop somewhere to nurse Cars. And the whole time, I would tell people that the transition from two to three kids was so easy. It was as long as I did not have to do anything but feed and diaper a baby. It kept getting harder when was awake longer and longer each day. Then only easy part of it was that Jax and Dex had each other and did not need me to entertain them.
At almost exactly three months after Cars was born, I realized I was in trouble. I had no motivation to do anything. I would feed and clothe my kids and myself but that was about it. Oh, I could still do laundry because I had to. Having a child who would go through 5-6 sets of clothing plus the umpteen number of bibs and cloths from spitting up made for tons of loads of laundry. I would count the minutes at the end of the day until Stephen would get home. And while co-sleeping always seemed so easy, it really does not lend itself towards quality sleep. I was falling apart and each night, I would dread the next day and all of the running about we had to do doing.
In December, we hired Nanny to come once a week for four hours. I no longer had to take Jax and Dex with me when I went shopping for groceries. I rarely stayed gone the four hours because Cars would not take a bottle and often needed to be fed right when I got back.
I remember the second or third week when Nanny was there, I was driving along on my way to Fred Meyer to shop when I had a feeling that I could not stop the car. I was paralyzed and was convinced that I would be physically unable to stop the car if I hit a red light. I was terrified. Fortunately, I hit every green light on the way to Fred Meyer but I knew then that I needed more than just Nanny help. I called my OB for help and was prescribed Zoloft and given a list of three counselors to call.
Stephen and I had plans for him to take his month paternity leave the next summer but I told him he had to take it NOW. This was in December but he had deliverables and we were not able to schedule his time off until
February. Stephen also thought it was his duty to take it all on but that just made for a lot of tension between us.
Anyway, I started seeing my Crazy Doctor, did not take any meds because I was too afraid (of what? addiction to Zoloft? being out of control?). Anyway, in retrospect, I know if I had taken the meds I could have made my life a whole lot easier. It would have helped regular my brain chemistry much sooner than waiting for it to happen on its own. After two years, Crazy Doctor and I figured I was cured and we parted ways.
So, after my trip to crazy and back, as well as all of the issues like the stress of driving across bridges over water and peanuts and 504 plans and walnuts and pecans and tics and milk allergies and should I grow out my grey hair and I grew out my grey hair and anxiety and moving and worry and stuff, I am ready for me time. No more running around to pick kids up after these short two and half hour stints in preschool or 1/2 day K. I have plans for this coming school year to do things for me. I am lucky that I do not have the kind of husband who insists that I find a job now that all kids will be in school and I am very fortunate that we do not need for me to be working (although extra money would always be helpful - have you seen the price of gas?!).
Cars got into full-day kindergarten. I am one happy Pez.
