Was going to do so many posts on how well I've been doing lately. Hadn't been feeling oppressed, I laughed, smiled, everything was good. Then suddenly around the same time every evening I would crash and the gloom would settle upon me. Now today I feel the same way I did before; been feeling gloomy and morose all day long. Still, I feel that some progress has been made and some is better than none. On a somewhat comforting level I've been reading about other moms who've experienced been through PPD too so I know, and always knew, that I'm not alone in this. The only way my situation differs is that I'm alone in this. I've no husband to lean on, no support system established, no one to really relieve me when I feel that it's just too much for me to handle I'm one step away from destruction. Nope. I'm just flying solo. But just as the time period after I'd had Jaalyn, I'll make it through. Each day I know I'm stronger and that much closer to the end of it. I constantly remind myself that this is a temporary thing, it's finite. Like labor pains, those bad boys hurt like a motherfucker but a laboring mom has to keep in mind that no matter how bad it gets, it does end. No one ever labored forever. This too shall pass.



In the meantime I've been absorbing myself with past hobbies and obsessions. I'm making progress again with my genealogy research and I'm thrilled. I'm taking more of an interest in my house other than the God-I-want-to-toss-every-damned-thing-into-the-street-and-start-over approach. I want to make my home my refuge and hopefully with the help of a careful layaway plan and my Ikea obsession I can do just that. The way I figure it, I need to begin anew with a clean slate (this is the same approach I took when I pulled out of my depression after having Jaalyn). I've got to clean house, not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. Should be fun... root canal fun.

Speaking of fun in a fucked up fashion, Trinity had her 2 month check up today. All the nurses reconfirmed what I already knew: baby daddy and I create the most gorgeous children EVAH. She's 10lb, 5 oz and I have no idea how long. I just know she's in the 25th percentile for length, 50th for weight and 50th for head circumference. Doc says I have good milk apparently because Trinity has already started to roll over from back to tummy and of course that means she's a genius (her words, honest). I did get fussed at for not taking care of myself, meaning I need more than a pop tart and three bites of food to sustain my life form. Another big forehead slapping DUH for me because my stupid ass had been wondering why my milk supply seemed to be decreasing. On the plus side, Trinity's eczema is getting much, much better. The stitch that had been poking through her belly button was yanked out by the pediatric surgeon yesterday. And she got 4 shots, that's right FOUR, in those meaty thighs this morning.



Proof that the day's events are too much for the little one. Can we say stressed?