I am Getting Sucked into a Teething Vortex (and other Problems)

So, I REALLY wanted to post an update at least for james 8 month birthday and also post his 7 month one which I never did. But I haven't had time/energy. Why?

Crawling and pulling up and teething AND hand foot n mouth disease. Not to mention a bunch of other things. Which maybe would be fine, but . . .

My house is a baby death trap! Not really but we have four cats and there is fur and hair floating everywhere (not to mention animal bits that go unfound, ehhh), I have always sucked at cleaning (esp vacuuming/sweeping/mopping--th​ough I'm getting better fast) . . . not to mention that James is ripping up the floor in the kitchen, so there are bits of linoleum and god knows what else scattered everywhere . . . basically, I can't let james in hardly any spaces by himself because he is CRAWLING FAST and pulling up on EVERYTHING.

I finally MOSTLY baby-proofed my porch, so we are good out there and I can watch him there from the kitchen or laundry room, but I really want to make more of the house accessible to him so that I don't have to watch him every second. The living room is sort of okay, and our bedroom is nearly baby-proofed, but the rest of the house needs to be done.

Another problem is that he's been super fussy from teething, and he gets up SO early, awake by 5:30/6, I put him down for his first nap now (by going on a walk) before 8 am, and then he hasn't been falling asleep until like . . . 9 some nights? I feel like I have no time to myself, he's nursing so much in the middle of the night lately, I'm just exhausted.

So, even when he's napping, I'm too tired to babyproof or clean half the time. Siiigh. And when he's awake, well, I just have to watch him 24/7 because my house is a deathtrap, as I mentioned. And I won't even go into the fact that he's CONSTANTLY falling and hitting his head (with all the pulling up). I feel like an awful mother. Gah!!!

AND I also haven't had time to do any of the things that make me feel like me--blogging, going on IV, taking pictures, I just feel overwhelmed. :(

Old School Sunday: Worry

If you haven't heard about my blog series "Old School Sunday", read the back story!

And if you want, catch up on what you missed (read from the bottom up!)

In the middle of the spring semester of my sophomore year of college . . . we were newly at War in Iraq, and I am working my butt off to try to pay for school, books, and life . . .

23rd March 2003
3:47pm
Current Mood: depressed

I worry a lot. Sometimes it seems like the only thing I do. It hold me captive, immobile. I can't move. I can't think. I can't act. I just worry. I check the amount of my next paycheck everyday.

In Which I hide my Anxiety Behind a Facade of Carefree

James was 10 weeks on Friday. This felt like a victory to me, because weeks 8-10 is the peak time for SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome).

I feel like since I got pregnant I've been anticipating disaster--maybe it's an infertility thing--after taking three years to get pregnant, and suffering repeated early pregnancy loss (something like 7 chemical pregnancies and 1 miscarriage), it's just so hard to believe this is really it. And you'd think I'd have gotten over it when:

-I hit the first trimester (13 weeks gestation), or
-When I passed viability (24 weeks gestation), or
-When James was full-term (37 weeks gestation), or, say
-When he was born

And it's true that each of these milestones brought relief, but then I was just worried about:

-Late term miscarriage, or
-Premature birth, or
-Stillbirth, and, now,
-SIDS

In fact, I still feel like I am guarding my heart, trying not to get too attached (though I obviously am, anyway). I am still thinking that something could go wrong, and I want to be prepared for it.

Sometimes I feel like I can't picture him being 3 or 5 or something and I wonder if that means something--even though other times, I do picture him being older . . .

I was starting to feel a bit more confident that "this was really it" when James was around a month old--we had made it through the birth and he seemed to get more lively and personable every day. But my fear was reignited when we heard at my Midwife's Christmas party that one of her clients had "lost" her baby at 3 months old. I don't know if it was SIDS, I couldn't ask--it was obviously very painful for my midwife. But it was still so so awful to think about.

So of course in order to make myself feel better, I researched.

For back-sleepers (or since the Back to Sleep initiative got good hold), the incidence of SIDS is about 1/2000. And there are many things one can do to further reduce the risk: Not smoke, breastfeed, maintain a safe sleeping environment (firm mattress, no pillows or blankets), sleeping in the same room as the baby, etc.

SIDS peaks between weeks 8-10, and then the risk falls to zero at one year.

So it did help me to read about this--to note that statistically, it is very rare, and that I am doing everything I can to reduce the risk. Of course, when I did this research, James was about 6-7 weeks old, so I've been on pins and needles--checking him compulsively when he is sleeping in another room . . .

Sometimes in the evening when we are downstairs and James is already asleep for the night upstairs, James (the hubby) will go to check on him. My heart pounds until he returns, or better yet, calls down that he is fine. Sometimes he takes too long, and my mind jumps to scenarios--if the baby was gray and not breathing, what would James do? Would he scream? Would he yell at me to call 911? Would he grab James and shake him?

It is just awful. I'm definitely anxious by nature so I'm used to these patterns of thought, but I can tell you right now that I won't really relax until he is a year old.

It's funny, too, because in other ways I am so nonchalant. I don't have any issue with people holding him, I didn't worry about his neck when he was a bobble-head, I'm not scared of him rolling off of the couch, getting scratched, etc. But apparently I'm just spending up all my worry on the rare but awful scenarios instead . . .

Sigh.