I went to bed a eleven last night knowing that we have to be somewhere at eleven this morning and that the baby would have some sort of wakeful period that I'd have to deal with in the wee hours. She woke me up at 1:11aman I managed to nurse her back to sleep relatively quickly. I was awoken again at 3am & was not so lucky, she was awake until 5, and then it took me an hour to fall asleep, which I finally did by rolling over & facing Nathan because my other side is so sore from always sleeping on it to keep the baby away from him. I was asleep until 7:30 when he woke me up to tell me that I can't lay that way, so I rolled over again onto my sore side, waking the baby again. Who proceeded to wiggle & scream at me until I got up.
Then as soon as I did get up she threw up all over myself & her, and screamed at the top of her lungs while I tried to clean us up.Now she's eating & repeatedly kicking my other boob with her sharp little toenails & all I want to do is go back to bed and get some actual sleep.

I shouldn't be mad at my little family, but I am so very right now. How dare he be allowed to sleep with earplugs in on the weekends. When do I get the earplugs? And then he calls me cranky in the evenings, like... no shit I'm cranky. I'm at someones beck & call all day long. Even if I got a good nights sleep, it's fucking exhausting. No wonder I'm a little extra sensitive during the day.

So now I get to spend today with his family for his nephews birthday. Most of whom have only met Abby once on Christmas Day, I'm gunna have to act happy & shit for hours and hours while they ask stupid questions and offer advice I don't want. And I'm willing to bet that Nathan's going to wake up bitchy just because he knows he has to do this today. He may even say that he's tired from having to get up at 9:30 this morning.

Don't mind me folks, It's been a long night.

Make that "thrown up all over myself and her" twice.


Happy Superbowl.

I equate love with sex. I always have. So I think that the lack of sex in the last 4 weeks and (supposed to be) the next two is the hardest part about having a new baby. Everything else I have managed to deal with relatively well. To be patient with, to go along with taking things day by day. I get momentarily annoyed with certain facts, like the snow, for example. It's keeping me in my house for longer than I'd like to be and I don't appreciate it. It makes me dependant upon Nathan because I can't get around on my own.
But the fact that I'm not experienceing physical intimacy, I definitely notice it. It's lacking. I'm uncomfortable with how unhappy it makes me. It feels like I'm teetering on the edge and I'm about to fall off. It's something big. Abandonment. Blah blah fuckity blah. Always the same thing. But just because I've agknowledged that I know what causes it doesn't mean I have a clue which direction to go in from here.
So I spoke a bit to the health nurse, and she's setting up some counselling appointments for me. I'll leave Abigail with my mom for an hour or so and go spill my guts to some shrink or other for a minimal fee, and they'll nod and ho and hum and tell me that I'm well adjusted and here are some things that you could work on and that other peoples actions do not define us as people as much as they may hurt and that there's nothing that we can do but deal with how they make us feel because in the end it's the otehr people's shit that makes sthem make your life miserable.
I know all that. But how do you fix the holes your parents leave behind? And by parents I mean one. singular.
Every personal relationship I've ever had in a romantic sense involving a man has left me bewlidered and confused, and half the time feeling more alone than I did when I was alone, but then I'm only ever alone for a week at a time so how would I know?
The first one was so incredibly fucked up I'd be kidding myself to say that it didn't have a lasting effect on me and the way I see myself. I was the companion who he used for some physical gratufication and emotional stability, only to deny it bold faced when asked later on... and I remained stupid enough to let it continue for something like four years, while he used sxomeone else I cared about as a sort of trophy wife.
I'm still not sure in the end what repricussions the pain he caused has. To either me or the other one he used.
I do know though that I allowed myself to be walked all over just for a taste of love for a second when the two of us were alone.
I allowed myself to believe that that was all I was worth. That obviously no one could love me in the open, so I could hide in the shadows and take what I could get.

Now I'm well adjusted enough to know that his behaviour was wrong and borderline sociopathic, but still I believe that I am undesireable. Unfufilling. That the one person I love most in the world (besides the person we made together) would rather have someone more appealing to look at, and to show to his friends.
My self worth is calculated by sex. And we're not having any.
And he doesn't even seem to miss it.

He's probably just keeping it to himself so that he doesn't feel like he's pressuring me into something I have no control over, that it would be pointless to express an interest. But the truth is that for months I've felt ugly and have kept myself hidden in my house and away from sight, and this whole enforced break is making me feel even worse.


I have a lot to deal with, friends.
Sorry for such an abrupt rant.