A Crack in the Dam

The other day the tears came.

I knew they would; it was just a matter of time.  No matter how much I try to stay positive, my life has dramatically changed and I knew it would eventually overwhelm me.

The day wasn't bad or anything.  It was just little things all day long.  I couldn't get our laptop to work.  It's over five years old and incredibly slow.  We just can't afford a new one right now, though I'll need one for sure when I go back to work.

I wanted to make spaghetti for dinner that night and didn't know if I had enough money to buy the ingredients.  I ran errands with Emmie and it was almost 100 degrees outside.  Simple things like dropping off clothes at the cleaners requires extra effort: lugging her out of the car in her car seat, balancing my purse and the bag full of clothes.  I sweat easily anyways and that day my forehead was like a faucet.

Another thing, since I got pregnant last year I am a total scatterbrain.  This is extremely frustrating, because I'm kind of Type A.  So we went to one store to drop off a prescription.  But I forgot my insurance card.  I wanted to run over to my parents' house to pick up some things.  But I didn't have enough gas.  Then I went to another store where they had ground beef on sale.  Emmie started to get fussy and we left after that purchase.  Then I remembered I needed tomato paste. To keep her calm, I carried Emmie in my arms into another, closer store.

Emmie went down for her afternoon nap when we got home.  I started cooking.  Bruce's dad was off work and was reading on the couch nearby.  Then one of my best girlfriends called on my cell phone.  I haven't been able to really talk with her, or anyone, since we've moved in.

I so wanted to just let it all out.  To have the relief of someone (not part of this family) who would listen to me.  But Bruce's dad was right there, and the water was almost boiling.  I went upstairs to try and talk for a minute, but it still didn't feel private.  I felt all rushed and restricted.

After a short, stilted, dissatisfying conversation, we hung up with the promise to talk again soon.  I resumed cooking, then Emmie woke up crying.  I got the noodles drained and the sauce simmering.  Bruce and his mom came home from work.  I went upstairs to feed Emmie.  And I lost it.

Being a new mother is unbelievably tough.  Not working can negatively affect one's esteem.  Living with other people can be stifling.  I try really hard to be strong, but I'm not made of stone.

After I had a fierce good cry, I wiped my eyes, went downstairs, smiled, and ate what I made.