It helped more than you can imagine that you took the time to read my incredibly neurotic last post about wacky mid-life hormones. And to those of you who commented to let me know you are in a similar boat– well, you just rock. Sometimes I guess bemoaning my aching ovaries has its place.
So thanks for that love and support.
I had another thought that made me wonder. . .
. . . as my journey towards weaning continues with Emily, how is that affecting my hormones, and how is that affect on my hormones affecting my emotional/physical state? My three and a half year old daughter continues to nurse one or two times per day, usually. Sometimes she goes a couple days without nursing, and I’ve been practicing the whole “don’t ask, don’t refuse” thing.
Breastfeeding is all about hormones. I’ve noticed that there are times when the oxytocin rush from breastfeeding is more effective than a dose of Zoloft. But then there are other times when it makes me want to claw off my skin. So, I wonder if my hormones could be additionally out of whack, not so much because I am going into perimenopause (which I don’t really think I am yet), but because my body is just confused from this whole march towards weaning?
Do any of you know anything about that?
Today was also Jack’s last day of second grade. He’s had a great year, mainly because he had a phenomenal teacher who really supported and inspired him. We have had no tantrums about school or homework, and more importantly none of the somatic complaints that he was voicing last year. I’ve felt so blessed that he’s had this safe space to be in during the day, and I really think it has allowed him to grow and learn emotionally, intellectually, and behaviorally.
That said, I sort of dread the summer.
Jack and I both have a hard time with change. It really rocks our boat in a big way and can lead to anxiety and anger. I totally understand where he is coming from in this regard because I am really right there with him. This year, he is doing some summer day camp about which none of us are particularly thrilled. I’m praying there will be nice kids there, attentive staff, and that Jack will not be miserable all summer because of it.
This morning I sort of broke down and cried. I was just so overwhelmed and sad about not being there for my kids as much as I want to be, as much as they NEED me to be. It is really, really hard.
My husband took this job in February with the expectation I would be able to cut my hours at work. This has not come to pass as I cannot leave my program in the lurch with no staff, and financially we are still digging out of a pretty deep hole. So, we are both at our limits and have not really been available to each other.
So, this morning when my daughter wanted to look at books instead of put on her shoes, everything just crashed around me and out came the tears. I pulled it together pretty quickly, and Emily’s hug was like magic. I got the kids out the door and felt a surge of pride watching my little-big-boy march into the playground for his last day of school.
So, it’s not all bad.
And you all are still here.
So, it’s not all bad.
One random final thought:
When Jack was a newborn and I was struggling with postpartum depression and anxiety, my husband would take our colicky little son and walk him around the house. The Spouse would sing this chant that I believe is from Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh.
It went, “I have arrived, I am home, in the here and in the now. I am solid, I am free. In the infinite I dwell.”
This little chant came to me today and gave me comfort.
So, yeah, I am home with my achey, breaky ovaries, my mommy guilt, and my anticipatory anxiety about the summer.
In the infinite we dwell.