Today JT and I took William to the doctor for a follow up visit. This was JT’s first time meeting William’s new hematologist. I met him for the first time on Friday in the hospital. William’s previous hematologist retired just last week. I will definitely miss Dr. C. Dr. T. (new doctor) seems very nice and he listened to and answered all of our questions. On a very positive note, William’s blood count was 7.8.
JT and I had to make a very important decision for William’s health today.
Next week, William will begin chronic transfusions. We hope that these monthly transfusions (for hopefully no more than one year) will keep the hemoglobin count up and reduce the chance of a sickle cell crisis.
Needless to say, I became very depressed today.
I think JT has a hard time understanding that sometimes. He may ask, “are you depressed Shaani?” and I will answer, “yes, because of (fill in the blank)” but then just moments later he will ask what is wrong… and I’m left with a puzzled or frowned look on my face. Perhaps this is his way of communicating and reaching out to me, but it doesn’t come across to me like that.
We continue to work on building our communication skills in our relationship, but sometimes it is a bit bumpy along the way.
I took a nap in the afternoon… I really need that. The children woke up from their nap around 5pm. I made my calls to friends and family to update them on William’s health. The children and I watched some ‘Little Rascals’ on DVD, they ate dinner… and that was about all of my day. Tough day.
I went to a new doctor today. He was very kind and agreed that I should start on the medicine that Dr. J discussed with me last week. I have to admit that I am scared to take the medicine because I am not good at taking anything everyday at the same time and because of the possible side effects. This evening, Dr. B assured me (or at least tried to) that if the medicine didn’t work for me, we would try another prescription.
I will schedule a follow up appointment in four weeks.
It is hard starting over with a new doctor. Medical release statements… I just always feel weird when I sign those.
My energy level is very low today. A couple of times at work, I debated coming home because I was extremely exhausted, my voice was hoarse and I had difficulty concentrating. I haven’t been motivated to do anything that I should be doing.
I hope that I can get a good sleep tonight.
Tomorrow begins day one of four to six weeks.
Note. I’m having one of those moments. So beware, I may become repetitive to the few and far between loyal readers of mine.
I lost my independence. I couldn’t tell you exactly when and where I lost it, but I know I don’t have it now. In recent years, I have become very dependent but even more so during the last twenty-two months; starting with the beginning of my pregnancy. I feel like… I shouldn’t feel bad for being so dependent, but I do. After my cesarean, I wanted to do it all myself, breastfeed the twins, change them in cloth diapers instead of disposable diapers, feed them every two to three hours as well as take care of myself…, but I couldn’t, at least I couldn’t without by myself (I know a few readers are probably thinking well you shouldn’t have to do it by yourself, right?)
I’m doing a lot better now than I was fifteen months ago. I don’t get as tired easily and frustrated with the daily childcare. On the other hand at moments like this, I feel like the same woman that laid in bed helpless after giving birth.
I really, really, really want to go to bed now, curl up in the fetal position and cry but I can’t.
Tomorrow is a very important day for me at my job.
Now I just don’t know if I can make it happen the way I wanted it to happen. Things would’ve been easier, but we know that Shaani likes the more difficult route. I rather sit and sulk by myself and… try… to make it happen than sit in a room with someone verbally then mentally placing blame. I can’t endure the negative tension. In this case I rather do it alone. Who knows if that is the right decision, but I know that it feels right.
I have about nine hours before I catch the bus and eleven before the meeting begins. Let’s see what happens.
Last night I hoped for a brighter day and when the phone rang at about 6:40am I thought there was nothing but bad news on the other end. Let’s face it; unless it is a wake up call or someone is having a baby, if the phone is ringing before 7am, it can’t be good news. I was wrong this time, I reluctantly answered the phone… a female voice was on the other end, I asked who’s calling and she responded, “Nicole.”
I was completely ecstatic. I hadn’t spoken with Nikki in about a year and I haven’t seen her since July 2004, two months before my children were born. We talked for a little, I lost track of time then realized it was time to get myself ready for work then wake up the twins. She told me about the birth of her daughter and how her two sons were doing. I made sure to tell her how much I missed her and I jotted down her numbers. JT later threw in the male perspective when he bluntly stated, “yeah y’all need to hang out so you can get the hell out of the house.” My feelings weren’t hurt and I actually chuckled internally. In a depressed state, I probably would have started crying and question him repeatedly… but I wasn’t depressed and I saw the truth behind his words.
I think that part of my healing may be getting more involved in what little social life I have. JT suggested hanging out with my friends more. I end up saying the same thing that he says about his friends. They have their own lives… they won’t come… they’re busy. I will have to take what I can get, a little bit at a time. I’m remembering how much I really miss just hanging out. Not necessarily going to the movies, out to eat or to the museum. Just hanging out. No children running wild and throwing blocks. Just hanging out. Being lazy, laying back watching television, eating cheetos and popcorn, gossiping. Just hanging out. I miss that. I need that.
Plus two months.
Since I have last written something on here of importance, my children have turn one year old. They turned one on Wednesday, September 14, 2005. I find it very difficult to believe that one-year has passed. Where does the time go? William and Keisha are both walking now, nearly running on occasion. At this very moment, William is slapping his sister and… then I broke up the scuffle. Yeah they fight now. William pushes, head butts (no thanks to Dad), bites and scratches (if the nails are long enough which I try not to let them get long enough for). Keisha does all of the above except for head butts. I guess because William’s cranium is a bit tougher. Note I said tougher and not bigger. Keisha’s head takes after Mama’s huge fivehead but somehow William has mastered the head butt *cough because of Dad.
On Tuesday, August 30, 2005 JT bought the house that we live in. For me, nothing compares to the feeling of living in a house instead of an apartment or town home. JT, the twins and I have a lot more space in the house than previously. The only downfall has been is that is has taken a while to get the home like we want it. JT works two jobs, I work one full time job and oh yeah I’m still depressed.
Yesterday, while scavenging through the archives, I found some more 2002 journal entries; January, April and May 2002 to be exact oh and also the rest of the December 2003 entries. Now the only thing that I am missing are my January 2003 entries. I can’t fully explain how finding those entries was like finding a missing piece to a million piece jigsaw puzzle, the piece that made everything complete… like wow I can actually see the tiger in the field now.
I really need to continue to write more often, even if I don’t share all of my thoughts with you all. Some things shouldn’t be said online. I could make those entries private. And no I don’t mean private where my so-called buddies can access them with a login/password. I mean private where only I can see them. Writing is therapeutic for me and has helped me throughout my healing process. And maybe later down the road I can unleash those thoughts. After mornings like today, I am more compelled to do such. But not just yet…
We know that I’ve been dealing with postpartum depression for five months now. Long time right? One may even argue that the hormonal changes that I went through last year during my pregnancy even contributed to my postpartum depression. Hell, I was probably depressed before the birth of my twins. What is that, prepartum depression? *holds in laugh… Seriously, last year was the most difficult year of my life. 2004 brought out the best and the worst of me.
*Note: This entry was written during training on Tuesday, January 18, so I could stay awake :shh:
I’m in training at work for a couple of weeks, which is just fine in my book because I actually get off from work at a reasonable time with daylight out * gasp. * When I normally get off from work, it feels so late and this usually sets the somber mood for my evening. I feel so tired and drained, dreading any household chores. The feeling is quite the opposite when I’m off from work around four pm-ish.
Before the twins were born I would even have time to come home and take a two to three hour nap. I call my three hour naps – power naps. I (used to) feel like a new person after a power nap. Unfortunately, I don’t know what a power nap feels like anymore. So now, when I’m fortunate to get off early I take advantage of this time in other ways. I may do a couple of chores around the house such as loading/preparing the dishwasher with dishes and baby bottles, making the bed, loading a load or two of dirty clothes and gathering the trash.
Other than that, what I’m really focused on is relaxing and getting some me time. I don’t have much me time these days and as much as I love my twins, I do miss my me time. Finding a way to incorporate me time into a tightly sealed schedule has been a difficult part of my healing process. Don’t get me wrong… I can love up William and Keisha all day everyday. Just ask JT LOL. But at the end of the workday or the evening at home, I need my own personal downtime. Downtime can be implemented several ways such as cuddling up with JT, hot showers/baths, writing, reading, watching tv and/or browsing a select few websites. Downtime is important and I’m sure every mom and dad in the world can relate to this.
*Oops, I just hit publish on this entry before I was finished.
The twins have been staying up nearly all day as if they knew something is up. I think they know that the New Year is right around the corner and they don’t want to miss it. This is the first time that they have never had at least one major nap throughout the day with me. This in turn, led to me not getting a nap either lol but that’s cool… In recent weeks I’ve head a great deal of energy compared to when I was on my maternity leave. Vitamins are a necessity.
I made a very tough decision to stop breast feeding. In recent weeks I have been battling with whether or not to stop. Since I went back to work on November 8, I just haven’t had the necessary opportunities to pump my milk like I need to. My job is strict on adherence, which in short means that we have to be on the phone for a certain length of time and on breaks at a certain time… every gotdamn thing is logged. I’m not going to get into the whole bureaucratic bullshit that I went through, because there is no telling who knows about this site :nonono: (I have learned from other sites that you must be careful of what you speak of regarding certain things)…
What I will tell you is that I became very frustrated that I didn’t have time to pump at work, and stress is a nono for breast milk production as you mothers out there know. When I would arrive at home, I would be exhausted from the long day of work. I may get one or two breast feedings in that night and maybe one the next morning. The numbers were against me because I should have been breastfeeding every two to three hours, about eight to ten times daily… not two or three times in the whole day. The milk production continued to dwindle which led to depression on top of depression. Despite the obvious drastic physical changes in breast size, I wasn’t ready to give it up.
Lately when I’m feeling down, it feels like my children are the only people that can pick me up. At work, when I’m on the phone with an ignorant customer, I sit and stare at a picture of the twins… They ease my frustration and I tune out whatever negative comments are blasting in my ears. When I’m down and out at home, all I have to do is glance over at them and they put a smile on my face. Their smiles are the greatest. I’m sure every parent says that about their children too heh… But really, their smiles bring warmth to my soul. I could never have imagined that two small beings could bring me so much joy.
And despite this, then I struggle with the feeling… why I even sit here sad and distraught, while my two greatest achievements lay asleep in the nursery? This should be a time of endless celebration and joy. Not sulking at things that go wrong and crying over events out of my control.
I look forward to the day when I can set back and look at these posts and say damn what the fuck was Rashaan thinking? Was she crazy… she was really just blowing things out of proportion.
But you know what… immediately after that thought, I think… when I feel like how I feel now, I don’t even think that day will ever come. You see that I’m not optimistic these days.
In the meantime, I shall cherish the cooing of William and Keisha, William doing that tongue thing, Keisha doing that turning her head to the side when she is hungry thing, William doing that turning his head from left to right like Mama thing and Keisha doing that sucking in the bottom of her lip in thing.