Body Issues

I have them. I am insecure about my post pregnancy body type. I envy media portrayals of what women are expected to look like. I resent art that captures women in unrealistic and unobtainable form.

My face is worn down by exhaustion... my stomach is poochy but without stretch marks. My arms are bigger... my thighs... everything is different.

So I am sensitive. Nothing fits and I try to work with it... but faking confidence is my downfall sometimes.

A lot of my venting virtually...

stems from melodrama and I realize this. Being real with oneself, is this... I accept that I'm a flawed individual but at the same time I feel like I can be a damn good parent because I can be honest about these feelings.

The things I have a hard time vocalizing is my inner struggle with the ideals that coincide with my borderline personality disorder. I find that I always look for ways that my life could be one that is preferred versus what I can do with the reality I have to work with. The difference being... one is attainable and the other is not, the other is my daydreams carrying me away. My life has always been free and "book worthy" in my honest opinion because I've always been able to do what I wanted, when I wanted to. I had no debts and I definitely wasn't responsible for another creature... let alone, a human one at that.

I've proven to myself that patience and perseverance is a strength that I have overcome. Relationships and intimacy have always been a struggle with me... relationships in general are hard but to have a relationship growing inside of you while trying to maintain one on the outside says a lot about personal perseverance and strength, or at least it did for me. The circumstances that surrounded my pregnancy were not ideal, the hardships that I endeavored were not ideal (physically, financially, medically and mentally), even laboring and the feelings and obstacles that lingered afterward weren't ideal. I struggle every day... and there isn't a moment in time that I'm not stressed about one thing or the other. At the same time, I'm very fortunate that I have such a happy, healthy and wonderful child at the end of the day. I think I've put emphasis on this enough to a point where maybe I'm monotonously drawing out the issue.

I never envisioned parenting would be hard for me and in a sort of fairness, it isn't really... it's just a sacrifice of sleep and ones self. I'm lucky that I have a child that likes to sleep, likes to laugh and has paladin like strength. I am not planning her activities in a structural manner, like I thought I would... I'm aware of curriculum based around her age but I don't base my daily activities around simplistic teachings.

Instead, we learn German through industrial music, metal or whatever genre I feel is suitable for the day... depending on my mood. I tell her that I'm not feeling well when I don't... but that we'll make the most of the day. I read fantasy novels to her without pictures and she likes the way my tones range from character to character. She watches Game of Thrones with me... and giggles when we facetime grandpa or if I'm just playing a few rounds of Hearthstone. A few times, dad and I have xboxed while she lay in her bassinet just kicking up her arms and legs cooing. Age wise... these aren't appropriate... content wise, definitely not... but I feel that she is getting stimulation in a way that is educational and entertaining for all parties involved... and I think that's what is most important.

My child laughs... she tries to talk and her face lights up when she sees her mom and dad.

I can build myself up and get crushed on facades and ideals until my skin shrivels and I'm absorbed into the Earth... but in due time, I'm only cheating myself of the realities in front of me... and that reality is time waits for nobody so I must make the best of what I'm given.

I'm dying. I'm dying. :choke:

False alarm.

Just an FYI: when somebody is having a panic attack the person suffering is probably not going to be able to tell you what to do.

Yesterday my response was... "calm down the baby... then get me some ice, please." I legitimately can't think properly aside from these thoughts.... I am going to die and choke on my vomit. My organs are going to burst and/or I'm going to suffocate.

Just squeeze my hand and help me ground myself. I've survived pregnancy.  I've given birth. Roar. I can do this... nope. I CAN'T. What's worse is it makes my kid sad.

Arya was very fussy on Sunday. Rob was convinced it was her teeth but I knew it had to be something else. On Monday, I got her adjusted at the chiropractor and took her in.  Sure enough... she had an ear infection in the left ear. Poor baby. She had been screaming in pain and sucking her fingers, tears everwhere. So we started her on amoxicillin yesterday.  She's wiped out but when she's awake she's super cranky at times.

Four month shots were due today. She turned 17 weeks on Sunday. She cried. It was sad. But the doc says her ear is starting to look better and put her on a dif medicine for her vomiting problem.  She's 11 lbs 15 oz almost 24 inches long. Her head is still in the 5% range. Weight maybe 22% and height 30%.

I haven't been feeling well because of anemic stuff and obviously she isn't either because her ear. We stayed in bed watching Game of Thrones... totally into it. In fact she cried everytime I paused it. She loves the theme song.

She still finds time to giggle, coo and squeal with delight. I can't believe I get to be this kid's mom. She's awesome... so sweet and happy.

Tomorrow we visit with the visiting nurse and then hopefully an adjustment and long overdue snuggles.

I'm exhausted. No Hearthstone today.

Father's Day

This day has always been special to me because I can reflect on the love and strength I've gained over the years from one of my all time favorite humans... my dad. This particular holiday has in turn become more extraordinary to me because we celebrate this holiday with a new family member, my daughter's father... Rob.

As surprising as it sounds I've learned a lot about patience through my dad. My brother and I have always been late bloomers and although his patience has been stretched incredibly thin... he's never failed to always be patient and his love has never ever failed us, not once... not ever.

A best friend through and through no matter how hard we've screwed up... he's always picked up and been able to laugh with us and offer his advice. I'm forever grateful.

My dad has shown us the world and has never doubted we could have whatever we wanted in the world if we tried for it. He's one of the most selfless human beings I know, compassionate, smart and good looks to boot. He's a great adventurer that hasn't slowed down over the years... only proving that he's young at heart, wise beyond his years and you're only as old as you feel.

I'll never forget his creativity and encouragement and how he has always been my hero. I only wish him endless happiness and that he'll live to be over 150. I'm proud of my papa and I'm glad he's mine.

I can't speak for Arya but I know her face lights up when she's face to face with daddy. They love to play and share laughs together. I'm excited to watch them grow together.

Happy Father's Day!