She's Come Undone (sorry Wally Lamb...loved your book by the way!)

I knew this would happen eventually. I just didn't know when and under what circumstances. I have officially lost my mind. I am a total basketcase. A complete emotional trainwreck. I'm flipping out. I'm crying uncontrollably. I am feeling like a panic attack would be a welcome escape from the place I am at the moment.

Pregnancy hormones, denying Jane the opportunity to nurse, having to put her in the care of a complete stranger for 1-2 days a week, plus stopping my Zoloft cold turkey (Yes, again. What's that saying? Ah, yes -- the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results.) have given this girl all she can handle. She's flipped her lid.

Yes, I'm still pregnant. That is great news! Isn't it? I don't even know because my brain is so fried I can't even comprehend the fact that I am pregnant. Apparently, the hormones are raging. I was a cool cucumber (so not) when I was pregnant with Jane. What is with the crying now?! I may have been a chronic worrier, but at least I didn't have to deal with the crying last time.

I've weaned Jane. Or am weaning. I'm not sure if you can say it is past-tense yet. But she will never nurse again. Bring on the waterworks. This is very emotional for me. I know I nursed her long enough. I am not feeling guilty over that. But when she looks at me and tries to take my boobs out of my shirt and cries, "Mommy miiiilk" it really breaks my heart. I want to give her comfort. Now I just give her a reminder that mommy is mean and doesn't love her enough to give her that comfort. She's actually doing remarkably well with it, but occasionally she will slip and ask for milk and when I remind her it is all gone, she whimpers and I have to choke back the tears. Tonight, since I am already in the most fragile state of my life, she saw my cleavage (lol, I know, this sounds weird) and she started crying and said, "mommy hold hand". I lost it. Right there in front of her I started the ugly cry. Then she got very concerned that mommy was crying so she kissed me and got up in my face and said, "hi, hi" like she was trying to take my mind off of crying. And the final blow was when she said, "mommy STOP crying, momma stop crying!". I finally did. It took great effort on my part. I was scaring her. :'(

And now on to what I think is the main part of my breakdown: child care. My mom no longer wants to watch Jane 2 days a week (just one...I think/hope). Jeremy is not going to be able to watch her on his normal day for about 6 weeks. This means the dreaded "outside caregiver" must come into play. I am not mad at my mother. Really. She has been watching Jane since she was an infant for FREE. I knew this day would come. But I was in major denial. We've met with a woman who I think might work. I guess it's really a good deal. She charges $25 a day (I won't tell her I'd pay her $100) and will watch Jane whenever we need her to. Any day of the week. She watches 3 other kids full-time and has a few other "drop-ins" (that is what Jane will be dubbed) on any given day. She is nice. I met her in the park last year and struck up a conversation with her. But I still don't know her. Yes, I got references, but...I just don't have trust. (I am faithless in everything.) I am scared out of my mind about Jane's food allergies. And when I get in the presence of a potential caregiver, I lose my sense of self. I freeze. I don't know what to ask. I don't know how to be normal. I get chatty. My sentences get choppy. I mess up my tenses. I become completely stupid. My tongue gets in my way for crying out loud! I forget to be Jane's advocate and am just really concerned with the fact that if I show any doubt in her maybe she will be mean to my child. I've already run through my mind where I can place a hidden camera in her house so I can make sure she isn't giving the children hard-boiled eggs willy nilly. I seriously have. I thought I could maybe hide one in my diaper bag and strategically place it somewhere I can get a sneak peak. How crazy is that?! Will I really do it? No. (I don't guess so, damnit) I find myself downplaying my fear over her food allergies when really I should just tell this woman that I am scared to death about Jane eating something she's not supposed to and having a horrible ER-neccesary-trip-inducing reaction. She did assure me that it would be no problem to keep Jane's food that I bring from home to just Jane. I just need her to tell me exactly why that is the case. I must get up the strength to ask her for a second interview. After I call every reference on her list, that is. (heh heh...I am such an idiot, I told her we probably wouldn't even need the references). I'm so scared I might offend a possible caregiver. How can this be good parenting? It's not. I'm lame and weak. And spineless.

We went today for our first "interview" but it was during kid hours so it was kind of hard to speak to her at length about any one topic. Jane seemed to like it OK. The kids were really interested in her and had her cornered at one point. Not being mean, but overly embracing of her. She got spooked. Came over to me and said, "go home". Turn dagger in heart another rotation.

Yeah yeah yeah, I stopped my Zoloft. Again. Why? Because I can handle it. I'm pregnant anyway. I don't need it. I totally didn't have a complete panic attack today and call my mom sobbing uncontrollably, "pleeassee.....come.....over....I...can't...breathe". I'm so able to deal with this on my own. That's why I stopped my Zoloft. Cold turkey. For the billionth time in my life. I learn from my past mistakes buddy! You better believe it!

Lastly, one final thing I feel the need to mention is that my body is disgusting. I should have lost all of my excess bagagge (I look like the saggy baggy elephant) before I got knocked up again. Now I feel as if I've passed some kind of critical point and there is no going back to even a halfway decent body. I will never again have a body that won't make me want to vomit and say, "What is that disgusting thing!? Can't be me! What?! That is ME?! Oh my GAWD, kill me now!" again. This second pregnancy will for sure send me spiralling into stretch marks, which I somehow avoided the first time around, and an oddly disappearing lumpy, dented ass for all eternity. Don't laugh. It's not even funny. If you laugh I will cry and I don't know if I am capable of stopping.

Look, it's ME!