Baby Blues

When we moved into the house with our new baby, we had literally no heat, no idea what the fuck we were actually doing and no sense of anything ending with a pretty little bow in the near future.
I had bronchitis starting the day after I gave birth, so literally every time I coughed I peed my pants a little (a lot, shut up, YOU shove a kid through your "canal" and tell me how you feel a week after).

I began trying to unpack our boxes and lives and figure out some sort of system so I had some sort of sanity.

Since I was postpartum, everyone was treating me like I was made of glass but I didn't FEEL that way.  I felt like a goddamn mama bear and ready to fight for her space in this world.  I moved furniture up stairs when no one was home, did LOADS of laundry, and tried to pump my full breasts in order to feed my child.

But between, roofers and squirrel killers and various other sorts of contractors I tasked myself with handling...I really didn't have time to think of pumping.  Whenever Nate slept, I unpacked and cleaned more.  Whenever he was awake I prayed he would sleep.

I NEEDED to make this place workable so I COULD relax.  Most night I was so exhausted that I passed out before I even ate anything.  My exhaustion was insurmountable, and I felt like I was in quicksand just grasping at anything to feel normal.

Moving while having a newborn?  I do not recommend.

Because now, 2 plus years later I am filled with guilt that I didn't spend enough time bonding with my newborn son.  Not that he remembers but *I* do, and I feel terrible.  So terrible, in fact, that the thought of having giving him a sibling pains me.  I don't want to take anything away from him, any attention or time.  I feel like I already did that.  But I also want to give him siblings.  I'm so torn.

I fear that I'll be able to give whatever new child we bring into the world more time, attention and thoughtfulness than we did to Nate.  Will I be able to breast feed this time?  Maybe.  Will I want to? I don't know because I wasn't able to do it for Nate and I feel as though it won't be fair.

And I'm not getting any younger.  I'm getting closer to 40 as we speak, and I don't want to be the oldest mom at the class recital (although I'm fairly certain I'll be close to the oldest).  So we have to make this decision soon...