Recipe For Disaster

Oh blogging land. How I have missed you. I have thought of you often. Thought, “That would make a great post!” Or “Such and such a reader would love to see this”. But finding the time and energy has been tough going.

trying to keep a positive outlook

I have been struggling with antenatal depression during this pregnancy. I didn’t even know it was a thing until it overwhelmed me. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t cope with all that life was throwing at me. Why when I was asking for so little, was it taking so much out of me? And why life seemed to be constantly trying to smother us under  troubles and woes. I tried to be superwoman, to hold everything together and to do it all on my own. Surely a recipe for disaster if ever there was one.

I saw professionals in desperation. I resisted their urgings to go on medication. I just didn’t feel I was quite there yet. How would it affect the baby now and after delivery? How would it affect baby nursing? Breastfeeding and babywearing the Little Paddler was sometimes the only thing I could do right when I had postnatal depression with her. It is really important to me that I give that aspect of bonding every chance with this baby. I really felt that with some lifestyle changes, I could get enough breathing room to get back to an even keel and cope with life.

but why did the fox leave his gloves behind mammy? won’t his paws get cold?

It’s an ongoing struggle but talking it through with those professionals has certainly helped. The medication is there if I need it and knowing that helps too. But sometimes a snatched twenty minutes outside helps more than I can explain. A few weeds pulled. A flower admired. A pea pod popped. Standing back and watching a formerly hysterical, clingy toddler march off into “her” garden to hunt for goodies and having Mr. Fairweather say, “You did that. You taught her that.” These little moments helped.

Then came the news that I had a low iron count. This, the professionals said, would account for lack of energy and general tiredness. Further investigation showed low B12 which is why no matter how much spinach the Little Paddler shoved in my mouth, I wasn’t getting better. It might also explain the general despondency and feelings of inadequacy. Hearing this was like seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. There was hope.

this little hedgehog came waddling through several evenings in a row – here’s hoping a family might be setting up shop

I am still tired but feel it makes sense now. I forgive myself for the mess the place is in and think of the bigger picture. Its a sea of weeds but perfect for wildlife like hedgehogs and sitting ducks and the occasional hen pheasant. Rome wasn’t built in a day and I need to learn patience. No point envying places that are ten or fifteen years established and comparing them to ours which is three years in and done on a single part-time salary really. There’s a medium/long term plan for the smallholding. We have no idea how to afford it but we hand it over and pick our battles. Right now, the most important battle is keeping mammy and new baby well. We’ll take it one step at a time. And admire the flowers and eat the spinach and beetroot leaves my toddler feeds me.



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