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So, I have a son now. It’s taken me the 7 weeks since he was born to find the right way to express how I feel about being a Mom again. I would like to write about the birth and all that, but it was really boring as births go. It was much easier than Charlotte and I really only pushed a couple of times before he slid out on his own. He was 9lbs 2oz — big, but still lighter than Charlotte was by 8oz. He’s beautiful, and sweet, and healthy.

I had these delusions of how having another baby would be — challenging, but totally do-able. I’d morph into super Mom and be able to keep my house clean and organized while still playing with Charlotte and breastfeeding my little boy on a perfect schedule. I’d go for walks with the kids and do projects with Charlotte. I’d be blissfully wrapped up in being a Mommy.

It’s not like that at all. I feel terrible for feeling like I miss having just one kid but some days, like yesterday, I feel so overwhelmed and fed up that I want to cry and punch something all at the same time.

Not getting a shower for 3-4 days
Picking up shitty diapers the dogs have chewed
Realizing that I can’t breastfeed because I’m too lazy/selfish/emotionally defective
Not knowing why Owen won’t stop crying and just SLEEP
Wanting a nice healthy breakfast but only drinking coffee and water until Abram gets home from work
Watching the laundry pile up
Watching the bills pile up
The stretch marks aren’t magically invisible
Missing the closeness with your husband

blah

It’s just nothing like fantasy I had in my head. I know I probably built all this up while I was pregnant…how everything would just fall into place and I’d get it. “IT” — being this supermom. But I’m failing and it sucks.

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