Sometimes I feel as though I am not coping.
I can be wondering around a park with a friend, watching my child sleep, and everything on surface level is great. It's a small reprieve from my thoughts and worries.
Underneath, there's a wave inside me that peaks and troughs.
Depending on my emotions (and hormones?) the wave oscillates; swinging my thoughts into wild panic and despair, while at the next moment I am seemingly calmer and more positive about things.
Now, this could 'mommyhood' (is it?), or it could just be Me.
Let's take today. I went to meet The Quiet American at St James' Park for lunch and a stroll with Sebastian. The park was filled with tourists, it's a sunny day, and swans were waddling about, there was a live band playing, and the food was fresh.
But before that, and after, my mind churns.
Molly. How UNFAIR it is. How nobody important at the NHS will ever read my letter. How the pain never dulls. I'm alone in the pain, because no one else can possibly feel it.
Why is my baby battling to sleep in the day again? Why is my fuse so short? Why do I feel like I want to run away from this sometimes, then in a second regret I feel like that, and feel guilty that I had such a thought?
How I am terrified Sebastian will die at any second.Constantly need to check, must check, always check. Imagine finding him dead and lifeless in his cot. My mind is plagued with these thoughts endlessly. I panic and rush to his room.
But he won't sleep, and I want to scream and shout, why, why why won't you sleep? And I want to leave him there to cry, but I can't, I just can't.
How our young marriage has had so many things thrown at it, and how I feel it's taken strain. And how I wish for the day when we can hold each other and experience a moment without panic, anger or sadness about what's happened and how it would be nice to feel safe and secure in each other again.
How my milk supply suffers sometimes, and how I desperately want to feed my child as I have been from the beginning. How I try everything to keep it up, even though it's exhausting. And I fight for every drop of milk I produce.
How our families complicate things even further.
How I am scared to go back to work (only in January, but I am starting to fear it immensely), and how I will need to hand my precious child over to a nanny.
How nobody understands or gets what its like right now.
How we need a holiday away; how I miss home.
Then I breathe. The thoughts are only momentary. I savour the few moments of distraction. My bath time, when I can put a candle on, listen to my music and soak. My lovely friends who I talk to constantly. Have a glass of wine. Disappear into a 9pm movie.
But sometimes, I just wish it was us 3 in the world. Just us 3. It would make life and everything else so much simpler and easier. And perhaps we could address everything much easier. And I could address myself. Most importantly.