It has long been a battlefield for men – the war, and women – the perinatal period. And psychology is known, for example, the “Afghan syndrome” – post-traumatic disorder in the former warriors, when he is unable to return to civilian life and starts to “fight” in the family and at work. It turns out that our women’s “battlefield” also has a similar syndrome – call it a “syndrome of maternity.” When a woman can not return to “peaceful life”. When a child begins to sleep at night, no longer ask for the breast begins to be more independent, she appears … increased anxiety and guilt.
The roof is gone, when Basil was 3 months. Prior to that, he slept at night with a maximum of 3 hours with colic and allergies, and then in addition, managed to recover and be in scarlet fever infectious diseases hospital. I was mobilized, as in war. The husband asked how I stand it.
And then all of a sudden was adjusted. Bob began to sleep at night. The first time I slept like the dead sleep, not even feeling like giving him the chest, not remembering what was going on, sleep, night and day, and went to chop off at the first opportunity. And when I catch up on sleep, I went to the roof.
I could not sleep. In a fit of anxiety I jumped to it. It struck me hot all the time, and I measure his temperature.
I have some free time, but it would be better if it did not appear. When I sat down to read a book – I felt guilty. It should! Urgently! Do! Cleaning! But … We washed! Prepare! Dinner! However, full of food in the refrigerator. We have to save someone from something! When the child appeared another spot, I ran to the doctor. When appearing in the mouth (oh, horror!) Bubbles thrush – it seemed to me that this is the end of the world. I was looking at it the symptoms of serious illnesses, because he behaved like something is wrong, has passed all examinations, which are possible, and I caught myself thinking that I was going to take the next is not very correct analysis in the paid center. And I cry on the shoulder of her husband’s pleading, “Stop me!”.
The funny thing is that this has happened to me. When the eldest daughter (also with colic and allergies) began to sleep at night, I also rode the roof. And when the first decree began to draw to a close, I began to suffer at all an existential crisis. How so! Back to sleep at night seemed a luxury.
And now I’m going to the subway, look at the sleek childless men, buried the plates (loafers, watching movies!), And women with luxurious hair, smelling of perfume, sticking out of the bags with chocolates that I have three years of breastfeeding allergy sufferers can only sniff … And I catch myself thinking that I blame them. I cynically devalues their lives, whoever they were. After all, I am a mother, I offer ! And they! They drink coffee in the morning! Get up at noon on Sunday! Yes, it’s for life! Senseless! And my – with meaning! After all, I’m saving the world!
It is urgent to get pregnant again. Despite the physical and mental exhaustion. After all, it is necessary to save the world! The fact that the husband was tired “save the world” and just wants to live a peaceful life, I certainly do not care. The fact that the older child wants to play with me, but not to participate in the salvation of the world, – too.
Another child – there is always a sense of life, there is always someone to rescue, there is always what to do. But … something’s wrong here, right?