Me - The Failure

I don’t have a middle name. I never did. If I gave myself one though these days, it would be “failure”. That’s how I’ve been feeling these days. I’ve been disappointing pretty much everyone in my life… including myself.

Well, I should amend that. I FEEL like I’m disappointing everyone in my life. If they were called to testify for this blog (wouldn’t that be fun?), I can be objective enough to realize that they may disagree with me. It may all be my imagination that I totally suck. I can recognize that. However, it doesn’t change how I feel these days.

I have a new job/career, a new baby and it’s a whole new world I’m living in. I think of my life several years ago (which was much like SEX AND THE CITY without the need for penicillin) and I’m overwhelmed with how much has changed. I was thinner, I could take naps when I wanted to, my job was comfortably boring, I had a lot of time to ponder my life choices and my biggest concern was should I stay in on Sunday and watch PRETTY WOMAN for the 100^th time or go to brunch with my gay best friend.

These days, I work an average of 10 hours a day, naps are a thing of the past (as is sleeping all the way through the night), my ass is so big that I feel like it’s following me, I’m constantly lamenting over whether or not I should sleep train my son, I’m behind on my emails, on phone calls and every second of every day is filled with something I have to do, should do or am forgetting to do.

It’s not that I’m complaining. It’s a good life. I just haven’t figured out how to handle it yet. Every day I’m learning something new, worried I’m screwing something up and in a continual state of confusion. It’s like being terminally stuck in a David Lynch film.

And let’s take a moment and discuss my sex drive, shall we? I dare say it’s not so much a “drive” as much as it is “parked” and collecting tickets. It started when “trying to conceive sex” became a chore and has been one big complication all the way to today when I’m not only too tired to have relations but I could not feel less sexy these days. So, it’s official. I’m calling time of death on my sexiness.  Mark the time on your watch.

My therapy appointments are early in the morning before work and since I’m often sleep deprived, I tend to oversleep and am late for them. Then, instead of talking about my life, my therapist makes our entire session about analyzing why I was late to therapy. Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar and an alarm clock in just not enough lady.

I have friends who I haven’t been able to find the time to speak to, bills I should pay, two missing credit cards (I know they are somewhere) and any goals I’ve ever had to be a super mom who power walks early in the morning, who takes her child to music class on the weekends and still finds time to throw dinner parties has gone down the toilet I haven’t had time to clean.

On more than a few occasions, because of the long hours at work, I have missed seeing my son before he goes to sleep. My husband has become a master of solo dinner and bath time with baby and he’s even nice enough not to be pissed at me for missing the routine.

One night recently, exhausted and frustrated that I once again missed spending time with my son, I came home, picked him up from his crib, held him in the glider while he slept and I cried. I worked so hard to have him. Do I spend enough time with him? Am I able to appreciate all of the little moments with such a full plate? Does he know that one of the main reasons I work so hard is to make a better life for him? Is there a way to explain that to a baby???

On the surface, everyone seems understanding (well, except for my therapist). People know I have an 8 month old, a new career I care about and that I’m doing my best. I just can’t go on like this though. My best, in my opinion, is crap. I’m always running behind, I'm always apologizing for something, I can’t lose weight, I miss quality time with my husband (both sexual and non-sexual time) and even though I spend as much time with my son as possible, I can’t help but feel like it’s simply not enough. I wish I was Wonder Woman. I wish there was an app on my phone to help. I wish that when I woke up in the mornings, I didn’t always have an upset stomach when I think to myself, “Ok. You’ve REALLY got to try to make progress today. Seriously.”

Like any situation in life, I always try to maintain a sense of humor and a sense of hope. All of us, our lives as they are now, will not stay like this. It’s always ever changing and we can only try to keep up with each change and enjoy it. I just can’t figure out how to. I’m lost and my GPS is looking at me and shrugging her shoulders.

Right now, I’m sitting on my living room couch, fighting a cold while my husband and son sleep in the other room. This is a VERY rare occasion to sit down and write a blog… or sit at all… or even breathe… or pretty much do anything. I had hoped that this quiet moment would bring some answers but it hasn’t.  The only thing I can think of that may help me handle all of these changes is more caffeine. Lots and lots more caffeine.

I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually. I've worked too hard and too long to get to this point. I went through years of infertility treatment to have a beautiful son and I have used my experience with infertility to have a new career helping others with their treatment. I’m proud of that. Now, if I could manage my time better, get more sleep, have more energy, drop 50 pounds, find millions of extra dollars somewhere and have a real date night with my husband, that would be f*cking awesome.

I’m working on it. Stay tuned...