Mommy Wants Vodka

…Or A Mail-Order Bride

Becky, Interrupted


I used to tell people that I wanted three children. Having had Alex now for almost 10 weeks, I’ve decided that I don’t ever want any more children. Which would be funny, except that it’s not.

You see, Internet, I’ve been lying to you: I’m not doing so well over here.

I gave birth to a child who on his best days could be described as difficult, and on his worst, hell-sent after a pregnancy that pretty much zapped my will to live. And now I am a prisoner in my home, chained to this baby who refuses to quiet for anyone but me. He rarely sleeps. Breastfeeding has turned from a ‘Hey, wow, this is cheap and we’re bonding and stuff’ to a virtual noose around my neck, tightening with each successive thing that I have to pass up because I cannot leave the baby for more than 2 hours.

I sit around day after day, surfing the Internets and watching shitty daytime TV while Alex alternately shrieks or breastfeeds, often simultaneously. For hours. I have no mommy-friends close, and my other friends live real big-girl lives that don’t involve diaper duty and cracked nipples. I’m so tired that I can no longer do simple math (let’s be clear here: I used to be able to do it) and I have no end or relief in sight.

There are even days that I question my choice to have had him at all. Of course, seconds later Mommy Guilt kicks in and I cannot believe that I could think that way. Alex doesn’t MEAN to be such an asshole, and being loved so wholeheartedly is somewhat flattering. But sometimes I wake up (or am still awake at 3am, so anxious that I cannot sleep) and look around and say ‘is this REALLY the life that I chose for myself, each day the same as the rest?’ and I wonder how other people do it.

I love him so overwhelmingly and I hate that I feel this way. It will get better; I know it will. My first was no walk in the park (he may have actually been worse as he was totally inconsolable) and I distinctly remember the day that life with him in it didn’t seem to be quite so long. However, in the here and now, I’m honestly picturing breastfeeding him through college. THAT’S how much he loves the boob and how trapped I feel right now.

Like an addict, I’m going to have to just take this one day at a time and hope for a better tomorrow, because losing my marbles just isn’t an option. And I am going to try like hell not to resume smoking, which is all that I can think about these days.

2 Comments to

“Becky, Interrupted”

  1. On August 1st, 2010 at 1:38 pm Mirth Says:

    I know you’re way beyond this now because I’m only three years behind in reading now so I know it got better. It does get better, right? You’re not still breast-feeding a squalling three year old right? Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

  2. On March 16th, 2011 at 3:53 pm The Wife Says:

    Yikes. Going through this with Hungry Mouth 2 (after going through something similar with Hungry Mouth 1)… It gets better, right? **grabs you by the shoulders and starts shaking** For God’s sake, LIE TO ME WOMAN!!!

Email will not be published

Website example

Your Comment:

My site was nominated for Best Humor Blog!
My site was nominated for Hottest Mommy Blogger!
Back By Popular Demand...