Things they never really covered in baby class...

Tomorrow, I am meeting with a counselor to discuss my mental well being after having a baby.

I suppose it was coming. While some days have been very, very good and filled with sunshine and lollipops, naps and peaceful feedings, the past few days were darker and made me wonder why the hell I hadn't run off to Tijuana, leaving Jeff with BD.

The past few days have been exhausting mentally. BD's going through a growth spurt and as a result is fussier and demanding more food -- on Sunday night, she fed for FOUR HOURS. FOUR. FUCKING. HOURS. I'm surprised my nipples haven't fallen off from that abuse. It wasn't cluster feeding -- where the little one tanks up during the day to sleep throughout the night. She was up every couple of hours at night, demanding food.

As a result, I have been worn out both mentally and physically. It's hard not to resent the girl that sleeps peacefully snuggled up against me when she won't sleep at night unless she's snuggled up against me. It's hard not to resent the lack of freedom because she's demanding my nipple every two hours (or less), depriving me of the chance to catch up on chores or a sweet, sweet nap.

Even though I made an appointment with a lactation consultant about the situation and talked with several of them on Tuesday, it still didn't offer any comfort.

Yesterday was the tipping point. My sister called and found me on the couch, sobbing because the girl wouldn't let me sleep for more than 10 minutes.

"Where's Mom?" she asked, since my mom and uncles were supposed to come up for a visit.

*sob* "I don't know."

"I'm calling her," she said and hung up.

Apparently she called my mom and basically said "WHERE ARE YOU? YOUR DAUGHTER NEEDS YOU! GET UP TO MADISON RIGHT! NOW!"

My sister is the coolest sister that ever lived.

Mom complied. I also called Jeff, said I wasn't doing so well and he came home. It's nice knowing you have family support.

It was then that I finally got the guts up to call for counseling. I haven't had any since college and part of me (the macho part) isn't happy to get it, but I know I need it. Bad days happen. There will always be bad days. Days when she's a voracious eater and fussy with loud crying spells. There will be days of projectile pooping. There will be days where nothing gets done because she's so needy.

Those are the days I need my strength. Those are the days when I need to be strong enough for her and me. And right now, I'm not sure that there's enough strength there.

Despite the maudlin tone of this post, things are looking up. I met with a lactation consultant who found that BD is doing alright -- it was probably a growth spurt. Everything I'm doing as a mother is on target (despite me feeling like it wasn't).BD also gave me her first smile, which knocked my socks off. BD's been napping today quite nicely and eating well. I got out of the house, saw some coworkers and enjoyed some freedom with her. I also managed to get some cooking done.

But this is a sunshine and lollipop day. Tomorrow is about addressing the not-so-sweet days. Everything will get easier -- I really don't have any choice in the matter.