One more scream...

I am not coping.

There, I said it. 
I have sat here for days trying to write this post. I fluff about avoiding those words, filling my paragraphs of stories and theories that do not actually confront the issue at hand. Then I delete it. Then I try again. Then I delete it. But I have decided today to just start with those words.

I am struggling.

Not only am I not coping, I am not coping with the fact that I am not coping. I wanted my family to grow so desperately and I love my family desperately and yet I sit here with a chest full of tension. A head full of fear. A heavy heart. How can it be possible to crave this, to love this and yet... resent this, somewhat? How totally hypocritical of me.

Five months ago I welcomed my second born Daughter, the second time in my life I have ever witnessed beauty such as hers. The second time in my life I have delivered into the world a being that I know will change the world. The second time in my life that my heart swelled with such magnitude that I could feel it bursting. Five months ago I was strong and capable and powerful. 

For the past five months I have tried to grasp those attributes as tight as humanly possible. The strength, the capability, the power. I want to be that woman. But she has slowly been slipping away from me and today I felt them disappear. I no longer feel capable, or strong or powerful. 

The last few weeks especially I have been questioning my ability as a Mother. I know I love my children, I adore them. They have made life something that I never could have dreamed it to be. But am I good enough for them? Am I strong enough to hold together through another scream? Another night? Am I powerful enough to pull us all through this?

The last several weeks I have felt my head aching with the tension, the hairs on my skin are standing on edge. My spine is riddled with the quivers and my chest is tight with anxiety. I am losing my breath and I am losing clarity. I am losing touch with my inner core, that safe place that I usually revert to when the world is spinning uncontrollably. My inner core is spinning even faster, I am dizzy.

Five months ago the most beautiful baby girl that ever possibly existed was born. She was born and placed into my arms. She looked at me with her big steely blue, soon to be deep brown eyes. Then she screamed and she hasn't stopped screaming. For five months I have listened to her in pain, I have watched her writhe and arch. I have watched her and I have been powerless. Her pain is my pain. For five months I have crumbled because I just cannot make it any better for her.

I cannot get her to sleep, I cannot get her to feed enough to satisfy her. We pass thrush back and forth between each other. My body becomes possessed by the infection that is mastitis. I cannot sleep. She screams and I cry. I beg for her to stop screaming. Then I beg her to forgive me. With every scream I can feel that little dial wind up a little more. With every scream I know my jack in a box is about to pop screaming and laughing at me. 

One more scream.

I am desperate to be the Mother to my children that they deserve. I am desperate to be able to withstand that scream. That scream that makes my skin crawl and my eyes fill with the heaviest tears. For five months I have felt each layer of strength be peeled away from me and I know I am down to my final layers.

Perhaps these final layers are the strongest? The most revealing? Perhaps these final layers are where my strength has been hiding. Because, today, when the screaming had not stopped for hours, when my baby had not slept since morning, when I had packed my children into the car, again, in search of some silence. I found myself just moments away from stopping the car and getting out just to find escape the noise. Yet, I chose, in that very moment, to stay and to do something different.

In that moment I decided that yes, I am not coping. I decided that it was time to say the words out loud. I can no longer keep this secret and I need help. In that moment, where my body was about to take over my mind I realised just how desperate I am. It is time. So today, I have requested the referral that Zalia's paediatrician has been pushing on to me and once I have that piece of paper I will be begging tresillian to take me.

Because we cannot survive like this. These final layers are my strongest but I will not let the last layer be peeled away. I will not watch myself crumble. 

It is time... time to pick myself up and give my children what they deserve. Time to find my capability again. My power. My strength. 

One more scream and I will still be here rocking, shushing, kissing, singing loving.
One more scream and I will still love you as fiercely as ever before.
One more scream, will not push me away