Mom-worthy catastrophes

I rarely ever cried or got super emotional before I got pregnant.  I, of course, like all women had my moments but I tended to follow the “I’m-mad-I’m-going-to-yell-lots” versus crying.  Something changed after carrying a baby around for 10 months inside my stomach and then pushing him into the world.  Just like that, I became a crier. 

First time I realized it was in June of 2012.  I cried.  At work.  I never do this.  My friend and co-worker, Lindsay, even commented on it.  What made me break?  The day care that we wanted to get into returning my phone call in which I let them know we were “so excited to have made the decision after 2 long days of thinking about it to take our son there”.  She told me they accidentally gave our spot up and he couldn’t come until February.  Cue all out sobbing and a tearful phone call to Jimmy to start the day.

And don’t even get me started right after Charlie arrived.  Any new mom can tell you.  I cried about everything.  Anything.  All things.  Who knew what was going to set me off.  I even got good at it…so much so that I could have tears streaming down my face and carry on a normal conversation.  My mom was a little freaked out by that.

I thought it would pass.  I am 6 months+ post-partum.  Back to normal, right? 

Ha.  I have realized that my emotional self might just be the new normal. 

Little things still set me off, but luckily it usually only equates to tears swelling up in my eyes and then I attempt to pull it together before they roll down my face.  Like staring at my sweet baby sleeping or seeing him sit up and grab toys out of the toy bucket all alone (those are the “growing up too fast tears”).  And even non-Charlie things can set me off…being so tired or overwhelmed I start crying or going through a tough time with a friend and being her shoulder to cry on. 

This weekend was one for the record books though.  I truly lived up to the “crying over spilled milk” phrase.

My worst nightmare happened.  The deep freeze where my liquid gold (aka breastmilk) lives was left cracked open.  I noticed it while I was changing the laundry…there was some water on the ground and I got a pit in my stomach and knew.  I just knew.  I opened the deep freeze and saw that things had started to thaw and I lost it.  I screamed as if I was in a scary movie and about to get murdered.  Then I started bawling.  Jimmy was in the middle of feeding Charlie his breakfast (rice cereal and banana) and he came running downstairs.  He thought I was dying.  I told him – “a little piece of me was”.  My MILK!!!!!!!!!!

Luckily…LUCKILY…I think the freezer had only popped open for a short amount of time.  I went through and got the 5 bags that had completely thawed that were right by the opening and then got a few that were for the most part thawed.  It was devastating.  I think it was 6-7 bags, completely wasted.  Makes me sick. Luckily, I was making baby food that we were going to use that day (versus freeze), so I used some of that and then took 3 fully defrosted bags to day care this morning.  So saved about half of it.  But I cried for like 15 minutes.  Jimmy actually was very sympathetic, which I appreciated.  That milk is my HARD work of pumping 3 times a day.  Staying hydrated.  Not drinking caffeine.  My liquid gold for my number one guy.  Thank God I caught the freezer open when I did – I’m not sure I would have been able to make it if all was lost.  I’m sure other mom’s that nursed, tried to nurse, or anything can sympathize.  Never thought I would cry so hard over it though.

It was a mom-catastrophe.  One that I still get a sick feeling in my stomach tinking about.  One that makes me want to run downstairs and check the deep freeze.  I think I will.

So I guess I’m going to have to accept the fact that this is the “new me” that cries over silly things and can also celebrate silly things (like Charlie having a HUGE poop at 4AM because he hadn’t pooped in 2 days…).  This is the mom-me.