Yesterday was Day #2 of Shaun being back at work. Friday, Day #1, went fairly well. Amelia wanted to be held most of the day but I was able to get some things done. Saturday, not so much. She would wake-up every time I put her down. It didn't matter how deeply she was sleeping when I put her into the pack-n-play, the crib or the basinet. It was like she had some 6th sense and after 3-5 minutes she would wake-up crying and not settle down unless I picked her up.
About 2pm I was starving, I was frustrated and my arms were tired. I felt T.E.R.R.I.B.L.E doing it but I called Abby and asked her to come over and just hold my little girl for 10 minutes so I could make myself lunch. Instead of giving me a brief time out, Abby and Anna came over and whisked AJ away in her stroller. Mommy broke down in tears of guilt. I felt like a failure. Two weeks old and I already was asking someone else to take her for a few minutes. Two weeks and I felt like maybe I wasn't supposed to be a mom - maybe I'm supposed to just love everyone else's kids.
The hour was refreshing. I got a sandwich, put some laundry in the washer, folded & put away other laundry, and brushed my teeth without fearing that I was going to get toothpaste all over my newborn. When I walked over to bring her home I took many deep breaths of fresh air and told myself I can do this. I might not have a sleep schedule worked out yet but I have been getting 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep from 11pm - 3am for the last several nights. I must be doing something right. I might feel like a pacifier with a little person constantly glued to my torso but when she's not eating, she's a happy little girl.
I'm sure yesterday wasn't the only time I'll call out for help. I just wonder how many times I'll bawl out of guilt for doing it even though I know it's better to ask for help than not.