Browsing Tag

pain

not feeling so supermom, pregnancy

I hate my life and everything sucks and I just want to curl up and cry

June 3, 2009

Shucks, the hormones are going crazy again. I just had a mini meltdown yesterday over absolutely nothing. One moment I was calmly having dinner with the husband and next thing I know, I’m bawling like a baby. The thing is, I’m not even sure what really triggered it off. I think it was probably the accumulated exhaustion, the excruciating pain in my back and the impending delivery. I suddenly felt like I was drowning.

Husband: Are you alright? You seem awfully quiet today.

Me: Yeah I’m fine.

*Extended silence

Husband: Babe, you sure you’re ok?

Me: BWAAAHHHHHH… I thaid I’m phine tho just thop asking ok! BWAAHHHH… AAHHHHHH

Like I said, total meltdown. The mood swings are ruining my life.

To put it into perspective, I’m not accustomed to losing it like this. Or so I think (the husband might beg to differ). But 2 pregnancies back to back has thrown all my hormones into overdrive, and for the first time in my life, I’m behaving like a neurotic, manic and schizophrenic all rolled into one. And I totally can’t help it. My brain knows I’m acting crazy, but it’s not listening to reason.

It was really bad just after I gave birth to Tru. With the c-section and a screaming infant, my post natal depression was off the charts. I remember sobbing uncontrollably for hours everyday during the first 2 weeks postpartum. Out of the blue I’d just sit down and cry (not the half-ass cry but a massive mucus-flying kind of major sob fest). I would try to stop, but I just felt too depressed.

Accursed hormones.

I’m hoping it wouldn’t be so bad with Kirsten. But by the looks of it, I think I’m in for another bout of baby blues. It’s time to brace yourselves.

PS. I don’t really hate my life. Except when it sucks.

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pregnancy

Pain, pain, go away

May 20, 2009

With 8 weeks to go, all I can think about now is giving birth. I’m not looking forward to the birthing process per se, seeing that I’m terrified of needles and I’m averse to any sort of pain whatsoever. I have the pain threshold of a 3-year-old child, and the slightest bit of pain sends me hyperventilating.

I’ve got very vivid memories of Tru’s delivery after the anesthesia wore off and I was screaming the hospital down for morphine. Totally unglam on retrospect, but pain turns me into a raging maniac.

Suffice to say, I’m dreading the labor and delivery, but the final weeks of pregnancy is like being in Siberia. It sucks. There’s nothing I can do except twiddle my thumbs and wait for water to trickle down my legs (not pee, ok). I can’t remember what it feels like to run and skip without a care in the world. Just the other day, I thought I was going to pass out after 5 minutes of brisk walking, and I had to sit down for the next 30 minutes to recuperate.

There’s also a new ailment which didn’t show up during my first pregnancy. Recently, my crotch feels like there’s an elephant sitting on it from the inside, and any slight movement sends a wave of numbing pain (akin to a bruise) into the joints. Evidently, it’s put quite a damper on the romance and passion this time around.

On top of it all, I’ve been having unexplainable throbbing pains on various parts of my body. The husband seems to think its hilarious, but there’s really nothing funny about it when I’m on the receiving end of some ancient voodoo curses. I remember this scene in one of the Indiana Jones’ flicks where some tribal witches were performing a curse on a voodoo doll by stabbing it, and the pain would somehow be felt on the real guy. It freaked me out then and still haunts me till this day. I have also since stopped watching Indiana Jones. It’s evil.

voodoo-dolls-wallpaper

seriously, it hurts. Stop it!

A couple of days ago, the pain started in my hands, like someone was stabbing my wrist every 10 minutes. After searching the net for possible explanations, the best advice was to leave it alone and lo and behold, it just went away the next day all by itself.

Now it’s moved to my left ear and it’s getting unbearable. It’s so bad that I can’t even swallow or think without wincing in pain. Unless some insect crawled into my ear and died there, I’m pretty sure it’s caused by some venomous Mother, Inc haters.

Whoever you are, I’ll hunt you down and may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits.

Ok, seriously, please make it stop. I’ll do whatever you say.

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kids inc

Truett Kao: Adrenaline Junkie

March 20, 2009

I have this nagging suspicion that my son is an adrenaline junkie. And partially masochistic. First of all, he doesn’t seem to feel/mind pain. He can’t sit still (not even for 2 seconds), he’s totally fearless and he has this massive need to climb to the highest possible point all the time (and then fling himself off it).

I used to think that we are all wired with a basic human survival instinct, which is relatively simple. Pain = BAD. No pain = GOOD. That means I shouldn’t have to tell him fundamental stuff like “Don’t throw yourself off an elevated point” or “Don’t drown yourself” or “Banging stuff on your head is bad”.

Most kids seem to get it, but mine is evidently struggling with that concept.

While we’re at it, isn’t there some research that shows how humans can be conditioned to stop doing stuff that brings detriment to their physical beings? i.e. putting your hand at an open flame will result in PAIN, which is BAD.

Call it bravado (or retardation), but my boy absolutely does not register the fact that stupidity will bring about bad consequences, despite having been at the receiving end many times.

Let me elaborate. I’ve probably mentioned that he’s flung himself off various high objects numerous times (7 times and counting), but he just keeps finding new places to jump off. Just yesterday, he managed to pivot his body off his cot and headfirst onto the floor. Till this moment, I’m still baffled by how he did it, considering the bar was up to his armpits.

Then there was the pool incident. While most kids make it their aim to avoid having water enter their noses and mouths, my little daredevil is completely unfazed by being submerged in the water. To him, swimming is no fun without trying to drown himself. Apparently, staying above water is for the amateurs.

It’s getting out of hand. His mission is life is to devise new ways to inflict pain upon himself, and my mission is life is to stop him. Sorta like a real-life, twisted computer game.

And the count stands at Mommy: 6 points, Tru: 8,527 points. Great, I’m getting thrashed by a 9-month-old.

I’m thinking, it’s time to bring out the big guns. Maybe I should wrap him up like the abominable snowman all the time to provide some additional padding. Or else I’ll have to attach a pillow permanently to his head and his butt.

Forget fashion, survival trumps style.

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