First, I just wanted to thank you all for your prayers that I asked for on my last post. Mom and baby are doing great. Baby Eric will be in the NICU for several more weeks, as can be expected in situations like this, but is doing well. So again, thank you!
I've been angry lately.
It's like this uncontrollable rage inside of me that spews from my mouth in the direction of (usually) my husband and (sometimes) my babies. Things that should be small issues, handled delicately, with a soft voice instead become the BIGGEST PROBLEM OF ALL TIME.
I see it happening. I feel the tension build in my mind. I'm just going to bring it up, I tell myself, because then I'll feel better. It won't be a huge issue, I lie.
And then, like clockwork, I sound mean and snotty and all hell breaks loose. Probably also because it's not the one time I rudely pointed something out, but the fifteenth time that morning.
With the kids, I hear my strained voice when I yell their name. I feel it when I pick Clara up to carry her to time out. I'm short and mean.
I'd love to blame it on PMS. Or, at this point, I should probably call it just general "hormones." Unless I go with a four-week-long PMS. I guess I can take my pick.
Or, I could blame it on the whole state of affairs in this country. This has been my personal preference for blame on most days. Even one liberal status update on Facebook can send me into a tailspin. Or the news. Or television shows. Don't even get me started. I had to turn SNL off the other night and vowed to never watch again. I make a vow like that at least once a week and they rarely hold. But it's really getting to me, as it should because it's our faith, our country, our children's future, precious unborn babies being murdered every day. But as horrible as all that is, I can't let it control my home life, you know? And I don't think Jesus wants it to cause me to yell at my husband about how he doesn't sweep the floor right (oh, yes I have). I'll gladly accept any tips on finding a healthy way to compartmentalize this.
Sometimes I wonder if this is how I'm subconsciously dealing with secondary infertility. It's so different from before. Instead of having sadness and despair, it's causing me anxiety. I'm on edge. Maybe that's turning into emotional outbursts directed at the ones I love.
I could also try to blame it on the fact that Clara's been sick for more than a week and now I am too. And Clara was sick a few weeks ago too, which means she wasn't sleeping through the night for the better part of a month. Clara waking up means Luke sometimes waking up, which means both parents up (that's not counting Luke's first waking, which happens every night around 9 or 10). And Clara's just crazy when she wakes in the night. Inconsolable. Speaking of inconsolable, she's been like that during the day lately too, which the doctor says is from her being sick. I hope so. If this is the start of the true Terrible Two's then I think I'll need a therapist.
I got in a fight with my iphone the other day. No, really. I even picked it for no reason. I didn't even need Siri's help, but I randomly decided to tell her that she never, ever helps me (she doesn't). I told her Apple needs to make her work better. And that if I wanted to google something, then I'd just do that in the first place.
After a little back and forth, it ended with her telling me she was sorry she let me down. I apologized, too, for getting so upset.
When I told Ryan that story he immediately asked why I apologized to her, when I rarely do to him. Because her apology was just so sincere, I said. She was sorry she let me down. I think I really needed to hear that.
So, clearly, I have a problem. Ryan doesn't deserve it, and my kids definitely don't. And I think while all of the reasons I list may contribute to my anger, it's really all my fault.
If I was smarter and more introspective, this would be the part of the post where I explain why it's all my fault, which would likely have something to do with pride and my relationship with God. But, I'm not, so instead I'll say this: I'm going to spend the next 40 days trying to figure it out.
And not just figuring out why I'm angry - because does that really matter? - but, rather, how I can be not angry.
And "not angry" is not the opposite of happy. Because I'm extremely happy. I'm happy, joyful, I have fun. I just have outbursts of anger. I turn the heat unnecessarily up. I have a difficult time controlling myself.
So I hope and pray that I can get it under control. I'm going to eliminate some of the obvious causes, like Facebook. I'm going to give my children more attention by not having my phone in the room with us. I'm going to start going to Adoration once again. I'm going to even call my doctor and ask for another form of progesterone (hello, 8-day luteal phase) since I can't handle prometrium.
And I'm going to use my best Mrs. Duggar-voice, and not just with the kids. I'm going to try at least once a day to let something go, not tell my husband what he did wrong, or forgot to do. And then maybe I'll build up each week to two, or three things a day. Sometimes I pretend I'm a nun who's good at stuff like that. Is that weird?
And I'm going to blog. I'm fasting from Facebook, but not the internet in general. And if I'm not on there, I'll want to be on here more. But the good thing about that is we only have a desktop, so I can only do it at night when the kids are in bed. Maybe I'll report weekly about how I'm doing, what amazing insight is sure to come to me in Adoration (why was I gone so long? That could be my whole problem right there), and how I'm hopefully becoming less angry.
And if you have any advice, please share. My family will thank you :)