I'm trying desperately to get back to normal. The more I try, the less I know what that even is anymore. I'm really struggling with every day life and when people ask me what specifically, I can't even answer them.
I just don't know.
What I do know is that financially we're hurting. It's basically a miracle to have the
GoFundMe account because Matt hasn't been working anywhere near his normal hours so his paychecks are basically non-existent and funny thing, your creditors kind of don't give a damn about your hardships or current life situation. We know we will have
thousands in medical bills coming our way and that's actually really scary. I mean, what can you do? Make a payment plan and hope for the best, I suppose.
I went to the neurologist as scheduled and that was basically a waste of time and whatever the cost of that is going to be. She told me my brain is mostly good. I've got a weird spot she isn't concerned about but doesn't know what it is, she's "pretty confident" I'm not a stroke risk, but my pituitary gland is "shot". Which makes the appointment with endocrinology even more important. Thankfully, with the insistence of my OB, that got moved from mid-September to this Friday. In order to get ready for that, they wanted me to collect urine for 24 hours.

Which was mildly exciting because I had an actual job to do! That and it's going to be actual confirmation to everyone that I am peeing a ridiculous amount. It's really astounding because I had no idea my bladder could even hold 32 ounces of pee at once but IT CAN. In fact, it does it at almost every pee break which is anywhere from 30-60 minutes. That and I am excessively thirsty, which I'm told is also a weird pituitary gland thing so I am really hopefully that Friday's appointment is like... the best thing I have ever gone to. At this point, I am up in the night more than Lucy.
Which isn't saying a whole lot because as it turns out, Lucy has a thing against sleeping on her back while not being held. That's been exciting.
Also on the docket is I have an appointment today (Thursday) with a new general practitioner. My current one is in in a city thirty minutes away and my delivery and surgery team think I need someone new and closer, so they got me in with someone at the clinic my kids go to, which is two miles from my home. I could actually walk there if I felt so inclined.
I'm not.
But that's tomorrow and frankly, I don't know what the point of it is, really. I hate going to the appointments because they ask me questions like, "how do you feel?" and it's like- I don't know? Like, I feel alright
I guess. My insides hurt, I have depression and anxiety, I'm exhausted, but I'm also incredibly angry and frustrated at myself, at my body, at the world. Basically, Lexapro isn't cutting it, I'm sick of being treated like a baby but I know I'm not capable of being on my own, I want to leave the house alone, but that also feels exhausting, and I've never felt more helpless in my entire life. So.. that kind of sums it up.
Fix me.
But I should also talk about Penelope and
her adjustment, because while I'm quietly falling apart on the inside, this little bright light is doing a great job as a big sister. When Lucy cries, Penelope will either be the quiet observer or she panics and doesn't know what to do because it scares her. She is very interested in handing me things the baby needs, will rub her head, and generally pretty good when we have to take care of the baby before her for something. Right now she still has Olivia and Jackson to play with so I'm curious to see how she does when it's mostly the three of us. Well, my mom has been here every day with us (thank god), but I don't know how much longer she wants to do that. But it's been the best. My mom knows when to push me, when not to, she knows my bouts of silence are OK and doesn't constantly ask what she can do, she just does it. And she does everything the way I do it so it's never frustrating. I never feel like I'm being babysat. And there have been times where I just vent to her and she just gets it. Even when she doesn't, she at least makes me feel like I'm not actually crazy.

So it's been hard. I don't know what normal is. I feel like I'm so far off the track of normal I might never get there. I'm so frustrated. I don't know what I need to get better, or what would help (aside from the lottery... I'm convinced a large windfall would be helpful), and I just want to be better. One friend said I probably need counseling for PTSD. And that's probably true. I have all of this frustration, and sadness, around Lucy's birth and I need to deal with it. But then I feel like such a whiny baby because I have a perfect baby and I didn't die after all. But now I get what people say when it fucks them up to
almost die. It's a bizarre situation to be in. How do you even deal with that?