Not easier

She's only 6 weeks in this photo and she's nearly 6 months now. I'd love to say I'm enjoying motherhood more now, but I'm not. I was planning on writing her birth story on the blog for today but after 3 horrendous nights of minimal sleep that was never going to happen.

Ever since she was born I've been lying to myself each week that something would happen to make life easier. I got through the first 3 weeks by telling myself her tongue tie revision would make breastfeeding better. It eventually did but it took about 5 weeks after the revision before she learnt to latch properly. From 4 weeks to 4 months I lied to myself that each paed visit would make things better or give me more hope and each time I was disappointed. I lied to myself that her skin prick test would give me all the answers, but it was an abysmal failure and resulted in us being discharged by the allergy clinic and paediatrician because she doesn't have anaphylaxis so I'm left to manage everything on my own.

I lied to myself that sleep school would make everything better and it did for a few days, but it's also made things worse. It makes me feel worse now I know she's capable of sleeping in 3-5hr blocks yet she doesn't do it at home. Teaching her to sleep in a dark room with no noise set me up with unrealistic expectations for home and now I just feel like more of a failure. I put her to sleep at 6:30 and I've already had to resettle her twice even though she was fast asleep when I put her in the cot. That's twice I've had to leave my 4yr old alone eating her dinner while I go tend to her sister {cue major mum guilt} and then I fed the baby to sleep {that's against sleep school rules, more failure}. Now I'm anxious about whether I'll end up only getting 3hrs broken sleep tonight and if I'll give in and cosleep again {also against the "rules"} not that it works because she just cries beside me, but it's better than trying to stand upright rocking for 2hrs straight resettling her over and over because the minute I put her down she bursts into tears. All these rules make me feel like a failure as a mum. 

I've lied to myself that introducing solids would make everything better. The reality is every one we've tried so far has resulted in either a reaction or her continuously gagging to the point of vomiting, or both. I thought by now she'd be eating food and it would improve her sleep, but now I'm thinking she'll be surviving off breastmilk until she's 5.

I continue to lie to myself that my elimination diet will get easier. It doesn't get easier, it just gets more normal, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. Eating the same bland food, or different variations of it, over and over is monotonous as all hell and I think my taste buds are dying a slow and painful death from the boredom. I don't get excited by food anymore, I force myself to eat because I have to, not because I want to. I fantasise about the day I can eat cheese and icecream, or even just have a meal that has rice in it. I long for the day I can go to a food court or a restaurant and just pick an item off a menu and eat it, I don't even care what it is, just not having to think about all the ingredients will be amazing. But the reality is that's ages away because every time I've tried to reintroduce food into my own diet she turns into a screaming banshee baby again and I feel horrible for causing her pain and I'm heartbroken for myself because I know I'm locked into this way of eating for even longer.

Each time I've given myself a glimmer of hope there's light at the end of the tunnel it's snuffed out. But I continue to give myself hope, because otherwise I just feel hopeless and stuck, and that only leads to scary dark places I don't want to ever go again. So I lie to myself and I'll continue to do it and live in this ignorant bliss, at least for a few days at a time until each light is snuffed out yet again. 

It's still better than facing the groundhog day reality of my actual daily life.

Toni x