I follow this blog called "finding joy". The post that first grabbed my attention was posted on facebook called "Dear Mom, who feels like she doesn't measure up". The post that most hit home this week was Why It Is OK To Take a Mom Break. I don't usually take a break. I don't stop to recharge; the only way I run, is on empty. Partially because I want to be the best and most efficient mom for my children, but also because I'm trying to make time to tap into Me, the person I was before children.
Last Saturday I was so thirsty. All day I was thinking I have to remember to get a drink. But I'd get to the fridge and now Fiona wants milk. I get her milk, give it to her, clean up the toys around her, respond to an email. Remember that I needed a drink. I get up walk into the kitchen, stop at the pile of papers on the table, find a doctors note I need to respond to, go to the living room to get the phone, call the doctor. That conversation leads into three follow up conversations with the insurance company and whoever else. Now the phone rings and it's my husband. He asks "What's for dinner tonight?" Dude, seriously, you ask me this question every single day, and every single day it pisses me off. But today it reminds me that I've been trying to get a drink. I go to the fridge and now David wants milk... and a snack. I wash and cut the apple and bring it into the playroom, where the toys are out again. I clean them up and find some dirty socks. I bring the dirty socks downstairs to the laundry room and throw in a load of laundry. I bring up the dry clothes and start folding them. Take the clothes up stairs and get the kids in their pajamas; Dave's watching the kids tonight while my girlfriend and I go to see a medium... ooooo. fun. Sandra walks in the door and says she needs to stop at Wawa before we get on the highway. Dave walks in the door (thank God, because we've got 35 minutes to get 45 minutes away.) We don't want to be late, so we skip Wawa and I remember that last year the medium had drinks and snacks, so I figure I'll get something there. We get there 15 minutes late, no snacks, no drinks. I don't want to be rude and get up to find something, it's bad enough we're 15 minutes late. A few hours later we get a 10 minute break. I have a pounding headache and remember that I didn't really eat all day, so I get pretzels and a pepsi out of the vending machines. Long night. We get on the road home and I'm parched. I asked Sandra if we could stop somewhere and she said, "Well I still have to stop at Wawa to get money from the ATM, so we can get something there." (40 minutes away and around the corner from my house). I didn't even bother to buy a drink, I just figured at this point, I'll grab something at home. But once I walk in my door, I'm so exhausted and I don't want to disturb anyone, I'll just get something in the morning.
I couldn't sleep, I had terrible stomach pains. David was in my bed, so I just watched him all night. Around 6:00 am I get up and hope I throw up. Sure enough I get to the bathroom and puke. yuck. bile is coming up, reminding me I didn't eat anything. I get on the toilet and have... well... it was yuck. I suddenly get really hot and then really cold, I call Dave's name and next thing I know my hair is in my face and Dave catches me under my armpits. I remember that I didn't have anything to drink all day either. I was so weak at that point, I could hardly speak and I felt awful. Dave called the ambulance and then starts running around "Do you need anything?" I tell him to call my neighbor to watch the kids and to get David seomwhere so he doesn't see anything. The EMTs come and take me to the hospital. The nurse asks me to give a urine sample to make sure I'm not pregnant; she asks if I'm ok to walk to the bathroom. I don't want to be dramatic so I say "Yeah". Thank God my mom was with me because I bent over to give a urine sample and was back on the floor. Everyone runs into the bathroom, gets me on a bed, and I was out. I could feel the blood drain from my face and my extremities. I could hear everyone around me, but I could not respond or move even enough to open my eyes or wiggle my fingers. I thought to myself "this is what it must feel like right before you die". I was scared. Unfortunately, my mom and Dave both witnessed the whole thing. They both said they thought I was dead. Four liters of saline later, I peed a few ounces. I was so dehydrated, I ended up in the hospital over night. I ended up gaining 3 lbs just in water weight.
With the exception of the months during my pregnancies, I have never been one to take great care of myself. But I was so mad that of all the things I insisted on doing throughout the day, I knew I needed a drink and somehow... I forgot. Although I love all of the the things that fulfill my life on a day to day basis, I forget to show gratitude to that which sustains it: my self. I'm frustrated with the adjustment: trying to drink and eat, I've gotten so used to getting by without and now I realize that I have to dedicate some time to it... but what mother has time to spare?! At one point, I overheard Dave talking to someone and he said "I guess dehydration can kill you."
Noone could have prepared me for the guilt that comes with Motherhood. I finally, very recently, figured out the value of spending time with girlfriends, and taking a break without the kids... but now I have to factor in time for the break that I really need: a lunch break.
On that note, I'm going to go eat... and in the reflection of my screen, I'm raising my glass of water... here's to you!
