Were I not certain of my own ability to make something out of nothing… this is where I would give up. Life right now, is challenging.

Poppy is three and a half months old. Fourteen weeks old. Something like one-hundred days old. That is how many months, weeks, and days I have been exhausted, hungry, lonely, dizzy, troubled, stressed-out, frustrated, terrified, frantic, homely, and just about every other negative adjective you can dream up.

It is also the exact same amount of time I have spent in deep, deep, endless love with my daughter.

She’s worth it. In fact, it is today that I have decided to let everything go. I cannot worry about the floors getting mopped, the dishes washed, the beds made, the dinner cooked, etc. 

I have to worry about the real things. The things we, as mothers, never speak of. The scary things. The truth… I have to worry about the truth.

I am Poppy’s sole source of food. This is an enormous weight and an enormous joy. There has not been a single day since her birth that I have not been attached to her or a pump, 8 times, for at least 25 minutes, in a 24 hour period.

My body hurts.

The stress of knowing that your child’s nourishment is dependent on you is huge. I am so thankful that I am able to provide for her, and yet so tired of the fear and demands that come with breastfeeding. It is supposed to be special time, a beautiful little break from the world to nurse and talk and adore her… and it is, while simultaneously being one of the hardest parts of every day. The world doesn’t stop because Poppy Avalon is hungry. I wish it did.

Meals are hard to come by. I am so thankful that my body was made for this abuse, and somehow I manage to produce just enough milk to satisfy my babe.

Basically, I’m really struggling right now. Aside from all of the gargantuan Poppy worries looming overhead… the little daily-life foes are really adding up. 

And I’m terribly lonely.

But not the kind of lonely that is better when I have a friend over, or visit family… it is lonely on my insides. Hopeless feeling. Sad. So much so that I don’t even want to be around anyone at all. I need help and no one knows how to help me. 

Have I mentioned that Poppy’s favorite pastime is screaming?

I have never been so close to defeat before. It stinks. Thankfully I know better, I know what I am capable of, I know that I can claw my way back to the sweet spot…

I’m just tired and thirsty.