Wipe Out

I mentioned on Friday that I've ordered over 300 prints of Jack in the past month. I also bought 100 sheets of 4 x 6 photo paper yesterday at Staples. (Which I scored for $8.49 and they came with a $8.50 rebate. What what!?) It's all in an effort to complete Jack's baby book, put pictures in the two brag books I got for my baby shower back in February 2009, and maybe, just maybe scrapbook his first year of life. (In other news, I also decided to order my wedding album! From September 2007! Making my photographer dig through 300+ discs to find OUR wedding pictures!)

Since I'm not very smart, I ordered a random smattering of pictures from all throughout Jack's first year of life and then promptly mixed them all together. So now I have to go back and put them in order. Which is a lot harder than you might think. I fired up this here blog to see if it could help me with the order and lo and behold, I SUCKED at blogging when Jack was first born. In fact, I didn't post a single solitary thing in May 2009. And there are all of 4 posts in April. (He was born on April 3rd.) I never finished posting his birth story. I never explained the story of my incision bursting. I posted two pictures of him before he turned 2 months old. It's bad.

I felt guilty when I was away from Jack doing school stuff and then felt even MORE guilty when I was with him and couldn't comfort him. I would let anybody else hold him because I felt so disconnected and resentful of him. And I was embarrassed and scared and tired and confused. I needed help and had no idea what to do to get that help. I knew I SHOULDN'T be feeling those things but I didn't know how to NOT feel them. Ya know? No matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise, I always went back to those same dark places. It was like I was in a hole and couldn't get myself out of it. (Not a very good analogy, I know, but it's the closest I can come to describing it.)

Honestly, I've blocked a lot of it out because...well...who wants to remember that? But looking through these pictures and seeing my bloated, tired self reminded me of it all. And then the silence on my blog is very telling. I generally don't post when things aren't going well and there's a REALLY BIG HOLE at that time in the blog.

I wish I could go back in time and change it. If I could, I would go back and ENJOY the tiny child. I would take better care of him. I'd take better care of ME. God knows I would be a better wife. Why Alex didn't just let me pack up and leave, I do not know. It's weird because those few months were a giant ball of suck and I am so, so, so glad they're over. But at the same time, I wish I could go back in time so I could fix it.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I don't have a nice, neat way of wrapping it all up. Because more often than not, depression doesn't have a happy, neat ending. I'm certainly not depressed now. And I do pretty well dealing with anxiety. But Jack is also 21 months old. And I'm just now ready to go back and document his first year of life. And I guess, more than anything, I wish I could go back and tell my lumpy, mascara stained self that it's gonna be alright.

Also, that iPhone was a REALLY good investment.