Birthday Party from Hell

My little baby has turned a year old as of April 9th, 2011! Where the heck a year has gone! In some ways, I feel as if I've made tremendous strides and in others, I find myself lacking quite a bit. In the great spectrum of time, a year is a second. So I've got many more "seconds" to keep trying.

Below is a description of the days preceding his 1st Birthday Party. I'm sure all you mommies out there can empathize greatly with me!

1 month before the party: Better send out a guest list email invite thing since I know I won't have time to hand write cute little invitations. Result: my husband CHANGED my guest list (including people I didn't know and even people I had no desire to come!), changed the time frame, changed the format and wording, and made it a dumb video invite thing that was sent out to everyone 15 times so it looked like SPAM!

3 weeks before the party: I'd better talk to my friend about helping me make a fondant cake because I'm making everything else... I'll need the help and he'll most likely want to do a practice run... Result: we had a ton of fun making homemade fondant and playing with the fun food dye! NOTE: homemade fondant is very difficult to stir by hand and unless you have a KitchenAid Mixer, you'll break a handheld. But it is so worth the effort!

2 weeks before the party: I'd better think about the menu... Eh, I'm an excellent party planner, I can whip this thing up in a couple days- I really don't have time to sit down and plan a menu and take inventory of the kitchen right now.

1 week before the party: I still have no idea how many people to expect since most didn't RSVP like they should have. NOTE: if you are invited to something, make sure you RSVP even if you aren't sure you're coming or not otherwise you'll look like THAT person to the host/ess. You know, that person you have to HOUND to get a response... the person you wish you just didn't invite because getting an answer was like pulling teeth and they said they'd come and didn't show!!

2 days before the party: it is Thursday night and I receive some unsettling news regarding the guest list and proceed to scream at my husband over who he freaking invited and whether or not I even WANTED that person or people invited!! It was supposed to be about 15-20 max with our core group of friends and possibly some additional co-workers of his. I intended to have a smaller get together with our church friends the next day after service because we live in a friggin condo and don't have room for the 40, yes I said, 40 FREAKING people he invited!! And not everyone was on the guest list to come at the same time. But what does he care: he wasn't the one cleaning for it, cooking for it, hosting it, bagging up left overs, and cleaning up the mess! *Insert rolling eyes face here* I went to bed completely upset, stressed out, anxious, and didn't even sleep!

1 day before the party: It is early Friday morning and I blatantly tell my boss that it is a high anxiety day for me today because of the people I did not anticipate. She felt bad for me and tried reassuring me. I work about 12 hours a day for 3 days a week at a chiropractor's office. It was a LONG day and I swear you'd think I had the jitters the whole day if you saw me. It was awful and I probably gave myself an ulcer!

Friday night, I get out late and decided to go to the grocery store to buy all the ingredients I needed. It is 9pm and I decided Big Y has the best pizza so I'll have dinner before shopping. After enjoying a delicious slice of sausage pizza, I order the pizza for the party tomorrow and start my trek through the store. I don't get very far since I have to pee like a racehorse. I knew I should've just gone before I left work but I thought I could wait til I get home. WRONG. I'm about to pee my pants, there's stuff in the cart, I can't take it in with me, so I grab my wallet, and book it to the potty. I HATE USING PUBLIC RESTROOMS! I burst into the only open stall in the two stall restroom and look at the toilet. Ok, there isn't anything yucky in it but I'm still not putting my porcelain butt on that thing! There isn't a self to stick my wallet on so I gingerly lay it on the toilet paper roll dispenser. I yank down my skirt and undies and attempt to hover over the toilet without losing my balance OR peeing on myself. Accomplished one, not so much on the other. While I didn't fall over or pee on myself, I didn't manage to make it all in the toilet. Gross, I know. So I am being a cleanly patron by wiping up the toilet seat for the next person.As I go to get more, I must have pulled too enthusiastically because in slow motion, I see my wallet... my gorgeous Vera Bradley black, white, and green Baroque wallet slide off the toilet and dunk into the nasty piss filled toilet!!! In slow motion, I yell, "Noooooooooooooooo!!!" and lunge forward but the wallet is out of my grasp! And you hear, "Plooooooooooooooooop!" as something big and heavy fell very quickly into the pot. The old woman next to me must've thought I was giving birth to a bowling ball or something. I have no idea what to do!! My beautiful wallet is sitting in the nasty piss hole, the crapper, the john, the deuce catcher. Every vile and disgusting nickname for the toilet is running through my mind. I call my husband and he doesn't answer. So I call my friend Jason, he's the one helping me with the cake.

Me: "Jason, I called Anthony but he didn't answer and I don't know what to do. I'm ok, it's not an emergency or anything but it kinda is to me.You can laugh at me tomorrow but don't laugh at me today, ok? I don't know what to do."

I bawl my eyes out to him IN THE PUBLIC RESTROOM with the grandma in the stall next to me listening to every juicy detail and my beautiful defiled wallet still floating in the toilet amidst urine and toilet paper.

Jason is a go to person when you freak out and can't think clearly. He has made a point to think before he speaks and is very sensitive to a woman's ever present roller coaster of emotions. He calmly instructs me to get the wallet out of the toilet and get the toilet paper off it and to rinse it thoroughly. After following all his instructions, I'm still crying to him about the woes of the freaking guest list and he promised to come over early to help me and to be my buffer for the day. Thank God! Note: no ladies, he's not gay, he's straight as an arrow, good looking, well dressed, funny, financially stable, one of the smartest men I know, sensitive, and SINGLE! Too good to be true right? Well, those myths about men like that have to be based off someone, right??

While all this is happening, Grandma comes out and is washing her hands in the sink next to mine, all the while blatantly staring at me with her mouth slightly agape. IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HELP ME, THEN GET OUT!!!! That's what I was thinking. Of course, I'm still crying on the phone to Jason so I don't say any of this. Grandma leaves and in walks this young, hot, Miss Thang with her pretty strawberry blonde hair (which I'm SURE was fake!) and heels clicking. Jason asked me if I remembered to flush the toilet. I couldn't honestly remember. Maybe??? Horror struck me. Miss Thang just walked into the stall I used.... I wait... HA! I must have flushed but there must have been pee and toilet paper splatter everywhere still! TAKE THAT, Miss Thang! I really had no reason to wish an ill willed potty experience towards her but she's everything I'm not, at the moment: poised, well dressed, well put together, and well, let's face it: a young, hot thing. I got her good though... ;) *insert evil laugh here*

I dutifully put my sopping wet Vera Bradley wallet in a produce bag and finish checking out. Anthony calls me back as I'm mid-store. I tell him the whole sordid story and cry some more. Lucky for him, he doesn't respond right away. It's almost as if I can HEAR his brain thinking, "This is funny but do I laugh?? Probably not. She's crying right now and will kill me if I laugh at her drama... Ok, I'll play the comforting husband role instead and laugh at her tomorrow when she's not likely to hit me with something heavy that she purchased."
Intense stress reliever took over as the tears flowed. IN THE MIDDLE OF BIG Y... Great. I'm one of THOSE women. The ones that talk on the phone about their personal life in public and people around her can hear everything. And I'm an emotional one at that. Great. So I finish by saying I'd tell him when I'm home because Miss Thang walked passed my aisle. WHAT?! ARE YOU STALKING ME?!

I went to the bathroom so I could focus on what I was buying and stick to the budget... and I STILL went over budget. Screw this, hellooooo credit card! I was NOT about to go put anything back! Miss Thang ended up in my lane behind me a couple people, I mean, it IS after 10pm on a Friday night and they only have one lane open. Great, she probably thinks she can't get away from this nut job who bawls her eyes out in the public restroom! Of course, the cashier and rest of the people in line are looking at me weird because I have to dig a sopping wet wallet out of a produce bag and then have to PEEL the wet indistinguishable receipts off the credit card... Mortified.

And this was all preparing for the stupid party. This isn't even the story of how stressful it was preparing the day of and how I called Jason asking him to come even earlier. Oh boy.... thank God for good friends who put up with all your crap, LITERALLY! Pun fully intended.

Same Ole Same Ole

It's been MONTHS since I've posted a blog. Isn't blogging supposed to be a daily, weekly, somewhat regular thing?? The answer is yes, it is. I'm not exactly sure what the timeline is supposed to be, I suppose it's different for each blogger.

I haven't blogged in quite some time because I had nothing to say that I wanted in print on the internet. Life was so difficult for me and the PPD wasn't getting any better. I had nothing but gripes, complaints, and misery. Nobody wants to read about rants on troubled marriages, family drama, the difficulties of being a working mom and still attempt to be a wife and my own person. Thus, I resisted the urge to blog. My Facebook statuses have not been so fortunate, at times. LOL

Nothing has changed. In fact, in certain aspects, things have either stayed the same or gotten worse.

While I have come to realize that PPD is not to be used as an excuse for a sucky attitude or procrastinating cleaning the house, I have noticed that even though my baby is going to be a year old next week, I still don't feel normal or the same. For example, whenever the baby gets very sick or has a health issue arise, I seem incapable of doing anything for the rest of the day. Not a single freaking thing. It's like I'm paralyzed emotionally which manifests itself in the physical form of me just vegging out on the couch. It's almost like I feel like it's my fault my kid got sick. Then I berate myself for everything from not feeding him healthy enough food (as if that's possible with all the organic food we eat!) to maybe his coat isn't warm enough (but how is that possible when he sweats soo much?!). Let me expound on the emotional paralysis. It's like I don't care. Something that would normally cause a reaction in you, didn't register with me. Kinda like shock, only lasting a little bit longer. A bizarre sense of an out of body experience, like I'm watching what's happening without realizing it's happening to me. It doesn't happen too often, thankfully, but when it does, it's awful.

I don't have any new insights into PPD. I am just as screwed up as I was. Perhaps this is the new norm and I just need to face the facts. All I know is that I can wallow in my pity or I can trudge on as much I don't want to or feel like it.

My days off, I'm calling my husband by noon begging him to come home. I think the fact that my son acts much more rambunctiously with me than with his father attributes to that. My weekends, I don't feel like taking care of the baby. Some women are meant to be stay at home moms. I am SOOO not one of them. I just told my boss, verbatim, "I just want to say thank you very much for employing me! I am sooo happy to be away from my baby right now!" LOL

One thing I have noticed is that planning some ME time helps me keep my clarity. Scheduling in time without my husband and my baby feels awkward but so needed. It does a world of good for my mind to go and get massage or mani/pedi. It's so important for a mother to be pampered!

I write and confess these things at the risk of sounding like a bad mother, as if I don't love my baby or feel resentful or bitter towards him. That isn't the case at all and I'm sure those that are mothers and spouses of women suffering from PPD would understand.

PPD- Anger

A big realization that hit me in the face at our last counseling session was that I DO NOT have the right to call my husband names, snarl and growl at him, and downright curse him out.

Now, I need to explain this further so that everyone who reads this doesn't jump to conclusions about me...

Some women are super emotional and crying and sad when they go through their Baby Blues or Postpartum Depression. Not me! I get very angry, very quickly! The best way to describe it is like a ticking time bomb or the way that you feel when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed… now multiply that feeling times 10 and that's me on a constant basis. And the counselor guessed correctly when she said, "And you direct all this anger and frustration at your husband." Yeah, I guess I do. 

It's like I have 2 different personalties; like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. There's the me that feels normal, like I did before I had the baby. And then there's the PPD me that screams, snarls, growls, and overreacts to everything- even the small stuff!! The PPD me screams over dishes not being rinsed before they go into the dishwasher, wearing dirty shoes in my house, not using the placemats on my table, not separating the laundry, or rinsing poop stains out of the baby's clothes… stuff that would normally be annoying or that would make you mad- the PPD me gets OUTRAGED, INFURIATED!! And that's not who I am! 

During those times when I'm foaming at the mouth, I usually end up calling him horrible names, saying mean and derogatory things, and scream to be left alone. Then I go off and stress clean. I know I'm doing it and can't stop myself. Almost like my mind is saying, "What are you doing?! You're screaming over nothing! STOP! STOP!" and yet I can't. This is what PPD is. 

Now, it does not mean that every time I am angry, I'm overreacting and unfounded. It doesn't mean that when I'm normal I don't get angry. But I am speaking specifically of the PPD times when I'm so flaming pissed that I could start a fire with my gaze.

The counselor put it into perspective for me. She asked me if I'd ever speak to my friends or family that way. No, I wouldn't do that! She asked me if I would ever speak to my boss or co-workers that way. NEVER!! She looked at me with her head tilted in thought, brow furrowed, and said quizzically, "Then why do you speak to your husband that way?!" Honestly, I don't know. He's there and an outlet, I guess.

In no uncertain terms, she let me know I DO NOT have the right to speak to ANYONE that way, especially my husband. She said that people often times speak to and treat their spouses in ways that are much less respectful than if they were speaking/treating their friends, family, and co-workers. She said that it may be because we feel more comfortable with our spouse so we feel we can "let em have it" so to speak. 

The counselor said it best, "If you talk to your spouse the way you would speak to someone else, there will be alot less negativity coming out of your mouth." And I have to say, I agree! And I'm working towards speaking kindly!

My Cooking/Baking Therapy

The quickest thing I learned about becoming a mom is that NOTHING is predetermined by me!! Everything is on the baby's time; eating, sleeping, pooping, playing, EVERYTHING! I quickly realized I can't even go poo on my own time!! So I'd wait to go to the bathroom until I knew I could pee and poo in peace!! LOL If the baby suddenly and unexpectedly started screaming while I was on the john and my husband came a-knocking, I'd shout back, "Can't a woman poo in PEACE!" LOL ;)

Every PPD woman NEEDS an outlet, for her safety and sanity and those of her family and friends. It can be anything, taking a leisurely shower or walk, scheduling a spa and massage day, shopping, scrapbooking, cooking, baking, blogging, SOMETHING! Whatever it is, make sure you MAKE time to do it. Give the baby to someone else for a determined amount of time and go do what you love!! It is sooo important for the PPD woman to gain back that sense of self she loses when she has a child. That sense of self I'm speaking of is the independent decision making she loses when everything is on baby's time.

Knowing all this, I decided to do something for ME, for no one else but purely for MY enjoyment. And it's become my therapy on rough PPD days. :)

For me, it became cooking and baking. I've been married 2 years as of Sept 6th, 2010. I didn't even know how to boil pasta when we came home from the honeymoon and here I am 2 years later, competent and CONFIDANT in the kitchen! I am sooo proud to say that! :)

Almost immediately after we got married, we realized we were friendless, so to speak. We had moved from Upstate NY to CT and didn't really know anyone. So it became my goal to have people over my house for dinner every week so we could get to know people.So what started as having 1 person come over 2 years ago has now spanned into a weekly Tuesday Night Dinner with 12-14 of us! :) Cooking for The Crew (as we refer to us), has given me reason to learn how to cook and expand my cooking repertoire to fit everyone's taste palates. Keeping in mind that one person is a vegan, one doesn't eat veggies, one doesn't eat pork, one doesn't eat chicken or pork has forced me to get creative at times and I LOVE IT! I've grown to live for Tuesday Night Dinners. It gave me a reason to get in the shower and get dressed, force myself into a good attitude and not bite people's heads off! LOL

I felt most like my pre-baby self when I hosted dinner and cooked enough for an army (did I mention I cook for mostly guys that eat ALOT?!)... So, we ended up hosting dinner a few weeks in a row and I even went so far as to invite people over for dinner other nights of the week, too. It got to the point that I was hosting dinner 3 times a week for a month or two. My wallet didn't appreciate it none but my husband got so sick of the mood swings, he said if hosting made me feel normal then let's have people over every night of the week! LOL

On my most terrible days, I'd look up some (in my opinion) extravagant new recipes to try and head to the store for ingredients then kick everyone outta the kitchen, yelling, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" and whip up a masterpiece! It's become my therapy. The sense of accomplishment I feel when I create something new, from scratch, makes me feel WONDERFUL and PROUD! I get such a great boost of confidence when I taste something amazing I created! But the biggest confidence builder for me is when others try my food and want left overs! As a (at times) severly PPD woman, my self esteem gets very low and I think all the compliments I receive for my cooking and baking is (in part) why I love to do it so much! I feel so good about myself afterwards! Knowing that I can bring a bright spot to someone's day with my food gives me a sense of purpose and in turn, brings back a sense of self.

So whatever it is that you are passionate about, from one PPD woman to another, GO DO IT and do it with pride!! :)

**Mini Cherry Cheesecake Bites pictured below

What the Heck is WRONG with me?!

I've taken numerous pregnancy tests the whole (nearly) first year I was married, mostly just as a sick and twisted joke on my husband. So when I took this one (that ended up being THE ONE), I was nervous like always but overall expected it to end up negative. I mean, c'mon; what's all the nausea, tiredness, cramping, peeing every 30 minutes mean- that's normal right?! ;)


Well, long story short, August 12th, 2010 it was positive!! After 4 hours of bawling my eyes out and scheduling a blood test with the doctor (and crying all over the poor receptionist), I for sure was prego. My husband's brain crumbled before my eyes when I told him and together we felt like life as we knew it was OVER! And, of course, it was. 


After a difficult and stressful pregnancy, many family and life problems, and even purchasing our first home (condo) a week before the baby was born... Lorenzo Raphael Viggiano was born on April 9th, 2010!!


My husband and I experienced all the normal joys of being new, young parents. Our families came to visit a few times and everyone we knew annoyed us to some extent with the "advice." I had no idea why the nurses and doctors kept talking about "Baby Blues" because I never experienced anything like them. For the first month, maybe month and a half, I always had someone with me to help and give me a break of some sort. The first week, my husband took a vacation from work. The second week, he worked from home. The third week, my in-laws came to visit for a week. The fourth week, we went to our hometowns in Upstate New York for a week. 


And then... it happened!!!


By the time my son, Baby Enzo as we call him, was 1.5 months old, I started noticing things about myself: no motivation, easily saddened, lack of appetite, short temper, lack of personal care, anxiety, low self esteem, self-consciousness, trouble sleeping, mood swings, and imagining horrific accidents happening to my family or the baby. I had no idea what all this was adding up to! No one, not a single doctor, nurse, or person I knew had mentioned anything to me about this. I heard alot about Baby Blues but knew I didn't experience any crying or sadness within the first 2 weeks. 


I suffered with all these emotions and feelings (or lack thereof) for about another month. By the time I went to see the doctor, Baby Enzo was about 2.5 months old. I saw the doctor maybe 4 or 5 more times and she basically told me that what I was feeling was soon developing into severe Postpartum Depression and other than prescribing medicine, she couldn't help me.  She said I needed to see a psychiatrist. Way to make me feel like a nutter!


PPD is defined as: A form of severe depression after delivery that requires treatment. It is sometimes said that postpartum depression (PPD) occurs within 4 weeks of delivery but it can happen a few days or even months after childbirth. A woman with PPD may have feelings similar to the baby blues -- sadness, despair, anxiety, irritability -- but she feels them much more strongly than she would with the baby blues. PPD often keeps her from doing the things she needs to do every day. When a woman's ability to function is affected, this is a sure sign that she needs treatment. If a woman does not get treatment for PPD, it can get worse and last for as long as a year. While PPD is a serious condition, it can be effectively treated with antidepressant medications and counseling.


**link posted**


Reluctantly, I tried an antidepressant for about a week and a half. I decided this wasn't for me because I never take medicine and "felt funny" on it. For some people, antidepressants are just what they need to feel NORMAL, like themselves again. For me, this wasn't the case. Each person is different and there is no right or wrong way. What works for some may not work for others. Instead, I've been doing what I can to try and better my physical health by eating healthy, walking, getting chiropractic adjustments, and taking vitamins and supplements to balance the hormonal changes inside of me. To better my mental health and for the purpose of accountability, my husband and I are seeing a licensed marriage and family counselor that my OBGYN suggested. In fact, I will be seeking the medical/professional help that I, as an individual need, by getting counseling on an individual basis.


The most important thought I'd like to leave you with today is that Postpartum Depression isn't a disease and it is most certainly curable! If you are a woman dealing with PPD and feel too ashamed to admit it to anyone, go to your doctor. It is of the utmost importance that the issues related to PPD be addressed and dealt with, not only for your mental health and safety but that of your family and baby, as well. You are not alone! 15-25% of women suffer from the same things you do! Talk to someone, it will help! If you are a loved one of someone suffering from PPD, the most important thing you can do is learn all you can about PPD so you can try to understand and be patient. Your loved one isn't some nut job that belongs in a looney bin, she's just an extremely hormonal woman that doesn't know what is wrong or how to cope, at the moment. Above all else, if you or a loved one feels like hurting yourself, the baby, or other people, CALL 911 IMMEDIATELY! 


http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=26211