Standing on the Brink

My baby is here. She is beautiful. I have spent the last week in new baby bliss being spoiled by my husband and holding a sleeping newborn. It's wonderful. I love being a mom.

I've looked around the house this last week, and realized, without a doubt, we have a lot of kids. A LOT of kids. I'm holding one, watching my toddler destroy anything within reach, listening to my preschooler screech at his kindegarten age brother and older sister to PLAY with him. PLEASE! And it hits me. We have a LOT of kids. It is a lot for me. I think it is all my brain can handle. Actually, I think my brain could only really handle two, but because of my blind faith, I have stepped out into the unknown and very scary prospect of having a large family. Now I know a lot of people with four to five children, but I don't know any that get stressed about things like I do. I don't know any mentally crazed and depression challenged women stepping into the over stimulation and nerve sizzling arena of oodles of children. This is where relying on my Heavenly Father has come into play. And just plain audicity to DARE my head to mess with me! Lots of prayers.

Although I am not feeling the crazy crankiness of post-partum depression just yet, I am waiting for that foot to fall. We have had a lot of changes as a family lately, and I am almost sure, in my head, that the lunacy of post-partum depression is going to return. And I don't know why. I am in a better place than I ever have been. I have friends to call on the phone, I am making new friends here in my new town. I am taking my vitamins religiously. Like medication almost. I'm getting the rest that I need. Yet I feel unsettled and afraid of myself. But it's all in my head. And I have bravely been talking myself out of it. As a reader, you may be shaking your head and saying "Get help you insane woman!" But really, I am happy. I am in a happy place. There is no physical evidence to my being nuts. In the past, I knew I was going crazy because everything drove me to anger. But there is an undercurrent of peace in our home right now. How long will it hold? Will I be able to hold down the ship for the next year without losing my mind?

In a year my baby will be almost walking. The newborn and infant stages will be over. The most heinous sleep deprivation should be in the past. Can I hold on to my sanity that long? Will we make it through?

So what evidence do I have of waiting for the foot to fall? Hhhmmmm....well....I have trouble falling back asleep when waking up to feed the baby. I'm afraid of knives. I'm afraid I'm going to drop the baby. I'm afraid I'm going to trip and fall and break my fragile beautiful precious baby. I'm afraid I'm going to drop her over some stairs. I have a fear of open stairs I think. Is there therapy for that? Open staircases? I'm also afraid I'm going to forget she is in her carseat on the floor one day and my toddler is going to carry her off and drop her down the stairs to the basement just like all his other toys. All these silly things. It's all in me head. It's all in me head. It's all in me head.

But my biggest fear is of the SNAP. It's happened before. And I'm sure it will happen again. I SNAP. Everything is going fine. I'm handling the pressure. I'm in a stressful situation, and so far, so good. And then somebody does something and it triggers something and SNAP. I go beserk. I yell. Very loudly. I spank. I stomp off and slam a door. I get very very very ANGRY. And in 5 minutes, it's over. And the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins. And I'm breathing hard, like I just ran a four minute mile. And I feel guilt. Sooooo much guilt. For yelling. And spanking. And making my kids look at me like I'm a monster, with horror, and fear. The guilt from the snap makes me feel like a load of pooh. And I tell myself that next time I won't snap. If only this were different, or that were different, I wouldn't SNAP like a lunatic. But I do. So maybe I need anger management.

How do I keep from snapping?