Last night, as I was laying in my bed with a very fidgety L who was refusing to sleep, I started thinking about my last post. Given the sleep deprivation, I was chock full of angst and feeling quite sorry for myself so I am trying to keep that in perspective.
The truth of the matter is that I do not want more friends. I have lots of friends. More friends than I can comfortably manage, actually. I prefer to maintain 2-3 really close friendships and see those people every other week or so. (Unfortunately, not all of my friends prefer to hang out that much, so I have to be flexible and have more friends on hand than I prefer.) I also have a decent number of acquaintances or friend prospects.
Friends are not my real problem, though I wish I could see and talk to them a lot more. The lack of friends is an easier fallback complaint than my real problem.
The real problem? I am in Baby Jail.
We are about two months into my incarceration and the walls feel like they are closing in a little. The realization that I will not be getting my old life back anytime soon (if ever) is starting to sink in. I spend a lot of my spare time thinking about my old life: running to starbucks unimpeded by buckling several shorties into carseats, free time to run on the treadmill every morning, the time to make dinner that included both a main dish and at least one side dish, meeting a friend for coffee in the evening and sleeping with no small person kicking me while tossing and turning.
Yes, those were the good old days.
It is strange because my longing for those good old times makes me feel lonely. So lonely, I have found myself getting weepy with longing this week. Ironically, despite my lonely feeling, most of the things I miss most about my old life involve me being left alone. Right now, I am very rarely alone due to the 20 lb warden who is always within about a 10 foot radius of me.
BABY. JAIL.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that being in such close proximity to L is very important. But sometimes, a person just gets TIRED. My normal fatigue has been compounded by the fact that I have been sick since saturday. My body is rebelling against the constant demands for attention that both L and M are making on me. My body is crying uncle because my best efforts to meet the needs of both L and M fall short of the mark more often than not. I feel a little guilty and sad for not quite being enough for them, but too unmotivated and worn out to do more.
By tuesday, I am counting down the days until friday. By thursday, I am counting down the hours until Mr. A will get home friday evening. My week is full of calculations about how many nights I can order take out to avoid cooking with two kids underfoot. My weekend is spent trying to sneak away to have a few moments or god forbid, hours (!) alone preferably in the car, listening to sane grown ups on NPR.
The only upside to this? I know it will pass.*
I have been in Baby Jail before and I survived. M will go to full time kindergarten in 16 months. Eventually, when she becomes a toddler, L will cut back on the time she spends trying to suck out the very core of my being and will be distracted by playdoh and finger paints. M will resign herself to recieving less attention than she had before L came home. L can start part-time preschool in 18 months. They will get bigger. It will get easier.
It will get easier.
_________________________________________________________________
Before 800 people email me to tell me I have post-adoption depression: Let me assure you, I do not. I am not really depressed, I am tired. I am lonely. I am overworked. I am not depressed.
Also, for the record, I am not looking for a solution to this problem. I know I just have to wait it out.
And, for what it is worth, I still stand firm in my conviction that the person who sees my Asian/hapa kid and approaches me at the grocery store, is just about the LAST person I want to hang out with. That person has already failed my level one friend screening test.
Okay, I won’t tell you you have PAD. (I’ll just mention that lonely, tired, isolated, and overworked can transition into depression pretty damn quickly.) I do remember the days of Baby Jail very well, and I did not like them. Being the sole source of everything for a small, self-centered creature is just exhausting in every way. Can you get one of your friends to take M & L for a day in the middle of the week, while you just go away & be by yourself? I know that attachment purists frown upon something like that, but just having a break now and then can help.
Hell, I’ve been out of baby jail for years, but I still remember how isolating it can sometimes be. The hilight of my day used to be a new Pottery Barn catalog in the mail. The best news is that you already know all the assvice I could possibly offer – This too shall pass, and one day you will look at your teenage daughter and remember the baby days wistfully. But part of you will also remember what a damn trial they were.
You are completely right, it will get better.
Yeah – Baby Jail. Know the feeling. Can’t wait for it to end.
And I’m the lucky one, I’m the one who goes on business trips, etc. My wife is the one who is even more affected by it. I try to give her evenings off where I take the twins and she gets to hang out with friends… I hope that helps. Maybe it would for you, too.
Yes, I know all about baby jail. Ugh.
It sounds like what you really need is a break. A babysitter for a couple of hours, maybe? I know the baby needs you near, but it’s so hard to take care of everyone else when you are emotionally and physically depleted. Hope you get some rest and time away sometime soon.
Re: the grocery store thing. I was thinking the same thing when that commenter sort of went off on that. People come up to me with stupid disability questions in the grocery store and I deal with that. But stranger who comes up to me when I’m obviously busy and the first thing out of their mouth is nosey disability stuff? They failed the very first admissions test. No, thank you.
Now that she’s 3, I call the kid who used to be my warden “The Boss.” Last summer when The Boss was 2, before she started a two morning per week preschool program, I was literally counting down the days until preschool started. Like crossing the days off on the calendar with a red Sharpie counting. When I dropped her off the first day of preschool, I’m pretty sure some other moms were hanging around outside the classroom and quietly weeping because their babies were growing up. Me? I was out the door and in my car in a flash. I was smiling. I had FOUR WHOLE HOURS ’til I had to pick her up. That, my dear, is exactly what is going to happen to you. Tie a knot in your rope and hang on.
I was on maternity leave for 1 year after we came home from China with our 1½ year old. I secretly called her the Klingon (and not because of her looks). Her sitting next to me on the floor was just too far away for her. And my hubby was working full-time and writing his thesis at home. I walked around the house with her in a baby carrier. Hell, I decorated the christmas tree with her in a baby backpack. My only break was 1 hour alone in the bathroom about every 3-4 weeks when I pampered myself with Body Shop products and dyed my hair. I just had to remind myself that she so desperately needed me, and now we have a tight relationship. But yes, there were many times that I was on the edge…ready to crack any second.
I don’t really have any assvice except that a coconut bodyscrub feels and smells good!
Hang in there and try to pamper yourself.
-violet
Wow, that’s well-expressed. Down to the idea you don’t really need advice. I remember that. I have considered in 20/20 hindsight whether I had PPD after my daughter was born. And although I may have, I think acknowledging I was lonely and I was mourning my pre-baby life is a completely true statement. I have to say you are giving my pause. We’re trying for baby #3 and I am afraid I am glossing over the baby jail days…
Good luck!
simon was 4 1/2 when i had greta. i had been experiancing the freedom of having an older kid for a little while when greta came and took it all away. i totally mourned the loss of freedom. i don’t know which was the worst part: the naps that force you to stay at home, or the clingy-ness that comes with a baby. or the lack of sleep. or just all of it. i still don’t run in to the starbucks that’s right by my house because there is no drive-thru and i’m not messing with the buckling/unbuckling that is the carseat. so i feel ya. it’s so much better now that she’s 2 1/2, and only taking one nap, but holy crap come fall? she’s going to preschool, and i will be free for 2 hours twice a week!
Know ALL about baby jail — 3 times over as the bio boys were just as klingon as the adopted daughter. Mother’s helper?? And takeout 5 nights!!! It is worth worth worth going into hock not to have to make dinner!
DS-L
ooooo…. there is a girl in my neighborhood that does the mother’s helper thing. i would totally trust her with my kids. let me know if you want her name and number. you know, for this summer when m is out of school and you are going even more crazy.
You should leave the kids with your father inlaw during the day. There’s a pretty good chance they’ll come back unharmed.
When L is ready for a little more mommy separation, you will get some time back. I know you know this. Baby Jail Sucks. Been there Done That Twice. Suckage….
THinking of you and if you’re ever this way, I would gladly meet you for coffee
I used to feel frustrated that my husband couldn’t really understand how I could feel so freakin bored and yet so overwhelmed by house stuff. My oldest was 2 1/2 when my son was born and Husband was at the Defense Language Institute learning Korean, so he had no time to do much besides army stuff and study. I remember sooo well counting down the hours til he got home. I think I burst into tears when he walked through the door once, handed him the baby, and locked myself in the bedroom with a book for a few hours.
Sometimes, in my personal opinion, it’s not about wanting more friends…but friends in the same space as you. I know that when a woman moved in across the street from me on the military community and she wasn’t this strange army wife I had nothing in common with, but a mama who freaks like me and misses adult things and whose kids ran around naked like mine and didn’t have a clean house either…well, it made a world of difference. I could haul the kids over and at least we could talk and laugh while the clingy chaos continued. It’s important to kind of have the same style…or lack of hang-ups, maybe. I couldn’t have felt comforted by the solidarity if she had been a woman terrified of a juice spill or worried about a million other little things that I don’t.
Oh, you made me smile with the bit about being in the car listening to NPR. I have Spouse’s old iPod with multiple episodes of This American Life always at the ready in case I get to make ‘the great escape’, as my SIL called it.
And the other lifesaver is the discovery that my 9-yr-old can go in and order my coffee while I stay in the car with the twins . . .
I think it is very brave of you to admit to BABY JAIL. It’s real. And I know my sister had it. And as much as I think I am prepared for it, I do not think you know until you are THERE in it.
I applaud you for admitting and acknowledging it. I think people think because you work so hard on adoptin everything should be flowers and bunnies after adoption and it’s. not.like.that.
I hope yo try to schedule yourself some time at least to do something for you (besides your blog.)
[...] But then we always have to remember, Baby Jail. [...]
The commenter from before reminded me of a story that a friend with twins told me. The saw some kind of professional while she was pregnant, who gave them tons of information on multiples support groups and play groups and other resources. She meant well, but after they left, my friend’s husband said, “Are our kids only going to be able to play with other multiples?”
I think there is a way that one can take on the characteristic that makes your kid different and make it your and the kid’s identity in a way that is not healthy for the kid. (I suppose this is kind of obvious.) Anyway, just to say I get what you and Lisa are saying.
I totally know where you’re coming from. I continue to spend some time mourning my past life with NO kid at all. I miss lazing about on the couch and wasting time.
And I am not making any suggestions, but I went back to therapy. I feel much better most of the time now.
I got a 2 hour pass yesterday. We had dinner with real cutlery, fancy food, and no sticky hands all over me. Alas, we had to go back home in time for bedtime, but that 2 hours… bliss!
AmFam said, “Ironically, despite my lonely feeling, most of the things I miss most about my old life involve me being left alone.”
Oh my god. You have summed up in two sentences the exact feeling I have been trying to articulate for about 3 months now.
I miss being alone. Not alone 24/7 kind of alone, just alone for an hour or two a day. Right now, I’d give a lot for 30 minutes of alone time – I feel selfish wanting that, it’s nice to know I’m not the only person who feels that way.
Gretchen
BABY JAIL. What a great term! Love it! I got out of it for a while… but now I’m back in.
So normal. I feel that way too, hey it’s only expected. You’re right it will pass, and you will be wanting these days back.
Sometimes I forget what it felt like to be in Baby Jail and then I read something like this and it brings it all back to me. I swear, I have the sweats just thinking about this since (knock on wood) I’ll be serving another sentence one day.
The grocery store thing–my take on this is that if someone doesn’t even know your name they don’t get to ask weird personal questions. End of story. It’s like when people ask me where I’m from before they even know my name (and the answer they’re looking to hear is not any place in the U.S.).
Yes
Amber, I really didn’t mean to cause such a stir with my comments to you about meeting other people. If I offended you I really am sorry. I don’t see you as a person who minces words and I just wanted to give you some food for thought. I wouldn’t suggest that you wear a “ASK ME ABOUT MY ADOPTION” t-shirt and I don’t think you should ever make yourself available for rude and *inappropriate* comments or questions from complete strangers. I have ONE friend with an adopted child who I met while out and about. Unless you work at the grocery store, it would probably be a little weird if most of your friends are people you met there. To me, it’s all about balance and I wouldn’t automatically dismiss someone just because of the location where we met if they were kind and respectful and seemed interesting to me. For the record, I am not a member of FCC, I don’t belong to any Chinese-only playgroups and my daughter and I don’t wear matching Chinese clothing. I think being a mom is a tough job, especially in the depths of baby jail, where you find yourself now. I’ve been there with 3 under the age of 5 at one time and I understand where you’re coming from with that. I misinterpreted your question and thought you were possibly looking for like-minded people in a similar situation. I wish you the best of luck and again, my apologies for offending.
Shari
Just keep on keeping on…it’s hard…but at some point, you will get a break. Sending some ju-ju your way…
Wow! Thanks for speaking my mind. I was talking with a cousin the other day and expressing everything that you said (although not as eloquently) and she suggested drugs for depression. I said, “Really Holly, I’m not depressed. This is simply where I am in life. I’ve been here before and it ends.” She was so sure that it still equates to depression. I’m with you though, it’s not depression. Just a very, very tiring phase of life. A season that passes.
We’ll break out eventually.
Thanks for the read.
~Traci
i am just an occasional lurker, so i hope you dont mind my two cents. i remember those early years and they were hell. however, soon enough you may be missing L at this stage. dont know if that makes it any better. just a thought.
You nailed exactly why I’ve been waivering on baby #2.
I’ll hang around to see how it turns out, though. Maybe it’s worth it, huh?
Thanks for pointing me here. Yup, this was exactly the post I was looking for.
[...] parents overnight 1 or 2 times a month and it has been heavenly. I survived and I am NO LONGER IN BABY JAIL! HALLELUJAH!! (And if I ever had any doubts about going for kid #3, rereading that baby jail post [...]