Despite my blog title, I'm not a superhero. Despite my own beliefs, I'm NOT a superhero. I'm not, and I have to tell that to myself.
The past two days, I've had a headache that can be described as somewhere between "maybe it's a tumor" and "OH GOD KILL ME PLEASE!" I get migraines, so I'm used to dealing with these, but I'm not used to them last overnight. This one did. This one lasted through a desperate attempt at Tylenol with codeine at 1AM. This one lasted through the night, and at 7AM, I did what I so rarely do: I called my parents and begged for help. Actually, I didn't have to beg, they came over within 35 minutes of my calling. I felt like a failure, lying in bed with both boys. I knew they both had wet diapers, but I couldn't even sit up to change them. And while there are worse mothers in the world--far worse--it was awful for me.
My parents came and changed diapers and pitched in while I slept. When I woke up, my mom was ready to take me to urgent care, but I chased the headache enough away. I'm still achy and a little lingering headache is still there, but I'm better.
While lying there in pain, I realized that, you know, I just had a baby 7.5 weeks ago. I realized that I never gave myself time to recover. I didn't. I had such an easy birth and such an easy physical recovery that I jumped back into working out, going out, cleaning, and all of those things that maybe were too much. I like doing all of those things (okay, except cleaning), but I need to step back, I think. I never like to have people over because my house is not very big and I have to clean it and it's out of the way, but maybe I need to do things like this more often. And maybe I need to stay in my pajamas more often.
Because when I think of how poorly I've taken care of myself lately, I want to cry. When I think of how I make sure Luke gets three meals a day, but do I ever? Or do I just snack as I go along? And when was the last time I took a vitamin? It's true that with the second baby, you don't get the help you did with the first. We didn't get nearly as many dinners or house cleanings, and that's completely okay. But what's not okay is that I took it on myself to make up for all that. What's not okay is that I should have spent so many days lying in bed with my new baby, and instead, I pushed myself to a point where I have headaches that don't go away and jeans that are too big and I'm so tired that I could fall over at any minute and I'm still finding it so hard to just take a deep breath and let it all go, to let myself just sit still and just BE.
Because even now, as I'm typing this and brushing at tears, I'm eyeballing the kitchen table that needs to be cleaned. It'll still be messy in the morning, though, and right now, I'm going to give a kiss to the two year old that's still awake... and then I'm going to snuggle down with a sleeping baby. And starting tomorrow, I'm going to work on recovering.