Living With a Nightmare - An Open Letter to my Wife. -
Over the past two weeks I have been living with a nightmare. It’s not you, it’s not T, it’s me.
I’ve been a royal pain in the backside – not just for you, but for me. I’ve been stressing myself out over the smallest of things; such as getting the washing done and making the most of our time, and it’s probably stressing you out. I’m sorry.
This time is meant to be a time where we’re relishing in the fact we have a son – and we are relishing, a lot, but I’m still also expecting to carry on as we were before and as expected, it’s not happening quite as planned.
Long before T even came along I’ve always struggled with the thought of being looked after – my mum raised me to be extremely independent. I’m happy to work as a team when it comes to big tasks like DIY and gardening, I just hate not being able to do simple tasks or anything at all for that matter. So when T arrived and I was pretty much useless to anyone because he required almost constant feeding, it was up to you to do the majority of the cooking, washing, and general organisation of our day – and I hated it as I had no control whatsoever. I also couldn’t offer anything back. Before, I would cook and you would wash up, for example. Simple. Now you’re doing everything and I feel rubbish about it. I’m not the super wife I expected to be. I expected to be able to feed, cook a meal, eat it, and then maybe feed again – who was I kidding?
Please don’t take this as me sounding ungrateful, I appreciate everything you do, I’m just finding it very difficult to cope with being off my game. This week I’ve cooked half a Thai curry, been half dressed most of the time, got piles of washing prepared but never been able to put them in the machine. There’s a basket of clothes that still requires putting away, and washing up that’s still soaking but not completely washed – all because someone needs a feed. I’m not angry with him, honest – I just didn’t want our time remembered by me just being a milk maid and you being the maid. I hope you understand. I know it’ll get better eventually or I’ll get used to it – this is what every new patent goes through. Hell, we’re not even a month in yet! I guess I just expected a lot more from myself.
I know I have no choice, he needs feeding – so I have to stop. You tell me every day that I’m being silly, that we are a team, and that you couldn’t care less about who does what around the house, and I believe you, honest – I just don’t want to accept it. I want to be able to do so much more. Our friends have accepted it, they automatically knew to contact you instead of me as they knew I would be occupied with T. The only person who didn’t know this or want to accept it was me. I’m sorry.
Every time I have a mini meltdown I promise myself to chill out, but I need to start promising you. Maybe it’ll actually take effect. So…
I promise to just let you look after me (without complaints).
I promise to not let the little things bother me anymore. There are bigger things to worry about – about 9Ibs worth.
I also promise to accept that whatever I can do/provide would have been my very best (even if I have only accomplished cooking beans on toast).
I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done over the past two weeks – You’ve helped me and been there in more ways than I can tell you and for that I will be forever in your debt.
You are a wonderful mumma and an amazing wife – I’m so very lucky to have both of you in my life.