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Sunday, July 23, 2017

Spring 2013

Continuing from the last post...

I had known that being pregnant at age 36 would be more difficult than the ones when I was 28 and 31, but I had no idea just how difficult.

I was exhausted - all.the.time. I spent most of the day sleeping. I had no appetite, and little energy. Being off my ADHD meds made things worse. I was prone to anxiety and every little thing sent me into a tailspin. Especially once Dovi had his burn incident and the subsequent social services snafu, I stopped trusting my parenting. If he had the slightest hint of a scratch or a cough, I became hysterical and made a doctor's appointment immediately. The problem was, I didn't feel physically up to taking him to the doctor anymore, so the onus always fell on my husband.

In addition, Dovi's incessant need for sensory input and an endless craving for food - mostly ice cream - worsened the ever-present mess in the house.

Shabbos was the hardest. I had no full-time aide at the time -- a fact that still boggles my mind -- and I had no one to turn on his dvd player, blow bubbles for him, or do the many other things that kept him busy and out of trouble.

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