Get Over Yourself

Thursday, May 7, 2015

The other day I woke up with the feeling of someone pushing their fist into my left temple. I could literally feel the blood pumping through the veins in my face. A migraine. Freakin' awesome.
I haven't had one of those headbangers since before I had Lucca. I used to get them so badly and so frequently that I took medication every day just to prevent one from happening. I stopped all those medications when we were trying to get pregnant and I (thankfully) haven't had to use them in a long time.

The return of what I like to call the "head gremlins" was freaking terrible . The screeching, the barking, the crying, the beepy toys, Caillou and Mickey's annoying ass voices coming from the TV, an occasional block or two thrown at my face-- it was hell. All I wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position. Whenever I tried to do this though, Lucca would crawl over to me and say, "No. No piw-wow, no bwankie". Come on, kid. Give me a break. My head feels like it's being smashed in and now you're stealing my pillow? Where's the love?

I waited for as long as I possibly could to call for reinforcements. I wanted to be able to handle it. I'm supposed to handle it. I don't get days off. I had to power through. I thought if I could just wait until naptime, I'd be okay.

But no, I wasn't okay.  I texted my husband and asked him for help. I needed just a few hours to crash and close my eyes and hide under the covers until it passed. Thankfully, he came to my rescue to work from home while I recovered.

I emerged, disoriented and covered in drool, a few hours later. The babe was asleep, Greg was furiously working in the kitchen, and I was already feeling guilty for not working myself. I thanked him, told him I could handle the rest of the day, and worked until Lucca woke up from his nap. I quickly got over my work guilt when I realized I couldn't stare at the screen any longer. That's what sick hours are for, right? SIGN OFF.

This was the first time that I really felt helpless and guilty from just not feeling good. I felt like shit, but a part of me felt like that didn't matter. This is my 24/7/365 job. My job is to take care of my son and work at the same time. Keep it together, lady.

But you know what? At the end of the day, I wish I had called earlier, got over my mama bear pride and took some time to myself to rest and recover. Because if I can't do that, what good am I?

So for future reference: get over yourself. It'll work out. The world will not end. You're allowed to feel like shit every once in awhile. Take a break.


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