People. It’s back and worse than ever.

The f-ing mastitis.

I tried to be in delusional denial Monday evening thinking the body aches and chills were simply a figment of my imagination. By the way … anyone out there remember that Figment ride at Disney anyway? I can still see that purpely dragon in my mind.

This is because Brother 2 had a Figment obsession and proudly displayed his big stuffed Figment animal on his bed. Stealing him was the only leverage I ever had when we had a fight. I’ll have to look and see if that ride is still there. Ah. Good ‘ol Disney.  

I’ve spent the last few days in a delirious state — running way too high of a fever and barely able to care for FOH, with the exception of feeding him. Thank the good lord that our families are here and I’m able to call Brother and say things like, you have to care for my child because I can’t right now. 

The last two days I’ve spent at my MIL’s house sleeping and pumping bottles for her to give. If it’s one message I’ve received loud and clear this week it’s: SLOW THE F DOWN.

I’m starting to listen. I know, took a while. The mastitis was a little bit of a drastic measure from The Universe but I’m trying to look on the bright side.

The bright side is:

1. Slowing Down.

2. Sleep.

3. I can still feed FOH.

4. I can’t stop breast feeding FOH with mastitis.

This last one is possibly my brightest of all because I think I just might have given breast feeding the finger by now. But that’s not an option when mastitis is present — it’s critical to keep the milk moving and flowing.

Definite blessing in disguise.

I’m hopeful I’m going to get to the bottom of this bullshit next week … I have an appointment with Children’s Hospital’s lactation specialist who will be able to run a culture on my milk.

This way we’ll know what specific strain of bacteria it is causing this cluster F in my boobs and what course of treatment will be best. She’ll also be observing a feeding, i.e.: more People who are going to see my boobs. Where was I on that count? I think I might be going on 16 now.

People. I’m having a hard time. These last seven and a half weeks have been the ultimate combination of the longest and fastest of my life. I can’t tell you anything about May. I don’t really remember it.

I consider this a very positive thing because when I try to remember, I get bits and pieces of May-Me who was on the verge of tears constantly — just trying to hold it all together as best I could.

Life seems to be blending into one big fuzzy blur and where this might have bothered me before, Now-Me is fine with it. Since Now-Me isn’t so sure she wants things to be clear at the moment.

It feels easier to me to make it through this time with it being hazy. Any clearer and it might be too painful.

I’m trying to be a good mother. A good wife. A good friend and sister and daughter and I end up feeling like I’m half assing all of it and am too tired to put forth more effort.

Higher Self, that beautiful voice of reason and reassurance tells me that this is but a short moment in my entire lifetime. It will be gone before I know it.

But that feels like bullshit, because this is my everyday and that really does seem never ending. Though I know it’s not true. Right when I reach one ending point, there will be another beginning ready to start.

I guess I’m just ready for the next beginning.

Pray for my boobs. Thanks.