Day 3

Something you have to forgive yourself for.
This brings me back to the long list of things I hate about myself. I can certainly hold a grudge, but usually I don't hold them against myself. I'm torn here between two things I need to forgive myself for.
The first one may seem petty to some; but I'm seriously disappointed in myself. I reached my goal weight and instead of practicing self control, ate peanut butter eggs until I put half of it back on. How sad is that; 15lbs of peanut butter eggs. Disgusting! Its a lot harder the second time to get it back off. Its hard to get back into habits and every time I get dressed in the morning I'm reminded of how annoyed I am at myself that my cute size 6 clothes don't fit, that my 8's are too tight and I am now wearing a 10. Frustrating.
The second thing, is heavier on my heart. Its part of my whole separation anxiety with Caden. I think back to when he was born; and how easily I was persuaded to stay in Faribault to recover from my section when they took him to Childrens. Why, because I love my doctor but MOSTLY because, I'm cheap, and I couldn't stop thinking of how much extra it would cost for me to take an ambulance up to the cities. There were a few other reasons I let them convince me and they turned out to be invalid concerns. But money was the biggest. Hindsight is 20/20 because his helicopter trip and hospital stay were enough to use up our max spending, so mine wouldn't have made a difference. So instead I spent 48 hours without him. Then when I got there; because I was recovering from a c-section; I choose to go home at the end of the night and sleep in my bed instead of on that horrendous brick couch. Looking back; they surely would have sent him home a day earlier if I had just stayed, or fought for him in some way, but because I didn't they probably though I was a shitty ass mother. And honestly; now I feel like one. Did I mention how the first two days he was there, he didn't have a first name. I'm sure that made them think he was even less loved. It wasn't the case, but I know how it looks. Your probably thinking that I'm worrying what others think again; and no I really could give a shit less what they thought of me; all I care is that they didn't let me take my baby boy home even once he was well, they wanted to watch me with him another full 24 hours. Its my biggest regret, not that he had to stay, just that I didn't fight to be with him that week.