Where Did the MoJo Go?

I have a vivid memory that sums up my early introduction to parenting; I was soaking a 3 or 4 month old baby Ben in an oatmeal bath at an ungodly time of day, likely around 3 in the morning. He had the worst eczema I had ever seen before or since, on a child. It bled, oozed infection, was raw and painful and covered his whole body. It was an early sign of the allergies he would be later diagnosed with. It began after we started vaccinations (not a coincidence) and got worse until we realized it could be controlled through diet. In that desperate time we tried steroids, every cream at the drugstore, probiotics, different formula, and anything else anyone suggested. We saw specialists, pediatrictions and naturalpathic doctors with little improvemement. The only thing that offered temporary relief from his screaming early in the morning when the pain flared and itching became too unbearable for his little uncoordinated hands, was to submerse him in oatmeal water until he was so exhausted he could sleep. And then so could I. After I cried.

This particular morning, after weeks of no sleep and debilitating worry, I had to lay him on the floor on a towel because my arms and hands were shaking so badly I was afraid I would drop him in the water. He, by the grace of God, didn't cry when I put him down and I sat on the toilet. My head bobbed as I tried to keep my eyes open; Ben and the towel seemed to rise up and hover in front of me. At least 4 feet of the ground my small wet son was floating. I blinked, scratched my eyes and reached out to touch...air. I could see what I couldn't feel.

hallucinating. I was so tired I was hallucinating. I didn't trust myself to drive after that, or walk up and down the stairs with him without gripping the railing. I was really losing it.

That was tired.

I am tired now, but not THAT tired. That was the kind of exhaustion I wouldn't wish on even my worst insomniac enemy...or the kindred spirit of another Mother up all night with a sick and suffering child.

But I am still tired.

I am used to having lots of energy, projects, ideas, inspiration; get up and go.
Today... we have spent the majority of the day on the couch. I just finished watching Ben stuff glutton free animal crackers in all of his stuffed animals mouths at their picnic (that I orchestrated from the comfort of the butt grove of my couch). I spent this lazy lazy day then making a schedule for the transition challenged two year old with pictures and then went on to make one for myself, making sure to schedule in my work out that hasn't happened yet ("6 weeks postpartum ubntil working out is advised"...blah blah blah...I saw myself on the monitor of the baby camera and thought who is that fat woman in my shirt...in my son's room?! OH! it's me. (See I AM tired...) I really need to get on this...and off the couch.

I need my Mo Jo back.

Have you seen it?

I might be sitting on it...