So I’ve calmly explained to my family that my child needs to eat all day.
And then they wonder why I’m suddenly screaming full bore about how they need to eat.
It’s day 3 of them not having an appetite. It’s a fact toddlers do this but mine absolutely CANNOT do this.
They have failure to thrive and we’re in the closing stages of a child services investigation. I’ve successfully brought them home from foster care but our battle isn’t over. The state is going to continue harassing us, even after the case is closed.
I can’t afford my child losing any kind of weight. They have to eat and if it’s nothing but junk food so be it. I’ll fix their eating habits later. Our family dynamic depends largely on their weight.
I’m currently expecting another child because I’m going in the right direction but I could lose this child too if things suddenly go bad again.
I lost my child for 2 reasons. They have failure to thrive and I have mental illness.
After a decade of treatment I’ve learned to accept it and at this point doctors have literally told me I’ll never get better I can only manage symptoms.
So come postpartum I will lie about how I’m doing and pray to God my children grow at a normal rate. They need to stay with their parents. Foster care outcomes are terrible.
There’s a high possibility that I won’t make it through the depression aspects of postpartum if it’s bad again. I’m ok with that, especially if it means my kids can stay with their biological families.
I’m sure this raises the question “why have kids then?” as many of the readers here probably already bad days, months, and years come and go. Not trying at all to have the life I always wanted would most likely be more damaging then trying and struggling or completely failing.
My family made sure to remind me how my mental illness is a problem. In their eyes my child’s weight had no role it’s all my fault because I can’t get “better”.
I don’t know anymore. Maybe they are right. Maybe my problems are all because I’m “sick”. Maybe things will never get better for anybody near me until I’m gone. Maybe they’ve been right all along when they say my child would be better off in foster care.
I’m having Braxton Hicks or real contractions right now from being so upset. I can’t tell. I didn’t have normal labor with the first. Clearly I’m so messed up I hurt my kids before they’re born.