Sinking

I try not to think about the things that make me sad for fear that I'll fall into a deep depression. But, once in a while, these feelings consume me and I start to feel as if I'm suffocating.

I hate where I live. I miss San Diego so much. I miss my old apartment, my friends, my blm support network, the ease of getting around... I feel so guilty for having these feelings. DH is working hard, long hours and I know there is a lot of pressure on him, as he is the sole breadwinner now. And, I live in a gorgeous apartment that is costing us a ton of money. But, I really hate it here. I really struggle with the idea of having to make our life here.
*If you know where I live, please don't mention the location in the comments. Thanks.

Nora is a horrible sleeper. Again, I feel terrible for saying that out loud. She is perfect and beautiful and healthy. And, I'm so fortunate to have a living baby here in my arms. But, 7.5 months of sleep deprivation is waring on me. On a good night, she wakes up at 1 and 4 am. But, most nights, she wakes every 1-2 hours. And, when she does sleep, I can't sleep because I'm a shitty sleeper myself. I spend her short nap times pumping because she's refused to nurse during the day since she was 3 months old. My blm friend Karen says they didn't use sleep deprivation as a medieval torture technique for nothing. She ain't lyin.

I don't have any help. And, I don't trust a "stranger" to watch her. My in laws live about an hour away, are in their seventies, and work part-time. They drive me nuts anyway. They spend each visit speculating as to why Nora is so fussy all the time. "She's hungry, she's tired... teething... her stomach hurts... maybe because you're breastfeeding...how long are you going to do that, again... don't you know such and such mom... don't put her on reflux meds... watch her... she shouldn't do that..."

I'm still angry at my mother. She's been trying to reach out to me and every time I hear from her, I carry a pit around in my stomach for week. I have no interest in a reconciliation which leaves me feeling guilty. But, she chose some dude she met at yoga over her children. She left me when I was grieving and beginning a difficult pregnancy. She allowed this dude (whom my siblings and I refer to as Satan) to email us about them being naked together and smoking pot on Christmas Day (my first Christmas without Ella).Nice, eh? I swear I don't make this stuff up. She allowed her fake lawyer friend to speak litigiously about us and send frivolous law suit threats our way. Again... all while I was grieving and constantly enduring the worry of losing another baby. She wasn't there when I was hospitalized, when Nora was hospitalized... She should be here sharing this little girl with me. She should be here to help out when I'm tired or need a break like most mothers do for their children.

And, most of all... I miss Ella. I still have moments where I forget that I have another baby. A dead baby. I can't shake the feelings I had the night I lost her. The days following her death...