As of last Friday, I thought I was clear on the thrush. Since then, I’ve avoided major backtracking, but have taken some small liberties with my diet. Just yesterday, I took Willow to the pediatrician and didn’t mention the thrush, since I thought it was pretty much taken care of.
“Are you sure it was thrush?” the pediatrician asked, and though I wanted to strangle her, she did make me doubt myself for the slightest moment.
Now I think it’s back. The redness is just too red and I’m starting to feel burning again. I want to cry. Instead, I bought a cupcake with icing and scarfed that down, followed by five blocks of Trader Joe’s milk chocolate. My God, if weeks and weeks of treatment won’t work, at least I can have some forbidden sugar.
It wasn’t very enjoyable and felt more like a binge. I know that tomorrow I’ll have to go back to the restricted diet. There doesn’t seem to be any other choice. I have to get rid of this, sometime, somehow. While I thought the madness was winding down, now it seems I’ll face several more weeks of it. I’m starting to feel discouraged and depressed.
This evening I ate my dinner in a corner of the kitchen, on the floor. Everyone else was in the living room, so it was quiet and I could eat undisturbed. Mark came in and laughed.
“It’s only one step from this to a closet,” he said. He’s been fantasizing lately about being able to spend a day in a closet. I thought a day in a spa or a beautiful site in nature would be preferable. A library might be nice. But a closet is looking more and more attractive. Especially if it doesn’t involve vinegar rinses, exposing nipples to sunlight, strict dietary regimes, clothes washing rituals, the need to constantly respond to a baby, and a toddler that is whining and demanding more than usual.
Yes, there are certain changes I should have made right away and my slowness in doing so is one reason we’re still struggling almost 11 weeks out. But I’ve really been giving it my all in the past few weeks. Not only am I constantly denying myself, but unbelievably, I’m gaining weight in the process. Fat, thrushy, cranky, tired and frustrated. Tonight is not a good night. I wish there was an end in sight.