This is why I don't bother telling my husband how I'm really feeling. I've been dealing with the baby most of the day today and he is outside snowblowing. He is very particular when he snowblows and it takes him fucking forever to get it perfect. Well the peep was fine we were playing, now she needs to be fed and my anxiety is spiking. I don't have my new meds so I can't take anything and I just went outside and asked him if he was almost done because she needs to eat and I'm feeling anxious. He said "give me 10 minutes, I just want to finish up making it perfect." Ugh. I mumbled that I didn't think she'd wait ten minutes and now I'm back in here feeling like a loser that this is so difficult for me. He just doesn't get it and I don't know how to make him. I don't fully get it myself.
Update: I ended up starting to feed her, when he finished he took over, I snapped a bit at him, he got pissy back, we realized the pharmacy was closing in 45 minutes so I booked it out the door. I got my meds, picked up something for dinner, and now we're going to facetime with my mom since it's her birthday. I took an ativan right away (well half of one, they are freaking tiny) so I'm hoping that kicks in soon. I'll be having a talk with the big bird after I calm down more, maybe when the baby is asleep.