Relapse

Well, I haven't posted anything in a month. I was doing good and feeling like things were getting better, so I just didn't feel like I had anything to talk about. Odd really. Why can I not talk about the good things that are happening? I'm becoming increasingly depressed again. I think it started about a week and a half ago, just after Evan's check-up. He isn't putting on weight like he should and dropped down to the 10th percentile in his weight. The very next day I found out that a friend of mine's son (who is 6 weeks younger than Evan and was born well over a pound smaller) was weighing more than Evan. I know you're not supposed to compare your child to another because they are all different, but it just made me so upset. Why does he have to be going through all of this pain and suffering? It's not fair, he's just a baby. I, again, have this overwhelming since of helplessness. "I must have done something wrong. All of this has got to be my fault. It's a result of my bad karma." All of these things, and more, keep running through my head. Against everything I believe in, we started him on cereal, already, to try and help him gain weight. I feel like I'm shouldering everything all alone. I feel like I have no support and no help. Eric keeps promising to do things to help me, but he never seems to get around to it. If does, he either waits until it's too late or half asses it so that I have to redo it and end up just telling him not to bother. I really just don't understand why he is doing this to me. I've told him over and over how much I need his help and that I can't do this on my own. I don't know if he just doesn't care or just doesn't understand. I get up early every morning so that I can get ready first, then I get the kids up and ready before we leave. Eric has to be up and gone even before I'm supposed to wake up in the mornings. But thanks to his lack of preparation at night, most mornings he wake me up way too early when he is getting ready. That doesn't even take into account however many times I may have been up through out the night with Evan or Sydney. Then I miraculously make it to work and through the work day. After work I pick up the kids and come home only to spend the evening cleaning, feeding Evan, taking care of dinner, washing bottles, doing bath for Sydney AND Evan, reading Sydney her story and putting her to bed, feeding Evan again and putting him to bed, repacking bags for the next day, getting my clothes ready for the next day and plenty of other things that would continue this list for a long time. All of this done only to have Eric come home sit in the couch, ask "what's for dinner?", and complain about the things I wasn't able to finish doing. It just really hurts my heart to feel like I don't enough and I'm not appreciated for what I do.