Come to a pity party, won't you?

I mean the day started off rough at 2 this morning, then at 3:30 and then at 6am. I am not really sure what time I dragged my ass (or our asses I should say)out of bed. The clock has not been my friend and I think it is better if we have some apart time. I went to put the baby down for his nap. He was tired but having absolutely none of it. I was getting to the point where it was like, "damn baby, I am trying to read some blogs can you just cool it" except far more resentful than that. So he is fussing it out in the crib and the kinda whiney kvetching becomes real cries, like for reals.
So I spring up to see the baby's eye rimmed with blood. I proceed to lose my fucking shit. I couldn't tell where the blood was coming from and the tears were making it worse, both mine and the baby's. I call the ped. They are on FUCKING LUNCH for an hour. It was 12:36 and I was trying to decide if I should take him to the emergency room. I am trying to comfort him with the boob, but boob has decided to clench up because I am so thoroughly on the brink of a full melt down. Which makes me hate myself even more. Even my own fucking biology is failing me.
At 12:59 I start calling again. I get a person and they say to come right in. I throw on some clothes, because I had the fore sight to dress the baby but not myself. There has been hysteria in the house for the last 24 minutes. I am cursing myself to the sky and apologizing to the baby for having such a terrible mother. I cry the whole walk over to the hospital. I cry in the waiting room while I paid my co-pay. I cried while the dr. cleaned up his eye with WATER.
I feel angry at the baby when we get home. I am considering leaving a dear jon note and fleeing the country. I then recall my passport is expired.
The baby naps for a blissful hour and a half. I cry for most of it. Then I think I should be more pro-active. I start looking up PPD checklists.
I made an appointment for next Tuesday.
Why does nature do this to us? I wanted children, It is perhaps the only thing I ever knew that I wanted to do. You have 9 1/2 months of blissful ignorance, expectation, and wonder. Then BAM you are slammed with delivery - BOFF forget about sleeping - SLAM hormones, when you think you are out of the woods - BASH more hormones.
Goodbye rational thought. Adios thoughtful, intelligent woman I once was. Au revoir intellectual stimulation. Auf Wiedersehen sense of control over anything in my life. Sayonara self respect or decision making skills.

Now I don't write these things to make anyone worry (MW - I'm looking at you.) I feel like as long as I am writing, things are OK, I can vent. If you don't hear from me for a long time then you may worry.

Also I am going to Hotlanta later in May for a few days to see the MIL without jon - Just me and baby. There is a very strong chance that I may be able to sleep for a couple of hours in a row, so that is something.

And I have a GOOD baby. He rarely cried without there being a clear reason. He is sweet and cheerful. He has big smiles for everyone, he couldn't be cuter. What the fuck would I do if I had a bad baby?

Do I have to even remind you that I am going to be 30 in 27 days?