Last week, I spoke to my doctor about everything surrounding our current miscarriage situation. She was nothing but supportive and caring. She reminded me that, while my baby had passed away in my body, it was still important that I not neglect myself. She reiterated that I need to keep myself healthy, even when I feel miserable. Its SO easy to just soak in my own misery, but that doesn’t help anyone. Not my family, or myself. Dr. Guselle gently offered to send a prescription for something to help me sleep. I thanked her, but said I was not above taking a gravol or something to help me feel a bit more drowsy. She okayed that, and said again, its very important that I sleep. And I agreed.
As timing tends to happen, when all of this was going down, I came down with a nasty cold. So considering there was no longer a living being inside my body, I decided to take NyQuil overnight, to help with my cold, my body pains, and inevitably, my sleep. I’ve been taking it since that day, and I’ve been sleeping pretty well, considering both the meds and the general emotional/physical exhaustion aspect.
Yesterday, I pushed myself and went to the Kids Club kick-off night. Brady and I were both feeling pretty drained, and we knew kids were definitely allowed to just be dropped off. However, Laela declined fast in the evening, and wasn’t able to go. And we knew Dekker didn’t want to go completely alone if he didn’t have to. Yesterday was also a day where Brady hit a wall. He is strong for me 100% of the time he can be, but as we all know, everyone eventually hits that wall. And yesterday evening, Brady hit it hard. So I ended up going. I was a complete mess, with lumpy hair that had been in the same ponytail for five days, in the shirt and hoodie I had worn for the last five days, with very little energy or enthusiasm. Thank goodness, Dekker was happy to have me there, and we moved slowly from game to game, and snuggled together when we were all sitting and listening. It was nice, but it was a stretch.
I came home completely wiped out. I hadn’t exerted myself, but I was just shot. Completely. Brady had run me a bath, so I soaked for a long time, and dozed off a little bit while we watched a show. We called it quits around 11:30 maybe. I was so tired, I didn’t take any medication.
And I was up. All. Night.
No word of a lie. Not a wink. First I was kind of hot, and then I just couldn’t find a comfy position. I tried to lay still and prayed for sleep. I closed my eyes and listened to the fan. I intentionally didn’t watch a clock or play on my phone or anything of the sort. My mom always told me that would make it worse, and she was right. So I dutifully lay in bed, rolling over and over, trying to get there. I held out for way longer than usual, it felt. I finally gave in and checked my phone for the time, thinking I would maybe go find a gravol or something to get at least some sleep. But it was too late. It was 4:30am.
I spent the next 2.5 hours wrapped in my own special form of anxiety. I picked fights with people in my head. I panicked about things I’m falling behind on. I went over and over some of the injustices of the last few weeks and wished I could change the past. So basically, I just stressed myself out for nothing. Even in my anxiety, I reminded myself that my anxiety is always worse when I’m overtired, which I obviously was. I knew I’d feel better after literally any sleep.
But sleep did not come. My eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, when my alarm went off. True story, today might be really interesting. But its just me and the two littlest ones until Rowan gets home from preschool. Then lunch (which was brought to us yesterday by a loving friend) and nap time, which I hope very much to partake in today.
Cold or not, you better believe I’m going to be taking some kind of gentle sleep aid tonight. Will not be doing that again.