For the last five days or so, I’ve had a really hard time sleeping at night.
For whatever reason, my brain has been on overload. Being back to work, still adjusting to David’s new schedule, and over thinking infertility has kept me from a sound sleep. I’ve averaged no more than 3-4 hours of sleep a night lately. I’m tired, I’m irritable, and my stomach is in knots.
Over the weekend, I started to feel a little sick. Just a minor cold, but enough to further exacerbate the situation of sleeplessness. I finally gave in and took nighttime cold medicine, in hopes that I would drift off into a deep sleep last night.
Of course it didn’t work.
I went to bed at 8:30pm (early) but after tossing and turning I was back downstairs to watch TV at 10:30pm.
I went back upstairs at 11:30pm, and lay in bed watching the moon though the blinds. It was so bright, it almost seemed like the sun.
I thought about everything.
I just couldn’t turn it off.
I thought about my job. We had a re-org while I was gone, and my job didn’t change… but I was shifted into another division. Major shifts like this sometimes are the harbinger of bigger shifts. The economy is tanking big time, and my company is one of those stocks that everyone watches. Uncertainty in our stock spells doom for the blue chips. I am preparing for the worst.
I thought about S.’ job, and how uncertain his job is also. And how much he hates it now. How I wish I could just wave a magic wand and get him a new job he loves.
I thought about my RE appointment tomorrow. I thought about the questions I want to ask, and the questions I am fearful to ask.
I thought about money, or the lack of it in the household. I thought about medical bills and utility bills, and tuition, and the credit card bills, and David growing so fast out his clothes, and how badly I need new shoes, and tons of other random, trivial crap.
I thought about God. Yep, I did. With David now attending a Catholic school, we’ve been making an effort to start talking to David more about religion. He is learning prayers at school. We’re trying to get back to church as a family on a regular basis. Trying to connect spiritually with something… anything.
But there’s a problem. My faith has been wavering lately. And the more we open up our lives to this, the more I am becoming angry. I am angry at the the injustices of the world. I am angry that a parishioner lost a 6 month old baby boy last week. I am angry that God has the audacity to give many of us MUCH more than we can handle. How can this be? How can this be right?
By 3:07am, I was still up and still thinking, and worrying.
At 3:17am, I went to the bathroom, walked back to the spare bedroom (as to not disturb S.) and sat with a tissue box in hand. I was so congested I couldn’t breathe.
At 3:30am I pulled the blanket up over my head and started to cry. I don’t know where it came from. I cried as quietly as I could. I didn’t want to wake S. or David. All the while inside I was screaming like a banshee. If I had been alone, I sure I would have screamed out loud. I cried for at least 20 minutes, and then I propped up my congested head on four pillows and stared blankly at the window.
At 5:42am I heard S. get up to take his shower.
And it dawned on me I never went to sleep last night.