I wasn’t expecting it to come back. I figured we had moved past this. It’s like an unwelcome visitor that shows up unannounced, unpacks their bags and settles in. I want it to go.
My insomnia is back. You would think that having a 7 month old that doesn’t sleep would be able to cure my sleepless nights. I cannot remember a night where I was asleep before 12 or where I got more than a 2-3 hour stretch.
I thought I was over this already! I thought that I had moved on, but I suppose that with grief or PTSD you never really ‘move on.’ It’s just more of the same.
Someone was holding my second son and telling him all about his firsts. How he would walk and talk and how 2016 was going to be amazing for him. This was all said with so much love and hope. All I could think was, will he? Is his future any more guaranteed than mine? Than his brothers was?
Dark, right? Awful, terrible thoughts. I had thought that 2013 was going to be amazing once upon a time. I had expected that my first son would learn new words, might hop on a tricycle or sing his ABC’s. That never happened.
As I watch this little man grow, I hate that these thoughts even enter my mind. I have hope for the future, I do. I want to think that things will be amazing and that I will grow old alongside my husband and children. These thoughts are like my insomnia, unwelcome and unconstructive, but won’t go away.