Sleepless Mama

Why are the mornings such a bitch?

This morning I woke up early, took Hubs to work. It sounds like a simple procedure when I phrase it like that I know. In reality though, it is a multi-step process that can go horribly wrong at any moment. That moment being when the babies wake up before I am ready for them to.

First, I have to manage to get out of bed without waking either child, it involves the nursing yoga (please see #10 here) on an extreme level since both children are extraordinarily clingy in the morning. If they wake up with me then I have to find a way to hold/comfort both while also getting everything I need to leave the house. Because Lord and Heaven both forbid that we make it half way to Papa's work and one or both of them realize they are hungry, then in turn become hangry. That is just a miserable path for everyone, an apple sliced, granola bar of some sort, or some version of food has to be brought with us.

If I do manage to make it out of my loving bed without a baby, then I have my usual program of dressing, brushing and searching for the lost one shoe I would like to wear. After that its hopefully looking at the clock to see if I have enough time to start a pot of coffee, or make a shake. Which I usually don't. Move on to starting the car, and loading the snacks, shoes and blankets; because they both stay asleep with a blanket draped over their laps for some weird reason that I just don't question. Finally, grab my lost shoe I found in the front yard and load up (hopefully) sleeping babies.

Make it to David's work before traffic hits horribly then once reentering said traffic on the return home it become like a trip to Mordor. When we are stuck in the tunnel and I'm trying not to imagine the walls caving in and water crushing us all, my kids like to keep me distracted by informing me they either need to poop, dropped their breakfast snack and need it five seconds ago, or just want to ask life changing questions like,"What would happen if the water were to get in the tunnel?" and "How do they keep the water out of the tunnel?" and "What happens when it rains?"

By the time we get home both babies are up and bouncing happy to be out of their carseats, and have had a full twelve hours of rest like any normal night. I on the other hand am dragging ass having stayed up until one writing here, or watching some mindless non-child show just for the sake of it.

I am sure that later this will be hilarious to look back on, but right now I am just really fucking tired.

How does everyone else deal with no sleep and bouncing children?

Materialistic Items

This is a trigger warning for loss, if you are unfamiliar with them it is used to alert people when an internet post, book, article, picture, video, audio clip, or some other media could potentially cause extremely negative reactions (such as post-traumatic flashbacks) due to its content (Urban Dictionary).

Just don't look and pretend its not there. Just don't look and pretend its not there. Just don't look and pretend its not there. Just don't look and pretend its not there…

This happened to be my mantra the first day we returned home after a trip to see family over the holidays. A trip I won't every forget. I rode on the airplane down to the SouthWest pregnant elated to share the news with our loved ones. I rode the airplane back up to the East Coast desperately trying to distract my brain from the pain of the miscarriage so I wouldn't be openly crying in public.

Walking into our home was bitter sweet, I was very ready to be able to be in a private sanctuary where I could deal with my emotions. I also was dreading the small reminders of our lost babe every where.  A tiny stocking, a ornament, and then of course the three posative pee sticks I still had were like bombs randomly placed throughout the house.

Less than twenty four hours into being home and I was acting like a nut avoiding my sight from those bombs. I avoided them like they might detonate if I thought about them. Of course when the boys fell asleep and I was alone with them and realized I was acting ridiculous. I also realized that I wasn't looking forward to Theo asking about the baby when he saw them.

Placing his hand on my belly, "Why isn't she in there any more Mama? Why did she leave? Where did our baby go?"
Tears streaming from my eyes, "I don't really know and I don't understand either. But I know that her body is back in the earth and her soul is with God. Maybe the baby will come back to us when it is ready this time."
Wiping my tears, "I miss her too."

We had that conversation, or something like it, almost everyday since I started bleeding. I just wasn't ready to discuss it again with him, especially without David home to help me.

Swallowing my crazy I gathered the only materialistic items I had left that represented our lost baby. Once I had them I realized I wasn't really crazy I was just still grieving.

I couldn't throw any of it away, so I hid it in a drawer. Maybe one day I will be able to look at them and not cry but today or tomorrow aren't those days.