I cuddle children who need cuddled. I talk with those who need to talk. We remember Micah. Sometimes we talk about heaven and the afterlife. Sometimes we talk about the future. Sometimes, we just sit and someone cries (sometimes them and sometimes me). In addition to this, I have been cleaning and purging my house. Micah took SOO much of our energy and focus, but he also took much of the space in this house. Bit by bit, I move things out. The children want me to move much faster, but it already feels faster than I'm comfortable with, so I tell them to slow down. I am also preparing to be descended upon by nearly two dozen friends and family who will stay here for Micah's Celebration.
So, during the day, I have plenty of things to distract me from my grief and emptiness reaching a crescendo that I cannot manage. I sit and space out quite often, but there is always something I need to move onto, something that must be done, something I must given atention to. There is never an end to the need to live during the day now.
It's the nights that are different. In the nights, there are no pressing needs to attend to. The children are sleeping. Occassionally one shows up in our bed, but it's not every night and all they require is for Daddy to cuddle them. Daddy has done the nighttime parenting our entire our marriage, so they don't even look to me for that comfort at night. I cannot do improvement projects. I cannot purge the house in the night. The world is still. So, I try to conquer the nights.
It's not working. I cannot sleep anymore. I toss and I turn and ultimately I wake up in panic because I forgott to take care of Micah that day. Sometimes, I can calm the panic and try to go back to sleep. Sometimes, I cannot and I give up on sleep entirely. Whatever I do, it doesn't make the nights any easier.
My sister suggested I try high dose melatonin with high dose benadryl. She forgot to warn me that melatonin and alcohol should never be mixed. So, the experiment was an abyssmal failure. High is only a polite word to describe the reaction in trying to sleep last night. Prior to the benadryl, I was completely incompetent. Afterward, I actually have memory losses, but no knowledge of actual better sleep.
Tomorrow, I am calling my doctor. I need something to help me sleep. Right now, I can function. My grief is present and palpable but not dysfunctional. I fear if I coninue to be as sleep deprived as I am, I will shut down. So, I will ask my doctor what my options are (and refrain from asking my pediatrician sister again who so clearly forgot to warn me that as a non-pediatric patient I needed to abstain from the alcohol with the melatonin). I don't know what relief he can offer me. I simply know that I must sleep or I will not function much longer.