Alone

I've pointed out on various occasions that we have sleep issues at our house, well, I guess with the exception of all the boys. The big boys sleep in the basement and presumably sleep fine and Ryan has slept alone in his bed since about a week after we came home from his adoption trip in July. So I guess in all fairness it would be more accurate to say that the girls have sleep issues at our house.

I have tons of back posts addressing this. My bed seems to have revolving door and although that sounds kind of sexy it is most definitely not! Julia, then followed by Jenna. Jenna when Julia's not home. Emma since she came home from the hospital last November and it was easier to make sure she was still breathing in the middle of the night not to mention giving her the multiple bottles she began to consume. On occasion, Ryan will sleep there if he's feeling left out or not feeling well.

I actually have rules for sleeping in my bed. But the rules invariably fail. In China this summer I slept with 3 children in my bed-- not conducive to a good nights sleep. (If you want a good laugh, be sure to check out the last link-- multiple photos from various nights.) However for the most part, its only Emma and I in my bed. This past fall whenever I tried to put Emma in her crib she flipped out, completely hysterical and I could tell it was fear and not "I'm want my way NOW!" so a few months ago I changed her baby crib into a toddler bed. That helped but her bed is in the same room with Ryan and I found if I put them to bed together in the same room they would have a gab session which consisted of conversations that went like this:

Ryan: Ah, gibber, gibber, Emma, gibber, gibber

Emma: Ah, ah, ah, gurgle, momma, momma, momma, ah, ba, ba

Eavesdropping on that didn't produce much inside information. And they also didn't go to sleep. They would talk to each other forever, so Emma ended up back in my bed.

This past week Emma, being the adventurous and rebellious child that she is, has decided that a bed can't contain her awesomeness. A couple of nights this week she decided she wasn't quite ready to go to sleep and she got out. Now you have to understand, I have a monster bed. Its a king size bed (purchased after Darrell died and I usually had multiple children in bed) and its high off the floor. So the first time she got out I was downstairs and heard a loud THUD and ran up to find her toddling around my room. Great. Next night, repeat. And then again Thursday morning. This had become a dangerous situation so I decided Friday night to try her back in her toddler bed.

Last night everyone got ready for bed, I put Ryan in his bed and sat Emma in the toddler bed and she had an amused look on her face. I gave her her bottle, covered her up and turned off the light and waited. And waited. No talking from either one of them and soon they were asleep.

Success!!!

No more tiptoeing around my room and bathroom when I went to bed. I took a long bath and got my pajamas with the help of a lamp so they actually matched! Then I climbed into bed reveling in my genius. My bed was empty. Finally.

I moved towards the middle of my bed and lay diagonally, sprawling my arms and indulging the complete freedom to lay any way I liked. Suddenly my tears began to flow and memories began to rush back. Darrell would get out of bed in the middle of the night and return to find me laying diagonally in the bed and he would have to nudge me back to my side so he could get back in. But when he was in the hospital after his accident I didn't lay spread eagle. I lay on my own side, respecting his, waiting for him to come and claim his space. But he never did.

I am alone. I said to myself for the millionth time and for the millionth time I tried to remember the night before his accident almost 3 years ago, laying in bed with him, spooning with his stomach to my back. Some nights I pretend he's still there and I can almost feel him. Almost.

Most days I make it through the day all right, some days I don't. But most days my children fill my day with love and happiness. Its the darkness of night, when the world is shrouded that my loneliness flows back in like high tide on the beach rushing in to claim its place. Every night I know its there waiting for me. I used to dread it and now I accept it as the inevitable occurrence that it is. But my heart still aches, no matter how used the pain I have become. And I wonder. Will I always feel so alone?