Two years ago a phlebotomist came into my room at 5 am. She inserted a needle into the crease of my elbow like someone had once every few days for the last two weeks. I was amazed they were still able to find a vein. Nothing stands out about that particular needle stick. It melts together with all the rest of the early morning wake up calls that involved someone standing over me with a needle and vacutainer.
My village. My friends. My family. I’ve talked and blogged about my village ad nauseam. If I ever win a major award I won’t have to write a speech, I can just go copy and paste.
I probably won’t remember this.
The soft fuzz of your head tucked under my chin as you nestle yourself closer against my body. The faint smell of milk and your mouth opening as you try to find your way.
7:30pm – Put Rowan in the swing. Turn it to level three, turn on the music, turn on the lights and mobile, stand on one leg, wish on a star, and sell my soul in hopes he will actually fall asleep.
I haven’t slept for more than three straight hours in eight months. I’m being held together through sheer force of will, caffeine, and napping in toilet stalls. Sometimes I forget what I’m doing – while I’m doing it. Why am I in the kitchen and why is the cat in the refrigerator? Did I say cat? I meant toothbrush. Sometimes I mix up words. I have a yoga mat in my office that is only used for corpse pose.
I’m mostly doing a decent job of being a person who is, you know… awake. But there are some things that I am just not capable of dealing with right now.
December is the time for every news outlet, blog, and radio station to cash in on rehashing the last year’s worth of content. Seems like as good a place as any to start this blog.
I just realized how inexplicably sad I am for a past version of myself. I look at the pictures of me pregnant and just think, “You. You have no idea.” I want a time turner or a TARDIS so I can go cross my own timeline and tell that version of myself that it is all going to be okay. Excruciating at times, but ultimately okay. I’d like a future version to come confirm that, come to think of it.