It was a good day today. I went out to eat with Joseph. I talked, via one method or another, with all three of my traveling children. I counted the days and realized Nicole will be home in less than 90. I got some work done and I cuddled on the couch with Joseph.
And yet, it is 2:30 in the morning and I am still up because I hurt too much in bed to fall asleep. I get on the edge and then move a leg and get a cramp or it just hurts enough to wake me up. And I start all over again. The bedroom is airy and fresh with open windows. My music plays softly on the pillow speakers. The blankets and pillow are familiar and comfortable. A man I absolutely adore spoons me from behind and his presence relaxes, comforts, and soothes me.
Yet, it is still not enough to allow me to let go and sleep.
I am so, so, so tired of this pain. Of fearing rolling over because I will awake either with pain or a cramp. Of never, ever, ever going to sleep and sleeping through until morning. In a few minutes, I will take a bigger pain pill and give it some time to kick in before tiptoeing back upstairs to slide into bed and try again.
How ironic it feels to be this tired of something and yet sleep eludes me. Counting the hours til March 18 and I get some answers. Thanks for putting up with the complaining in the meantime.