Last night was a rough night.
I laid in bed frustrated, wide awake, crying over the fact that I survived this week without my love. I didn't want to.
Praying for my 4-day-old niece who is not doing well.
And wondering why. Questioning everything I used to know to be true. It just doesn't fit with my life now. I don't understand why Jer's family can't catch a break right now.
When I finally decided to try and give up to sleep, I rolled over to hear my sweet Faith gagging. I put my hand on her face, only to catch her vomit. So, for the next 3-4 hours, we were up, back-and-forth from the bathroom. My little princess is actually very sweet when she's sick, like she tries to make me feel better. She doesn't want to scare me or something. But I couldn't sleep cause every time she stirred, I shot up to make sure she was okay.
She finally fell asleep around 5am or so. I tried to redirect my thoughts to a new house and decorating things I want to do when I move, but the afterthought was always 'who really cares when Jer isn't here to enjoy it with me?' Losing him has sucked the joy out of literally everything.
When I finally dozed off, I met Jeremy in my dreams. I had been waiting for him for 49 days now, hoping he'd show up and offer me some subconscious comfort, tell me it's going to be okay.
But no. In true Jeremy fashion, he showed up with a big smile on his face, laughing at me after my nephew had peed all over me. Oh, but it was good to hear his laugh, I've missed it so much. It was the kind of laugh that made his face go red, and I can't help but join in.
Then almost as quick as he entered, he left again. I jumped in the shower to clean up and asked someone to hand me Faith, so I could clean her up as well. Everyone in Jer's family looked around at each other, then at Jeremy, and he shrugged sadly and said "I'm sorry, I know I'm normally the one who would do that." I saw agony in his eyes.
Tears welled up in my eyes, he was gone and I was awake. I tried so hard to close my eyes and find him again, but I couldn't. So I just laid there in misery. Thankful that I got to see his face, his smile, but aching knowing I never get to really see it again.
I know he was wanting to help, and couldn't. I know he would never leave me alone to fend for myself. My anger is never aimed at him, my sweet love. I know he would have never left me or his babies. It was like a precursor to the biggest nightmare I have yet to face: having his baby without him. I know he wouldn't have missed it for anything in the world, he never even missed a single prenatal visit I've ever had. And yet, I picture him standing in the distance, sadly shrugging in agony, wanting to help.
I hate waking up to a reality that is worse than a nightmare.