Two nights ago, Lis woke up at 11:30, 12:00, 2:00, 4:30, and then finally, 6:30. She proceeded to essentially repeat that schedule last night.
I tell you that so you understand why, at the office today, I rested my head in my hands, and my mind wandered. I didn’t fall asleep, I didn’t doze, but I briefly hit that state where you are only semi conscious, but still able to move, sit up, etc.
I tell you that so that you understand I wasn’t having an actual flash back, or an actual nightmare, but it was like I was suddenly back at Lis’s surgery day. First, I was there, handing her off to the nurse to take back to the OR; then I was there, waiting, pacing, sitting, thinking; but I was also there in that ICU room, watching my daughter swell up until her face had no features, and her nose was barely distinguishable.
Those are the only moments I remember seeing before I jerked myself back to reality, but by then, I was heaving and unable to catch a breath. Trying to calm myself down, I looked at my most recent picture of Lis on my phone.
I was planning on working from home anyways today, so I packed up and headed out. On my way home, I swung by the daycare. Lis was sound asleep, so I scooped her up and settled into a rocking chair and rocked her for twenty minutes. She slept the whole time, occasionally wiggling her fingers or making guppies motions and noises at me with her mouth. She drooled on my blouse; I kissed her cheeks and tried not to cry.
Nothing like that has ever happened to me before; I mean both the vivid memory moment and the surgery. The times where I have felt most (I don’t know a good word for it, so this is my best stab) haunted by this surgery are the times when I am running on the least amount of sleep. When I am rested, it doesn’t wander through my dreams, through my day dreams, and through any in-betweens. But when I don’t get a good night’s sleep, it’s night mares or whatever this was, all the time.
Is lack of sleep a trigger? Am I just better able to deal with (read: suppress) my emotions regarding the surgery when I’m rested? I wish I knew. Because now I’m tired, weepy, and have a headache from it all.
Okay, fine, you can email me at graceandpressure [at] yahoo [dot] com. Don't all flood me with emails at once, you know. If you're emailing about craniosynostosis, put it in the subject, and I'll respond quicker. Deal? Deal.