At night, when I finally decide to lie my head down, I struggle to go to sleep. My mind wanders to what I should be doing with my newborn at that time, how my life should be different, and reliving all the awful details of a day that should have ended differently. Even on my "good" days when I don't really cry during the day, tears come pouring out once I hit the pillow.
Sleeping doesn't seem to be any better though. When I finally drift off to sleep after hugging my pillow and crying, I have terrible dreams. I have dreams about what happened to my sweet girl, dreams about other babies that look so happy while I'm desperately looking for mine, and dreams about how lonely I am. I wish I could have happy dreams about my sweet girl, but I'm stuck with these dreams that just beat me back down into this pit that I'm trying to climb out of.
Waking up from these awful dreams doesn't bring any comfort either, it just serves to remind me that my reality is just as awful and cruel as those dreams. It's a struggle to face a new day without my baby girl. I know I must try my best to face the world with a positive attitude but how the heck is that possible when the one thing I longed for so much this entire year has been viciously ripped away from me?
I go to sleep with a headache and a heavy heart, and I start each day the same.