Fog

My brain is not working correctly.  The stress of having a child who eats things which are not food has caught up with me in the last 48 hours.  I can’t sleep, instead I just lay there and worry. Was it something we did? Was it something we didn’t do?

Logically I know that his compulsive behavior is not something I can control, but I am a person who likes control.  Giving it up is hard.  He is my child, how can I not be able to help him?  How is it that there is a stranger who is capable of giving him what help he needs better than I am?  He’s my baby and it’s my job to keep him safe.  If I can’t do that, am I a failure?  My logical self knows the answer to these questions.  My heart aches under the weight of them.

I watch the clock all night and simply mark the time.  The baby snores softly as his body curls into mine.  My husband slumbers next to me as his toe gently rubs the sole of my foot.  Sleep comes for them.  It leaves me alone.

The fatigue is wearing on me.  My brain will not work at a speed to which I am accustomed.  I think in slow motion.  Circles in slow motion.  My thoughts just loop around on themselves.

Eventually I will find peace or I will wear out.  I pray for peace, but it has not yet been granted me, so I wait.  I wait for resolution or tranquility.  I know one or the other will be mine whenever God ordains it.  Until then, the nights are mine to think, pray, worry, wonder and hope.

It will be as it is ordained to be.  God has a plan for all of this.  I just wish He would give me a hint.