Sher Bailey is a writer in the Midwest who believes the power of humor, Mod Podge, and grandkids can fix most problems in life. You can find her at SherBailey.com.
I made it through the first week of Guy being moved to the night shift. We have been able to see each other for a little over an hour every day before he leaves, and we can talk once on his 9pm break, in between that we text message. The first week went by better than I had expected. I really tried to train my brain that he was going to be gone and that I would be okay, but the minute his car left the driveway I cried. At that point I didn’t feel scarred about being alone, I felt sad that he was leaving our routine to start a new one. One which involved him installing seat belts in the middle of the night while I was asleep in the bed he should be tucked away in. I felt completely overwhelmed, unequipped and inadequate to have my shit together and take care of Matthew. Luckily, that night my sister-in-law, Matthew’s mom, decided to come stay the night and has moved the last bit of her things over to our house.
That first night I slept surprisingly well. I woke up to look out the window because I heard a noise only once. The second night I slept the same, and was determined I could do it. Like I wanted to win the sleeping war. This week though, has been different. I think last week I set out to do what I had to do and this week I am already starting to fail. I feel sick of it already. I just want my husband back. I have woke up throughout the night more times than I can count and toss and turn and check the clock.