Restless

I've been having trouble sleeping lately.  Not because I haven't tried: I've exercised (ok, maybe too close to bedtime, but not usually), reduced my caffeine intake, journaled, prayed, talked to my hubby.  One night, I even took a sleeping pill.  Being a pharmacist myself, I am well aware of the addictive potential in these seemingly innocuous pills.  I was willing to try anything, however.  I discovered I'm not a fan of the after effects - dizziness, grumpiness, grogginess - the following day, even though the pill isn't supposed to remain in your system that long.  So, no easy answers here.

I am like a little processing plant trying to process where we are.  And where is that, you ask? In the land of We Cannot Have Children.  We can always attempt to adopt, but that is a separate issue.  For now, I may as well be wearing a sign on my head: "Mind Full: Grieving Miscarriages and Childlessness."

I won't always feel this way.  I keep telling my hubby and parents: one day, I'll get better.  I won't hurt this much.  But for now, keeping my head up takes all I've got.  Going to the gym takes God-strength.  Learning our new computer system at work makes my mind fuzzy. Driving past the fertility clinic makes me feel wistful.