My parents took Rowan to church with them this morning.  I’m home alone, save for my Grandma, who will sleep the morning away.  The past four days I have been plagued with a migraine, cold-sweats, nausea, and exhaustion so severe, it’s worse than having a newborn.  I don’t know exactly what’s going on, and needless to say, tomorrow I’m going to go see my doctor, and get myself checked out.

It’s been an amazingly hard few days.  My poor little boy has kind of been put on the back burner.  Well, not really, Bapa and Nana have occupied him, and I’ve sat with him for hours, half-aware of the books we were reading, and the movies we were watching.  We’ve built towers with me laying on the floor, and colored on the bathroom floor, so I can be near the, um, amenities.  I feel horrible and guilty and like I’m depriving my son of his mother.  If the migraine doesn’t kill me, the guilt will. 

I’m being forced to dig deep, put my head down, and just plow through the pain.  It’s hard.  It’s really, really hard.  All I want to do is curl up in bed, cry, or stand in a hot shower for hours.  Those aren’t really options though, so my days have been dragging.  I’ve been going to bed when Rowan does, but have been unable to sleep soundly.  It’s just awful.

I just feel miserable and grumpy and helpless, and want to get back to our normal, lovely, happy life.  For now, it’s time to take advantage of my solitude, and rest.