Insomnia and a little pink dress

IMG_9275.jpgRonan. I still have insomnia. You would think after all this time my sleep would have gotten better, but it really hasn’t. Every night when I lie in bed, I lie awake for hours sometimes until 2 or 3 in the morning. I still sleep with Poppy. If I am going to lie awake at night, I prefer to do it next to her so I can hear her breathing or I can reach out to touch her warm little body so I know she is still alive. I live for the moments in the middle of the night when she is half awake half asleep and she grabs my face and says, “I love you, mommy.” Also, I don’t want to hear any shit about co-sleeping from anyone because as far as I’m concerned it is the best thing ever and I wish I would have done it with all of my kids. Once you were diagnosed with cancer, you were always in my bed. I wish I would have had you in my bed the years before your diagnoses, when you were perfectly healthy or so we thought. It just would have meant more time with you and had I known our time together was going to be so short I would have co-slept with you and soaked up every second we had together.

Nights around here are rough. My thoughts are still consumed by you. Lately it has been what would 10-year-old Ronan have been like? I wonder what you would look like. What you would sound like. Would your laugh still be mischievous? Would your little voice still squeak? Would you still want to hold my hand and would you still call me mama? Your brothers don’t… they started calling me mom a long time ago. Poppy calls me so many different things. Maya when she’s mad at me(or asshole because I asked for extra spicy). Mom when she’s trying to act big. Mommy when she is scared. Mama when she is being extra sweet and she tops it off by saying, “I know that is what Ronan called you and I know it is your favorite.” Thoughts of you usually consume me for hours at night. I often cry. Or write. And then get up and do laundry because for some reason the sound of the washer and dryer soothe me. I check on your brothers and wander around the house. Sometimes I go into your closet which is now Poppy’s and I smell your clothes. Some of them still smell like you. Or at least the way you liked them to smell which was so clean and fresh.

“Mama! I’m going to wear one of Ronan’s shirts today to school, ok?! Can you come in here! I want to count them.” I walk into your closet just in time to find Poppy pulling your shirts off the hangers one by one.

“One…. two…. three…” all the way until she gets to the last one…”24,” she replies so proudly. Your shirts have been in your/her closet since she was born and she has never asked to wear them. I feel my stomach drop. I try to act all proud of her counting. I try to act supportive of her wearing one of your very boyish shirts. It’s not the boy part that stabs at my heart. It’s the fact that seeing her in one of your shirts is going to emotionally incapacitate me. Just as she takes the one she wants from the pile on the floor, something catches her eye. It’s a pink dress she had forgotten about. “Never mind! I want to wear my pink dress because today pink is my favorite color.” I let out a sigh of relief and gather up all of your shirts on the floor only to hang them back up where they were before. Saved by a pink dress today, but maybe not tomorrow.

I have to work on this book now, little man. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, my love. 

xoxo

13 thoughts on “Insomnia and a little pink dress”

  1. Co-Sleeping is “The Best” and both my college son and Grad school son snuggled with us until they were ready to move out (just before they hit double digits). To this day, they are wonderful smugglers. Enjoy Precious Poppy and know that there are legions of supporters who love you and are on this journey every step of your way.

  2. Thanks for sharing Mama Maya. Brings back so many of memories of my girl 💞They are so heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time ❤️💔
    It’s a total MF.
    Seriously praying for a medical sleep clinic for moms with ptsd induced insomnia. This shit is real!

  3. Oh Maya, so much of what you say is me! I still stay awake at night. I am going on 13 years in November and Alex should be 23 on September 5th. He was 10 when he died and I kept his clothes and clean was his favorite smell. Some clothes are on twin bed quilts but the others my grandsons wear and I love it! It was hard at first but to hear the footsteps in the hallway and see them pass by helps in a weird way. Takes me back. My nieces wear his t shirts from the private school he went to. They were not born when he died but they know the stories from me telling them and they are proud to wear his soccer jersey or shorts. No one knows but us. No one cares but me! This summer I let my grandsons play with all of Alex’s remote control cars and trucks. Baby steps~took me this long. SeSeptember is here…

  4. So happy to see you back blogging. Missed you! So happy you are working on a
    book. I know it’s on my list. Hang on, hang in, enjoy your beautiful family, and know that Ronan is always near 💙

  5. Hello Maya. You have come such a long way, and I do understand how those feelings never go away, ever. I am so happy that you are doing better. Your children keep you busy and that is real good. I will never forget Ronan, he has stolen my heart forever. Take care on yourself, still waiting on that book!!

  6. I am so glad you are blogging again! I have missed your writing! I can’t wait for your book to come out. I remember when I first started reading this blog all those years ago, after my co-worker here in Longview told me about Ronan, I binge-read months worth of blogs in one sitting. I always thought you should write a book someday. I’m so glad you are doing it. I laughed out loud at your stories of Poppy calling you Maya when she’s mad. What a spicy little spitfire you have there! She will grow up to be a strong, courageous, passionate woman who doesn’t take any crap from anybody. Good job mama!

  7. I am sorry that sleep is so hard. I have a trouble at times too (our youngest son, Sawyer, stopped breathing one night – I wish I had never closed me eyes that night. So glad that Poppy found the pink dress. Sending you hope and hugs.

  8. I remember when I first heard the song Ronan, and came across your blog.
    I read everything from beginning to most current in a week. I am SO glad that you are back. Your family is always in the back of my mind.
    Miss Poppy is so beautiful- who wouldn’t want to co-sleep with her!?
    Welcome Back Maya!

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