Yesterday was a really interesting day for me. I woke up at 10, had no motivation to leave my bed, went back to sleep, and woke up at 1, again with no motivation to get up and moving.
I literally stayed in bed until almost 5:30, when I was essentially forced into getting up to eat dinner with my family. Eat! haha. Yeah, right. More like push food around and take a couple bites to appease the parental units. Then back to bed.
It was the strangest sensation, this bout. I haven't felt that way in years, not since losing my baby. But this was different. There was no rhyme or reason. I just wanted to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling, and maybe cry a little. It hurt to move, it was too much effort. And I had no idea why! Maybe because my boyfriend mentioned his friend's daughter's first birthday is coming up? Isaac would be almost 2 now, I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I can't imagine how different my life would be with him in it. Realistically, I probably would have stayed with his father, though now I realize that he was borderline abusive and that wouldn't have been healthy. Would I have ever started this relationship with Andrew? That's what I think about most. I hope so. I think he'd be a good father figure for my son.
But that's life. It obviously was meant to be this way, and I'm as happy as I possibly could be about it.
