No sleep is normal. Sigh.

I saw my GP this morning for a check up. I told her I haven't been sleeping. She told me I had every reason not to be able to sleep and that sleeplessness is a normal part of the grieving process. I know that is probably true, but I'm not sure how to handle the practical problem of being perpetually awake while I wait for this symptom to pass. For one, being over tired and feeling under the weather makes me even more sensitive than usual so I can't tell how I'm actually feeling - upset or tired, depressed or tired etc. Then again, the daytime feeling of tiredness is much more preferable than the night time feeling of sleeplessness. It's so lonely at 1 or 2am. Even Peppy is fast asleep during those witching hours. Our house is too small for me to be watching TV without keeping Leslie awake. Nothing seems worth reading when I'm sitting in the dark and can only think about death and the pointlessness of everyone's existence.

I showed my doctor the results of all of the tests that were done in hospital and she agreed that they were somewhat inconclusive on whether the apparent infection they found in fact caused me to go into preterm labour, or whether I went into preterm labour and as a result acquired a bacterial infection. It's the old chicken vs egg scenario, and there's no way of getting any conclusive evidence either way. She said that it might put my mind at rest to be tested for evidence of any remaining bacteria or infection so I consented to  what I guess what a pap smear where they would look for evidence of pretty much anything - chlamydia and bacterial vaginosis, particularly, which are very common. She's pretty sure it'll all come back negative, but at least I will then know for sure that I've got a clean slate, so to speak! The good news is that my uterus is looking in good shape and has gone back to where it belongs.

I'll bring up the sleeping thing again tomorrow with yet another of my health professionals, my friendly neighbourhood psychiatrist. I'm sure she has many more solutions to knock me out!

On another note, I can't believe that it is Thursday again. Thursdays feel very poignant for me because that is the day that my pregnancy ticked over to the next week of gestation. It's also the day of the week that Max was born. As each Thursday passes I can't help but think of what week of pregnancy I would be up to now if this accursed nightmare had not occurred. I think this week would be Week 30 - the homeward stretch. If Max had been born at 30 weeks the outcome would most likely have been very good. I would not have got to take him home straight away, but he would have come eventually. I keep wondering what it feels like to be 30 weeks pregnant. Would I have heartburn? Braxton hicks contractions? A waddle when I walked? How much bigger would my tummy have been? It is so weird to have had the experience of giving birth to a baby but having missed out on so much of what usually comes before.

As each Thursday passes I'm shocked by how quickly the time is passing, even though each individual day often feels like a marathon to get through. Time has lost all sense of meaning for me and I wonder how I'll manage over the next few weeks when I have to get back into work and other worldly responsibilities.