I couldn’t sleep after my fourth miscarriage.
I have always been a “good” sleeper. I never struggled with falling asleep, or staying asleep. I have never pulled an all-nighter, and those few nights in college when I would be up until the middle of the night, I would pay for it dearly the next day.
I not only need my eight hours of sleep, but I relish them.
But when I suddenly stopped sleeping, I suffered. I struggled to get through my days: I was grieving, I was processing trauma, and I was also exhausted. This trifecta of pain became an endless cycle I couldn’t see a way out of.
For the first time in my life, I had a problem falling asleep. My thoughts became anxious at night: I imagined the baby after delivering on my own; I worried the doctors might have missed something that could have saved our baby. Nothing I did would quiet these thoughts.
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