I've notice that it seems to take longer for me to recover, each trip we make. The one-day trips aren't too bad, but I've developed a tendency to take a nap when I get home! Hubby does the same. Whether it's because we don't sleep as well when we aren't in our own beds, or just the stress of big city traffic, something about that 384 miles just wears me out.
It's much worse when it's for more than just one night. This last stay was for almost five days. We got home Friday. Today is Wednesday, and I'm just starting to not feel exhausted. God bless my co-workers because I'm pretty sure I was riding a broomstick around all day Monday. Tears were very close to the surface all of Monday and Tuesday, and I think I'm beginning to get a glimmer of why.
Babygirl is sick. She's never NOT going to be sick.
Okay, really, it's not like I just noticed or anything. It's more of the same thing: Adjusting to the new 'normal.' Realizing that I HATE the new 'normal.' Understanding with my mind, my heart and my GUT just how much this sucks. Grieving for what I thought I had. Coming to grips with all that Babygirl has lost.
I keep circling this. I've run the five stages of grief around about a million times in this past year. And every time I think I've accepted it, I find I haven't, really - not yet. Maybe not ever.