Adrift

Weary. My head is foggy. I spent most of the day crying. I'm the mother of this beautiful baby girl. She's happy, full of life, full of joy. I'm starting to drown and I can't let her know. I miss my husband. He works all day and three nights a week (in a row) he goes to school. We don't see him. The baby doesn't see him. And I miss him. I worry so much that the next two years we will grow apart. He'll be at school, at work. Learning, living, making friends. And I'll be here at home, raising our baby. Becoming more a mother and less the girl he married. What will happen to us? My brain is a mess. I need help. I need help to balance it. I waited too long to ask for help and now I'm desperate. But I must wait. How long will it take? How long can I hold on by myself. Fumbling inside my own head, my own body. Aimless. All alone. My baby shines. When she's awake, when she's in my arms, she lights me up. I'm her mother and not the mess I usually am. Kyle is my touch stone. He's not here and I'm adrift without him.