Derek was gone for a while and came home last week for a few days. He still had to work, so we basically had a weekend together as a family. Two days ago, I woke up really sick, with what I think was a stomach bug he brought home with him. I had no way to call him and no one to help me with Madeline. I was too dizzy and weak to go to the store. Thankfully, an army wife I've met once was nice enough to bring me some gatorade, but I couldn't even keep it down. It was truly awful. Derek came home with medicine and ginger ale; the medicine didn't help and I couldn't drink the ginger ale. The next day he had to go to work. He couldn't even take a half day in the morning to help me when I could barely leave the bathroom. I thought I was feeling better in the afternoon and took Madeline to her first ice skating lessons. That was a mistake because I wasn't feeling better. Thankfully Derek managed to sneak out of work early and meet us there. He came home at the same time and helped out for the rest of the night. Got me more medicine, which finally seemed to stop the need to be in the bathroom every 5 minutes, but didn't change the fact that I felt like I was run over by a bus. Woke up stupid early to take him back to the boat. He is going to be gone for a long time. A jerk cop pulled up behind us in the parking lot and started talking about how I rolled through a stop sign and why wasn't my car registered in Hawaii yet (I actually had plans to go to the DMV the morning I woke up sick. Oh the irony). Then asked Derek if he was going to take responsibility for this, like Derek is my dad and I'm not capable of taking responsbility for my own actions. I said he hadn't been home, so the car thing was on me, and the guy asks him to get out of the car. They talk, he comes back and says thanks for everything you do as a spouse and leaves. Derek said the guy told him he didn't like my attitude. I guess Derek explained that Madeline and I have been sick for the last month and he has been gone pretty much since we moved here. I wanted to ask what kind of attitude he'd have if he spent the last 3 days without eating or drinking, on the toilet, alone with a 2 year old and now it is 5 am and I'm saying goodbye to my only help for a really long time. And then I cried for the first time since we've moved here. Because it has been a lot. This adjustment has been so hard and I've been lonelier than I've ever been. Solo parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done. Every time I think we are settling into a groove, something pops up, and it feels twenty times harder because I don't have a partner here.
The rest of the day has passed by in a blur. It has been uncomfortable and emotional and despite the fact that he hasn't even been gone a full 24 hours, it made the time Derek was home feel like a dream that happened weeks ago.Tonight, finally ate something real, after 72 hours (and 10 pounds lost) of nothing but 10 saltine crackers and gatorade. It seems to be staying ok. I still feel awful and dehydrated and my head is pounding like I can't even describe. But I know I'm getting better and that we will survive this. I know that we will survive these 3 years. I know that every bump in the road isn't the end of the world and that every goodbye is building up another callous, making me stronger. This week, it has all fallen apart, but next week I will start to pull it back together. Next week, I will try harder to handle this life with grace and patience. And every week after that I will keep trying. Three years isn't that long, right?
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