Head Games

I have insomnia. Not all the time, but sometimes it's really bad and it makes me crazy (er?). Do you sometimes have insomnia because you are stressing and worrying and generally obsessing about really weird things? Or is that just me?

My insomnia drives me nuts because I can lie awake for hours gnawing on some 'problem' with my heart pounding and thoughts chasing their tails in my brain, fall asleep around four a.m., sleep for two hours, pull my exhausted self out of bed and then not think about the earth shattering issue that kept me awake all night at all, all day, only to have it resurface as I try to fall asleep.

Real problems or worries don't keep me awake at night. It's usually something dumb. Or just bizarre. Is it denial? Avoidance? Certainly there are things worth a little night time stress, like, oh I don't know:

When we leave our tropical paradise and head home again in five weeks, will Matt be able to find a job, and will that job have decent insurance and will that insurance cover my pre-existing pregnancy?

Will my children grow up to be functioning, happy, productive members of society? Could I perhaps use a little more patience and a little less yelling in the pursuit of that goal?

Will the world economy collapse and anarchy reign in our lifetime?

Could I do more in my life to promote world peace, end hunger, stop the AIDS pandemic and foster more equality around the world?

Why was Tom Cruise so unbelievably hot in Top Gun and how can he now be so smarmy and shaggy pony looking?

Am I that old?

Am I going to let someone on this island dye my hair or am I going to let it go almost completely gray holding out for my stylist in the States?

See. Major issues exist. My night time issues are ridiculous. I spent an entire week about a year ago completely unable to sleep because I had not made scrapbooks for the children. I don't even scrapbook. With a lot of help, I had made a beautiful baby scrap book for Gee, documenting in excruciating detail his birth to his eighth month. After that, nothing. For my daughter, nada. For my second son, zip. All I have is an entire huge wooden chest full of scraps of paper and cards and other memorable flotsam and jetsam that no one will ever want to sort through including me.

Finally, I got up one night at 3 a.m. and organized the whole mess, sorted, filed, got it all 'ready' to put into scrapbooks. That was a year ago and I haven't opened it since except to throw in more scraps of paper, but I haven't stressed over it in the middle of the night either.

Here's the latest. Someone help me, there's something wrong with my brain. Originally, I was carrying twins, but one of the babies was not viable and miscarried very early. At the first ultrasound, the technician labeled the babies, as I'm sure they always do, baby a (the healthy embryo) and baby b (who in the end didn't make it). Fine. That really is fine and we are all feeling very healthy and accepting of the situation with only a very few pangs of frustration and regret.

My night time brain considers this a pressing problem. The name that Matt and I have in our heads for this baby (provided it's a boy because we're just used to having boys and because we always agree on boys names very easily) starts with a B. Making him, in my head, because of the way I use my kids' initials when I write, baby B. Except, he isn't baby B, the other sweet little baby that didn't stay with us was baby b. I think. Or maybe he wasn't or maybe it doesn't matter? Maybe that's just random coincidence? It bothers me a little. Only it doesn't, well only at night. You see the problem, or maybe you don't?

I know, a few cards short of a deck over here. What do you think? Start over with names because it is a little weird and sad? Keep the name for sure because it's sweet that it honors the other baby that way? It's just a coincidence, it means nothing you nutcase, do whatever you want? Feel free to give answer A, B or C (aha, pun intended) because I swing freely between knowing I'm a nutcase and thinking we just need to scrap and start over.

Sigh. We really like the B name too. If you're thinking it's a bit early to worry about this issue, you have no idea how hard it is for Matt and I come up with a name. Six months is nothing.

The craziest thing about my current insomnia obsession is that this baby will probably be a girl. In that case, it's not a problem, we'll never name her. Matt and I have NEVER, EVER in the history of our baby naming agreed on a girl's name. Our daughter is named Saige because I threw a temper tantrum after months of discussion and told him that unless he could come up with something better in the next fifteen minutes, I was naming her Saige because I loved it.

Don't worry, I promise not to throw a temper tantrum at any of you. At least, not so you can hear me.