3:00 am

Something happens in your body at 3:00 am. Diabetics know that it's the start of the dawn phenomenon. Something changes with your hormones. For me, I often wake up.

Last night, 3:01, I was awake. I had to turn the tv on to lull me back to sleep, to stop the thoughts running around in my head. I wish there was an off switch for my anxiety.

So I was laying there thinking about another night, two years ago, when I was awake. I was pregnant, it was summer (July or August). It cool for that time of year. The windows were open and a soft breeze blew in. My tv was on. My husband was not home.

At that point in our marriage, and to my disappointment, Nemo went out most nights. I was mad, sad, irritated, and frustrated about it. But I couldn't keep him home. (can you really make anyone do anything?) As spring turned to summer and then to fall, he stayed out later and later to finally not returning at all.

This particular night, I woke up scared, in a panic. I went to the kitchen, got something to eat, and tried to call Nemo. He didn't answer his phone. I waited, and tried again. I left five messages in a half hour. He would hate when I'd do that, but I couldn't help myself. I was becoming more and more irritated as the months went on, and I felt the control over my life slipping away as my husband slipped away. It wasn't right that I should be home by myself, not knowing where my husband was in the middle of the night.

I remember looking out the window. Feeling the breeze. Staring at the nearly full moon and how it brought light to the yard. Watching the leaves on the trees rustle. Feeling like but for one small thing, Nemo being there, I could be serene in that moment. I wondered where Nemo was during that one moment. Where he could be that he couldn't be bothered to answer the phone.

He called me forty-five minutes later with some excuse. In the end, they were all the same: he fell asleep at n's house with his phone in the car, he was at x bar where he couldn't hear his phone even on vibrate, he was driving home with the radio on loud (but still an hour away), etc etc. I felt so depleted. I didn't believe his excuses, but I sure wanted to, so I convinced myself he wasn't lying to me. (n = any random friend or relative that would lie for Nemo)

Those nights were long, painful. I hated going to bed at night because I knew it would repeat again. The best thing Nemo did was in November (before Lucian's birth) when he told me he wasn't coming home, that he'd be sleeping at n's house trying to figure out what was making him so unhappy.

I hope never again to have such painful nights. Even now, up at 3:00 am, I'm calm. Even with tossing and turning insomnia, I know my loved ones are in bed safe. I'm not waiting for someone to come home, who had so obviously not wanted to be there in the first place.