The Quiet Battles of Bedtime

There’s nothing quite like an hour and a half of screaming, hair-pulling, and head-banging at bedtime to remind me how powerless it can feel when love isn’t enough to calm her. It’s one of those moments that tests every ounce of patience and strength I have.

I gave her medicine because I thought she might be in pain but it breaks my heart that I have to guess. I wish she could just tell me what’s wrong, what hurts, what she needs. Instead, I’m left piecing together clues and hoping I make the right call.

It’s frustrating and lonely, standing there trying to soothe someone you love more than anything, knowing that love alone can’t fix what’s happening in that moment. I just want her to feel calm, safe, and understood.

These are the moments that don’t show up in pretty pictures or tidy stories. They’re raw and messy, but they’re real. And even in the hardest parts, I’m reminded that she’s trying just as hard as I am. We’re both doing our best to find our way through it.