by Amy | Aug 21, 2013 | mama confessions
This past week, I’ve been really hard on myself about the fact that I have been seemingly incapable of making such a simple decision about whether or not my sons, ages 4 1/2 and 2, would go to a 2 day/week preschool program they attended last year. This past summer has literally flown by, and here I was, at the door of “meet-the-teacher” day, filled-out paperwork and fees that were immediately due. It was somehow too much for me to digest and deal with, and although we had already paid the nonrefundable deposit for their spots to be held, I just couldn’t fully move forward with the commitment to send them there without some pretty major hesitations.
My husband and I have mulled over and discussed this decision at great length over the past couple months. He has felt from the get-go that our oldest really needs the interaction, as do I. However, the cost of preschool alone and the fact that this particular preschool is 25 minutes from our home are both huge deterrents that keep us from whole-heartedly plunging forward and committing to it. The other factor is that we are expecting our third baby at the end of December, and the thought of trekking out and picking them up with baby in tow just feels like an overwhelming task I’m not quite sure I want to undertake.
While I was sifting through all of my thoughts over the past couple days, I finally decided to reach out to one of my like-minded girlfriends and confide in her about how I was feeling and how mad at myself I was for not being able to make a cut-and-dry decision. She quickly responded, telling me she was in the same boat and she was really frustrated with herself for it. She and her husband just got back from adopting a baby from China, and she has 3 biological children she is trying to make decisions for in the midst of all the adjusting. Wow was I relieved!! It’s not that I wanted her to join me in being plagued by indecision, but I was relieved because I didn’t feel alone. In some weird way her indecision validated my own, and I felt joy knowing that this is a situation we all face. I wasn’t just being hormonal or petty or irrational. I was being human. And humans don’t always know exactly what to do.
This also made me realize how much pressure we put on ourselves as mothers. We want the very best for our children. From the time we find out we are pregnant (or adopting) a baby, we begin to think about things like names, pediatricians, bedding sets, car seats and baby furniture. Once the baby is born, we mull over vaccinations and feeding schedules. As the baby grows, we are consumed with food and sleeping and the right bottles and toys…what they should wear…and the best activities to do to help stimulate their brains. It should be no surprise when we find ourselves carefully contemplating where or if they will go to preschool and what other extracurricular activities they should be involved in. We want the very best for our children. We don’t want our decisions to impact them in a negative way. We want them to learn as much as they can and grow to be amazing human beings. Right?
Truth be told, I’m a little overwhelmed by all the decisions that need to be made with regard to raising a child in this day and age. It seems like it is so complicated nowadays. To me, a lot of parents seem to be obsessed with the need to keep their children as busy as possible and enroll them in the best programs money can buy. But what if you aren’t so prone to being busy? What if you can’t afford the best programs? What if you have children who aren’t necessarily interested in having a tight schedule that involves learning everything possible they need to learn to succeed…by the age of 4!? Where does this leave you? Where does it leave your children?
I don’t, even for a second, judge the intentions of other parents. All I know is what I personally feel. And right now I feel overwhelmed by it all. There is this looming cloud overhead that tells me I need to make the best decision possible, and my head is spinning out of control trying to figure out what that is. I just don’t know. Isn’t that acceptable? Sure, I can’t go on not knowing forever. There comes a time when we need to be proactive and take steps forward regardless of how we feel. But I can’t ignore all the feelings that keep me from making a clear-cut decision, and I’ve always tried to live by the motto, “If in doubt, don’t.” Well, I’m in doubt. And the main doubt has to do with my pocketbook. I think my kids will survive and will be just fine if we don’t send them to preschool this year…this month…in two weeks. I think I will too. No matter what.
If you are a Mom like me and sometimes plagued with indecision, you are not alone. We all deal with it. We all struggle with the pressure we put on ourselves to make the best decisions possible for our families. I want to encourage you today, like I was encouraged by my friend’s email. Be gentle with yourself. Things will fall into place and be clear when it really matters. If in doubt, don’t. Let go of the guilt and the need to do everything perfectly. Your kids will be fine. And so will you.
Peace Out!
by Amy | Jul 24, 2013 | mama confessions
Ugh…I’m in a funk. I don’t like to usually write about my funks, but here I am…in one. Why? Because I hardly ever get a moment to myself. It’s the universal feeling/phrase every Mommy of young children I know feels/says. It’s true. We don’t. Most of us desperately want and need those quiet moments to think, reminisce, do something fun — for ourselves, read, journal, blog (ha!), sort out thoughts and feelings or here’s a thought, just BE. But they come so seldom. Those quiet moments. And they have been coming even less frequently for me lately as I take care of two very active little boys — one, of which, hasn’t offered me a full night’s sleep since his birth over two years ago. I honestly have a theory that he probably has it out for me and was placed on this planet to teach me a lesson. But that’s another blog post. The other contributing factor in my lack of time and energy issue is the fact that I’m 4 months pregnant with our third, and I’ve been unbelievably tired and unable to stay up late, stay awake during their naps (when they occur) or get up early…or should I say earlier than my kids. So, in case you’ve wondered about me or perhaps even missed my blog posts (hee hee), this is why you haven’t heard from me in a while.
Disclaimer: Major, carnal complaining below.
I’m cooked. I’m baked. I’m fried. I’m done. I’m dunzo. Stick a fork in me. I’m over the edge…in over my head. I could not be more over it. I’m on a deserted island waving my surrender flag. I’m in jail making my one phone call. I’ve had it up to…you get the picture.
So, here I am. Craving time. Craving quiet moments of reflection at a time when I so desperately need them and they seem to elude me entirely. And this has caused me to become unraveled…just a bit. OK, a lot. Add that lack of time to some unforeseen personal conflicts I’ve been experiencing, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for a total meltdown. And a meltdown I had this past weekend. A BIG one! I mean, the screaming, crying, hyperventilating kind of meltdown where I actually uttered the words, “I NEVER GET ANY TIME TO MYSELF!!!!!!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” And then I left the house with swollen, puffy, burnt holes in a blanket for eyes and took time for myself. I couldn’t enjoy that time I took, mind you, because it was too long overdue, and I had just thrown a huge temper tantrum causing my kids to cry and be scared of me. But I needed to take that time, and darn it, I did. With a guilt-ridden pit in the bottom of my stomach, I went to the farmer’s market alone and bought some tomatoes, for the love of…because God only knows, we needed more farm fresh tomatoes in our house! And then I went to Macy’s to walk around. I was offered a makeover. I must have looked like I needed it. That and a bigger pair of shorts to support my ever-growing belly. And then I walked back to the car, empty-handed, and drove home as fast as I could and entered the front door in shame. What was I thinking?!
After we all got past that momentous meltdown, I quickly tried to line up some sitters for the following week. Then I realized I had a doctor’s appointment on the day I had set up a babysitter for some “down time”. The babysitter still came. I went to my doctor’s appt. alone. Yay me. Then I came home and sat in a corner and ate chips and salsa within earshot of hearing my kids laugh and play with the babysitter. What was wrong with me? If I really needed time to myself, why didn’t I just take it?? But no, I needed to come home and torture myself and attempt to get something done while still being within 10 feet of my children. That never works.
Later that same day, I had another sitter come, but I quickly realized that I needed to get cash to pay her and the babysitter from that morning, so I left the house and went to the grocery store. I got home with 10 minutes to spare before she had to leave. Again…what?! What in the name of all that is holy was I thinking?! Do I even know how to adequately and efficiently use my time off anymore? And better yet, will I ever be able to again?
Aughh! Life is so hard sometimes isn’t it? I mean, I know deep down that people all around me are going through much more difficult issues than I am, but even that simple fact doesn’t take away the sting of my own personal issues that seem to plague me and cause me to feel like I’m going to come out of my skin. I mean, what’s a girl supposed to do to sort through things and get some time for herself? Should I start scheduling my hair washing and leg shaving at midnight? Do I need to start getting up at 4am and read my Bible and do my prayers and journaling then? Really? Because truthfully, I’ve tried everything else and I don’t know how to pull this off otherwise.
I think I’ve mentioned in previous posts how much “alone time” I’ve always needed throughout my life. If you go by the Meyers Briggs test, I fall right in the center of introvert/extrovert, but I think I’ve always been a closet introvert. I know that I gain perspective, energy and renewal by being alone. Sometimes, throughout my life, I’ve been known to shut myself up in my apartment or my room for days on end just reading, reflecting and praying. Wow, did God have a twisted sense of humor when he gave me two kids. I’m never alone. Never! And most of the time, I love it. I enjoy being stretched and tried. But then there are times like these when I would give my right arm for an entire day…or week…to myself.
So here I am. If you are in the same boat, I can relate. We Mommies are creative people with our own set of needs and desires that, many times, don’t get met. I know…whaaaahhhh! Right? Poor us. We are blessed with these amazing little creatures that we prayed for and wanted. How do we have the right to whine and complain about the fact that we don’t have time?! Didn’t we expect this? I mean, how stupid were we to think we’d somehow manage to carve out time and space in our lives for ourselves from time to time?! The funniest irony is that I used to look at my Mommy friends who had seemed to lose sense of what year we were in and think, “Really? Get a grip!” Ha! To all of those friends, I’m so, so sorry! Karma is a very cute thing, isn’t it?
I said all of that to say that I’m learning. I’m a work in progress. I’m realizing that this is a season in my life that I need to figure out how to cope with. Lately I feel like I’ve been coping in a resistant kicking and screaming kind of way. But I’d like to cope with it in a graceful, Audrey Hepburn kind of way with a lot of God’s grace sprinkled in. In other words, I don’t want to look back on this time in my life (and in case we’ve forgotten, it is just a short short time) and think, “Wow…I spent those crucial, precious, formative years of my kids’ younger years lamenting the fact that I had NO time to myself!” No no…NO!!! I want to look back and say, “I enjoyed EVERY second of those little years and I gave of myself 100%…completely and unselfishly…and I have NO regrets!”
So, if you’re struggling with this issue…past, present or future…will you pray with me?
Dear Lord,
Release me from the feeling of always needing more time. Provide help for me where and when I need it and cause me to utilize and redeem the time I do have to myself so I can be refilled and renewed for the task of taking care of small children. Realize in me the principle that, without you, I can do nothing. Help me to remember that when I feel defeated, emptied and exhausted. Just as airplanes can refuel in flight, help me to be refueled by your reserves that I have already stored up via prayer, verses, encouraging talks with friends, quotes, quality time with my husband and books I’ve read. Help me to find some space and time on a regular basis where I can unwind and rejuvenate, so that I can be absolutely present and prepared for what I have to face in my daily life without feeling deprived or drained. Help me to filter out unnecessary things that steal my joy or deplete me of the energy that I so desperately need.
Thank you for all you have given me. Amen
by Amy | May 22, 2013 | mama confessions
Don’t you love it when you learn something completely unexpected from a situation you’ve been placed in?
This week, my husband’s job took him out of town for the first time ever. I was excited for him, but somewhat overwhelmed by the idea that I would be alone with our two children, ages 4 1/2 and 2 for three straight days. I realize this is nothing for many women out there, but for me, this was huge! My husband helps out so much, and truthfully, I don’t even want to use the word “help” because he really is one of those husbands who voluntarily shares the responsibility of raising our children. He does work outside of the home during the week, but when he is home in the evenings, he does a lot with the kids as well as around the house.
I knew I would miss him, his presence and his help while he was gone, but one thing I did not realize was how much I needed him to leave us alone for a few days for me to gain some much-needed perspective. Let me explain by backing up just a bit…
I am and from as far back as I can remember, always have been, addicted to ambition. Now, that doesn’t mean I’ve always been successful. I’ve failed at a lot of things in life for sure. Whew, have I failed! But I truly am a creative soul who loves to pursue, to be challenged, to contemplate, to work at things, develop ideas and do. I love doing. And there has always been something about tapping into my creativity that has given me so much joy and inspiration. I crave it. I need it. I love it!
I put off having children for a long time for this very reason. I knew that having kids would put a temporary hold on my creative endeavors and ambitions, and I wasn’t ready for that. When my husband and I did finally settle into the idea of having kids, I was 33 and finally felt somewhat satisfied with all I had attempted and been successful at doing up until that point. I was ready to just (ha!) be a Mom and see where that road would take me.
Over the past 4 1/2 years, since my first son and then the second son were born, I have really not been able to shake this ambition gene. Even when I would tell myself that the whole career thing didn’t really matter to me and my kids were numero uno, I always knew deep down that there was a huge conflict going on inside of me. I often felt the pang of disappointment when I had to turn opportunities down, and more than once, I was caught off guard by other people’s successes and how they would make me feel. Even though I absolutely loved my children and knew that I had chosen to be a stay-at-home-but-still-sorta-working Mom, I always still felt the tugging of the life I once knew and the validity it gave me and the struggle I faced with having to live on the outskirts of it all.
These past few months, my mind has been literally spinning. I can now take a step back and look at myself in perspective, and I can honestly say that I’ve probably seemed most like a hamster on a wheel. I’ve been running…and running…and running, but in the end, I kind of feel like I’ve arrived nowhere for it all. I’ve been continuing to try and keep my feet wet and working odd and poor paying jobs to keep the money flow, connections and perhaps even a little prestige. I’ve paid good money to have my vocal studio logo and website revamped, even though, when I was honest with myself, I felt strongly at the end of last year that I had lost my passion for it while trying to raise two little boys. I started a new endeavor with this website and have spent countless hours formulating business ideas surrounding the idea of it, but have dropped the ball on many occasions out of sheer exhaustion and overwhelm. I spent another moderate chunk of change getting certified to lead personal renewal groups for women and most recently, I signed up to be a distributor for a product my family and I use.
Truth be told, all of these endeavors are great ones. And I also love singing and reading and cooking and would love to take up sewing and quilting and photography and a good Bible study and beading and. the. list. goes. on. I love the “how-to” section of books at the library. If I allowed myself, I would take home and read through every single one of them. And learn how to. I have a very curious mind that wants to know a lot. It’s a blessing. And a curse.
But here’s the deal…all of these “pursuits” have taken SO much time and focus away from my kids. And I didn’t even realize it. Until this week. Sure, I knew that I was longing for time…that precious time we mothers never get. But when they both went off to preschool 2 days a week, I still felt time-deprived. 1:30pm almost ALWAYS came too soon. I was actually relieved when they got out of school last week, because then I didn’t have to think about efficiently using that TIME anymore. Then there were the weekends. Those longed for weekends when we dreamily imagine that the husband is going to come in on a white horse, swoop up the kids and deliver us from our duties so that we can pursue other, more exciting things outside of wiping snot off of couches, scraping playdo off the floors and folding laundry. But that time would fly by as well, and many Sunday nights were spent silently (or sometimes not so silently) pouting that nothing…nothing I had anticipated accomplishing…had gotten done even after my husband had taken the kids out of my sight for hours on end, to give me: TIME.
In my heart of hearts, I knew that all of this was a choice I had made. I had chosen busy. I had chosen hectic. I had, in essence, chosen my creative endeavors and ambition over being present and raising my children well. I always justified this in my mind by saying that everything comes with a price tag and we have to sacrifice some things in order to gain others, and it was good for them to learn that other people can care for them besides me, and it was important that I had me-time…blah blah blah…, but I knew, deep down, these were all lies I had told myself to justify all the busy-ness…the busy-ness that didn’t include them.
Oddly enough, even when my oldest son went through some pretty serious medical issues a few months back, I was jolted but still not moved enough to really change the way I did things. I knew that I needed to be present and it gave me a sense of feeling like I didn’t have any control, but I still plunged ahead allowing my mind to spin even more aimlessly trying to achieve, to accomplish, to make something happen.
Stay with me as I come back full circle to this week. My husband is gone for a few days. I’m home with the kids alone. I have no other option than to pull the plug on all other endeavors and just be with them. There is no light at the end of the tunnel when the hub finally gets home and relieves me of my duties. There is no other standby to take over when I’m feeling like I JUST CAN’T HANDLE THEM ANYMORE!!! There is just us — the 3 of us (well, 4 if you count the dog…and I do). We’re going through good times and not so good times. We’re here. We’re in the moment. We’re together. And it’s oh so grand! We’re playing with cars and trucks and doing puzzles and playing games. We’re taking long baths and reading books and eating popcorn and playing with playdo for long stretches at a time without me feeling the urge to clean it all up so the house can appear like kids don’t live here. I’ve let dishes go. I’ve let laundry go. I’ve let emails go. I’ve skipped on the extras and kept things to bare essentials. I haven’t thought a bit about my ambitions and aspirations. And I like it. Not only that, but my oldest son has noticed a change in me over the last two days. After our fun day today, he looked up at me and said, “This has been really fun, Mommy.” I knew what he meant. He meant that having me without interruption…without other priorities on my to-do list…having my full attention and interacting with me was “really fun” and it meant a lot to him.
The fact that he noticed this made me completely satisfied and content and completely and utterly sad at the same time. Why? Because I’ve let myself be consumed for far too long with all of these unimportant, mind-cluttering things. I’ve sat my oldest in front of a dvd far too many times throughout his 4 years of life so I could “get something done”. And what did I accomplish? Well, I probably got a few things done, but mostly, I probably just wasted some precious time I could have been playing with him on the floor and hugging and cuddling and kissing that sweet, precious face, and even sadder, I’ve subtly taught him that he wasn’t one of the most important things in my life! How tragic is that?
Now, I’m not saying that taking “Mommy Time” is wrong or sometimes even much-needed and well-earned. We all need a break…or two…or three. And I’m also not implying that working Mommies should feel guilty. Many of us really need to be bringing in a 2nd income, and yes, that requires some sacrificing and hours of time not spent with our children every day. And for some, ambition and creativity can be carefully contained and balanced with motherhood. But, for me, I know I’ve let this idea run a little too far, and it has been a very slippery and treacherous slope. I also have an incredibly supportive husband who allows me to make decisions that will impact him and the kids without ever saying much or protesting the huge responsibility it leaves with him. He trusts me to have good judgment with what I sign us all up for, so perhaps I’ve allowed myself to indulge in my endeavors and quests a little too lavishly and take on things that don’t really matter…and perhaps at my family’s expense. And in so doing, I’ve missed out on some quality, present time with my “littles” as my friend Susan calls them, so I could perhaps selfishly pursue…achieve…accomplish…and feel satisfied with my life…and have it all. And frankly, post-epiphany, this all makes me physically ill. I mean, seriously…what could be more important than being absolutely present and involved with the very children who came out of my own womb?! Wake up, Amy!
So, my friends, I think you have met a new woman in the making. So long, odd jobs! So long, commitments that don’t involve my children! So long, pursuits and drive and ambition for things that eat at my soul and take me away from my littles. Their little time is fleeting. I have the rest of my life to be ambitious about other things after I’ve been ambitious about being with them and raising them to the best of my God-given ability! Yes, this is all a balancing act. I, too, have to take care that I don’t go to the other extreme and lose my grip on reality by not doing things I enjoy from time to time. But my goal is no longer to suit my own needs and aspirations. My current goal is to see that I really know and experience my children and they really know and experience me; that they are raised and taught by me about Christ; and that they experience the selfless love of God through me. If I can’t give them that, who can?
Disclaimer:
Two years ago, a post like this one would have made me furious. Anyone ever heard of women’s lib? I can bring home the bacon…fry it up in the pan! And you know what? I am fully prepared that it will bring out some fury in some readers out there who are living their lives to the fullest and raising their youngins to the best of their ability with no guilty conscience whatsoever. This is not about you and your family. This is about me and my family, and what God is doing in our lives and my conscience. As they say, live and let live! Whatever your path, I implore you to do it to your utmost ability. If your path is that of a hard-working Mommy who needs to bring in a second income, do it. If your path is to be a single Mommy who has to go to school and work to make ends meet so your kids can be fed, you are my HERO! If you are a stay-at-home Mommy who longs for craft night with the girls or a spa weekend away from the kids, that is YOUR right. If you are a Facebook or Pinterest addict who puts her kids in front of Yo Gabba Gabba to get a moment of inspiration in between changing soiled sheets, go for it! I am not here to convict others about how their time and energy are spent. I am simply stating what God has laid on my heart and what is convicting me.
by Amy | Mar 19, 2013 | mama confessions
Wow! It’s been much too long since I’ve last blogged. I have dearly missed it, but for some reason, my heart just hasn’t been into writing and sharing lately. I’m going through a phase of just reading, praying, meditating, keeping to myself and soaking up all the gems others have to offer. Still, somehow, I feel like I need to put my voice out there and let people in on all the things my mind has been reeling about over the past few months.
First of all, I am so happy to say that my dear 4-year-old son is doing remarkably well after all he has been through over the past five months. We are still awaiting some doctor recommendations, and I’m sure we have more follow-ups to come, but we are just basking in the glory of having no seizures since the end of December and trusting our God and Healer for complete healing. The last MRI at the end of January showed that the inflammation is still there in a few different areas on his brain. The doctors are undoubtedly nervous and want to treat him, but for some reason, we are at a major standstill. What we thought was going to be a quick referral to a rheumatologist in Houston has now taken over six weeks with no answers and no referral. At the time, we would have jumped in our car and driven there for this doctor to see him and recommend treatment, but now, six weeks later, we are feeling much differently. At first, we were angry at the lack of communication and urgency these doctors have shown, but now, I feel like it has just been a God thing. I firmly believe that God is just holding everyone off and doing His own healing so that we don’t have to put him through rigorous treatment unnecessarily. Funny how God works in these ways. We have no idea what He is doing, but we know He is up to something! In any case, I boldy proclaim that he is healed and know that so much good will come out of all of this hardship! Thank you, God!
Aside from all of that, our family is doing really well, and I just feel the presence of God in our lives more now than ever. It was so needed too. I can’t describe it, but even though I have known the Lord for many years, I have never quite felt His hand on me like I do now. He guides my ever move, and He is with me every second of every day. He always was. It’s only now that I notice Him.
As I type this, my eyes well up with tears. I’m so humbled by all that God is doing in my life right now. I am so full of joy and gratitude for the precious little lives that He has given me to pray for, kiss and hug on, teach and touch. Never in my life have I known such joy and satisfaction and felt like I was right where I needed to be. However, if you would have talked to me before my son got sick, my testimony would have been much different. I would have told you that I loved my kids, but…
- I would give anything for some time to myself.
- I am so exhausted from all I have to do.
- I’m so drained by the constant picking up of toys, laundry to do, dishes to wash and put away, peacemaking between siblings, dinners to make, etc…
- I just wish I had more help.
- I just wish I could sleep more. And the list goes on…
I am not a saint. I still have those feelings a lot. But now the filter is different. Instead of letting myself wallow in these thoughts, a little timer immediately goes off and says, “Snap out of it! Your time for complaining is UP!” It’s true! I used to let myself sigh outloud — you know…the martyr sigh that tells the world how bad you have it –and get frustrated and let my extreme impatience with my kids come out a lot more than I would ever like to admit. But now, when those little voices creep up as I walk from one end of the house to another picking up toys and wiping crayon marks off my wall, I smile as if to say to myself, “Get over yourself, Amy!” Then I immediately think of all the things I am so grateful for:
- Those beautiful, sweet, soft cheeks I get to kiss every day…there will soon be a day when those cheeks will thin out, have pimples and start to grow hair!
- Hearing the word, “Mommy!” for the 25th time in a 5-minute time span…there will soon be a day they will no longer call me “Mommy”…but instead “Mom” or perhaps nothing at all. Maybe they’ll just say, “Hey…You…Lady who wiped my butt and rocked me to sleep for 3 years straight!”
- The crazy loudness that penetrates the walls of my house…there will soon be a day when that loudness will turn to a very still, eery quietness that longs for their sweet voices to echo down the hallway.
- The lack of time to myself…there will soon be a day when I will have too much time to myself. Although, right now, I can’t even imagine that.
- The clutter of toys and games and unidentifiable objects throughout my entire house…there will soon be a day when I will look around the house and none of that will be here…and I will be sad that it’s not there. Another one that is hard for me to believe at. this. moment.
I could go on and on, but I will leave it at that. You get the picture. It is something we all have to learn and confess on a daily basis.
I was just laughing and talking to my girlfriend the other day about the fact that we wish we could just press the pause button and get some things done and have a moment to just soak it all up and take a breath without them growing in the process and without us missing out on all the moments. She wanted her pause button to last for a year. She thought she could really accomplish a lot and get things done if she had that long. I was thinking more like an entire day, since I haven’t had an entire day to myself in 4 1/2 years! I can only imagine the things I could do! Ha!
Whatever your pause button might look like, we all have the need to stop and reflect on what we have from time to time. For some reason I’ll never know or understand, God didn’t design our lives to have a built-in pause button. For some reason, we are severely sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, bombarded and up to our ears in snot, poop, sour milk and crayons in a very suffocating, sore boobed, no personal space kind of way, and somehow, some way we have to lavish in it and enjoy every second of it because just as quickly as it came about in our lives, it vanishes. So unfair! I’ve always said that it was a cruel, twisted joke that we have to enjoy every quickly passing second of a sleepless newborn, even though nothing about sleep-deprivation connotates the word “enjoy”. It’s the same cruel, twisted joke that we have to enjoy every quickly passing second of a toddler’s tantrums or a preschooler’s strong will. But for some reason, we do. We absolutely do. God designed it that way. So, like anything, we have a choice. Is the boob half empty or is it half full? Do we relish in the mishaps — the spilled milk, the crumbs in the couch, the snot on the wall, the toys we accidentally step on — which happen more often than the clean house? Or do we complain and wish away our kids’ codependent years and then look back and wish we had just enjoyed it more?
I choose to relish in the mishaps and trust the God who gave me these precious souls to mold and shape and raise and pray for.
Today, I am resting on this promise:
2 Corinthians 12:9
9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Strength made perfect in weakness?
Rest?
Sign me up!
by Amy | Nov 14, 2012 | mama confessions, Uncategorized
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by Amy | Nov 11, 2012 | mama confessions
Well, where do I begin?
Saturday morning at around 4:30am I was awoken and led to my laptop to write about the absolutely perfect day I had had with my two children the day before (READ HERE). I have been trying to get better about writing and recording those amazing, memorable moments more, because days go by and then weeks go by and then months go by and I realize that I can’t remember them like I want to. I, for sure, can’t remember what we may have eaten on any given day, what the kids wore or what specific activities we did, but most importantly, I forget about those very special, precious moments where we break out in laughter over a funny incident over lunch or we play together without a care in the world on the living room floor. Friday was a day I never wanted to forget. It was perfect and special for no reason other than the fact that we were together. There were no errands to run; there were no other people to meet up with; there was no alternate agenda on my day planner. It was just me and my boys…just hanging out. I wanted to have a record of that special day and share the details of it, so that I could put it in my treasure chest of memories from when my kids were little…or perhaps even to recall it when days weren’t so perfect. Little did I know that I was three hours away from one of the most imperfect, utterly terrifying and excruciating days in my entire life!
Only three hours later, at around 7:30am, my sweet, beautiful, little boy, Tate, woke up like any other morning and called out for my husband from his room. My husband went to get him before he woke anyone else up, and they went into the living room to play a puzzle on the floor. My husband noticed he had a runny nose, so he reached over to wipe his it. My son began to jerk his head back and convulse. My husband thought he was joking around and tried to get him to sit still. My son began to tilt his head back and lost all ability to speak. Then he began uttering sounds that made my husband quickly realize that something was seriously wrong. His lips began to smack uncontrollably. His eye lids began to twitch. His body began to shake and stiffen. My husband picked him up and carried him to me to get help. I immediately called 911 and raced through the house to gather our things as if I had been trained from above to know what to do. The paramedics arrived on the scene and by then, my son’s body had begun to relax a bit. He seemed confused and very quiet, but his shaking had stopped. The paramedics decided to go ahead and take him in the ambulance to Dell Children’s Hospital while I followed behind in the car with our younger son.
By the time I arrived at the ER, Tate was in the middle of what they now believe to have been another seizure. This time, the seizure seemed to be isolated on the right side of his body with his right arm jerking and right eye and right side of his mouth twitching. My husband and I were dumbfounded. Throughout all the questioning by doctors and nurses, we were struck by just how healthy and normal our precious boy had been throughout these first four years of his life. He had been sick only a handful of times and by all practical purposes, he was a very healthy, happy little boy with absolutely no reason for us to have ever imagined that he would go through something like this. It was out of the blue and completely unexplainable. Even the medical staff seemed puzzled as they gathered more information about his medical history. He had not recently had immunizations, he had not been sick with a high fever or worse, he had not fallen or done anything to cause trauma to his head that we were aware of. He was just waking up from a good night’s sleep and playing on the floor with his Daddy.
Over the course of four days in the hospital, they ran test after test to try and determine why our little boy suffered from these seizures. On the same day of his series of seizures, he could barely get out an audible word. They ran an EEG to determine his brain function and it came back fairly normal with no reason for them to think that he would have another seizure. The neurologist was quite confident that the MRI would also come back normal, and in my naive mind, I was thinking we’d get to go home within a few hours. Little did I know. They finally got him into an MRI around 5pm that same day, and after hours in the ER just waiting, being by his side and trying to make arrangements for my younger son to be taken care of, Tate was finally admitted to the hospital for an overnight stay. While we waited for the MRI test results to come back, they started him on anticonvulsants (one of the many words I had never used before Saturday) and kept a watchful eye to make sure that he was in stable condition. Communication with Tate was, at best, minimal. He was alert and aware, at some points even smiling, but he was not talking like he normally did.
Once the MRI results came back, the neurologist came to talk to us about the fact that Tate’s MRI showed swelling on the left side of his brain. My head still can’t get around this. I was prepared for them to tell us that he would need to be monitored, but I was not prepared for the MRI to come back irregular or cause anyone concern. Words like “tumor” and “stroke” were being thrown out as my head began to spin. How could this happen? What was going on with our boy?
Because of the swelling on the brain, the neurological team ordered more MRIs to be taken in order to get a better picture and attempt to rule out some serious possibilities. After his initial MRI on Saturday evening, he was then fully sedated again on Sunday for an MRA and spinal tap and then again on Monday for an MRV. After all this, it was finally determined that he did not have a stroke of any kind and he did not have one of the tested viral infections they look for. In order to take every precaution, they had immediately started him on two antibiotics and an antiviral, but they took him off all of that once the spinal tap came back negative.
As I write this, we are back home and back to our normal life. Over a week has passed since this horrible morning when the seizures began. There are still no answers as to what caused the seizures and what, if anything, could be behind the swelling. As of now, we are scheduled to have another MRI in six weeks. By then, I would imagine the swelling will have subsided and they will be able to get a clearer picture of what is going on. That is our hope, at least.
In the midst of this storm, we have had countless people praying for Tate and for us. We have been blessed by hospital visitors, gifts and meals prepared by those who care. I am so incredibly grateful for the love and support we have received. It has helped ease the fear and take our minds off of the situation at hand. Throughout this entire time, we have felt God’s hand on us and on Tate. We know that he is in control and we have relinquished our own control and anxiety over to him again and again.
Since our return home, Tate has been back to his lively, happy self. He has been playing with his toys, running, riding his scooter and laughing. He has been talking a mile a minute and for all practical purposes, he does not even look like he has been through anything. Truthfully, I think Thomas and I have been hit the hardest by this, and today, all I feel is devastation and exhaustion. In the back of our minds, we as mothers always know there is a possibility that something could happen to our children. We even try to prepare ourselves for it without becoming too paranoid or too worried. But when something does happen, it shakes us to the core and leaves a big hole in our hearts. Right now, there’s a hole where my security once was. Right now, there is an overwhelming, crippling fear that wasn’t there before. As strong and faithful as I want to be, I cannot lie and say that this hasn’t taken ahold of me. Regardless of the outcome of the follow-up MRI in six weeks, I will forever be changed by this occurrence. No matter how healthy my child is and how good his follow-up reports may be, I feel like I will forever be frightened about his well-being and perhaps wonder if we will ever have to go through the horror we went through a week ago.
There are no words that can explain this feeling as a parent. From the time a child is formed within your womb, you worry about his/her little body. You breathe a sigh of relief when you leave those OB visits with a good report. You smile with tears in your eyes as you hear a healthy, beating heart. When the child is finally born, you sit beside his bed at night making sure he’s breathing. You hesitate to sleep for fear that you might miss a plea for help. As time goes by, your confidence in your child’s well-being grows. You let go little by little and don’t need to be right beside your child, watching his every move anymore. You slowly began leaving him with friends or family to go out for dinner with your husband. You kiss him goodbye as he goes off to school. You allow him to play in another room or even outside by himself, because you know he’ll be OK. That initial fear you had when he was born his, for the most part, gone. You are confident that he is doing fine on his own — with or without your help.
This is where we were last week. We were confident in our son’s well-being. As I stated before, he had never had any health issues or causes for our concern. He was growing up and doing just fine! Then this happened on Saturday and changed everything. Now, I feel as if we’re back at that place we were in when he was only days old. We are keeping a watchful eye on him and worried about his every move. Our confidence has been shaken, and I honestly don’t know how to get it back.
Dear Lord,
You know our thoughts before we even think them. You know what is on our hearts without our being able to verbalize exactly how we feel. I am filled with grief today even though my son is happy and seemingly healthy. I am so scared by the what-ifs and thrown off guard by this chain of events that has literally flipped our world upside down. The day before this happened, I was relishing in the moment and enjoying just being with my two little boys. Now, just a little over a week later, I am completely thrown off and feel as though I don’t know what hit me. How does one bounce back from such a life-altering event? How does one handle the ever-present threat of something happening to her children?
This past week has taught me that there are no certainties in life. We can think we have healthy children, a stable job, a lasting marriage, good tires on our car, and in just moments, we can find ourselves on an ambulance heading to a children’s hospital, struggling with work, fighting with our spouses and getting a flat tire.
Help me, Lord, to cherish every moment and cast all of my care and fear on you. Help me not to be anxious and worried. Help me to learn from this and live my life to the fullest and glorify you. Help me not to be paralyzed by fear, but to live in you and your hope alone.
Amen
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