Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Definitely NOT the Mother of the Year

If you've been with us for a while you know I often refer to myself as the MOTY.  Each of those times I'm actually referring to the failures and mishaps that occur in my daily care of Lillian.  It's a joke,  (mostly)  because in those moments when awful things occur at my hand, I think to myself, "not winning that title this year"'s my levity, I guess.  Because, HEY YOU, yes, you...that mom/dad/human being out there, we ALL fail.  Things happen.  Stuff we don't plan and obviously don't want to do, happen. Gotta give yourself some grace, some levity.  It's hard when you're a mom tending your children.  In ALL the stages (ask me how I know ;) ) Well, that's me anyway.

Monday, my MOTY status was high.  BIG TIME HIGH.  I was frustrated.  My voice was raised....nearly yelling, but not quite.  I allowed frustration to overwhelm and take over.  Later, there were tears and shaking and apologies and forgiveness.  However, I heaved and wept myself in bed that evening.  Feeling ashamed, sad, angry at myself and the situation.  Although I thought I had no expectations, I certainly did.  I wanted to be rid of the bedside commode in the living room.  I wanted to be rid of the wheelchair taking up space.  I wanted rest for my body that is physically aching from the lifting.  I knew life wouldn't get back to our normal right away, but I certainly thought things would be A LOT closer.   Dead, dead wrong.   I started to think back on the days when she was newly home from the hospital and all the therapies started pretty quickly in our home.  She would cry (with no sound) but definitely crying through her therapies.  The had to push her to do things she didn't like and I'm sure were uncomfortable and I had to sit by, watch, encourage, and feel like I was the worse mother for letting it take place, yet knowing it had to.  So, here I am, again, right back in that place.  Mentally and physically exhausted.

Tuesday morning I got a phone call from a church friend.  Someone who was knowledgeable and experienced in broken bones.  She shared with me the do's and don'ts and the things I should expect.  I cried to her as I shared my struggle with not knowing what was too much and not enough and she was a soothing balm to my spirit.

I'm still aching a bit, internally, but this too shall pass and I know the Lord is near to me.

So, two days since cast removal, we are pretty much in the same state as we were with the cast.  She won't bear weight and I'm hopeful and praying for better days ahead, no matte when they might be.  Hopefully sooner than later, though!

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted. And saves those who are crushed in spirit" Psalm 34:18

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