Fighting Battles

If you want to read some great writing by a wise woman, I highly recommend checking these posts out:
http://thebookofarmaments.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-kindness.html

http://thebookofarmaments.blogspot.com/2011/10/celebrating-our-differences.html

That's my sister in law, Liz.  She's pretty awesome, huh?  I've been thinking a lot about what Liz has written lately.  And what the two of us talk about a lot.  See, Liz and I both have three young kids, 5 years old, 3 years old and 1 . . . so, we have a pretty good grasp on each others day to day life.  (Despite the panic attacks I've caused her with my unexpected fourth pregnancy, she thus far seems to have missed the chance to be pregnant with me yet again.)  We tend to be going through things like teething, potty training and sleepless nights around the same time in life.  Having Liz to go so closely through motherhood with, has been one of the great blessings of my life as a Mom.  There are probably few other people in my life who I'm quite so blatantly honest about what life is like, as I am with Liz, and it's not uncommon for us to spend an hour or better on the phone, really, really regularly.

Unfortunately, hers isn't the only writing I've been dwelling on lately.  I'd gotten an email recently, that kindly informed me I should probably stop complaining so much about sick kids and motherhood, 'cause at least I had kids, and was pregnant, and there are lots of people who'd happily trade me places in a heartbeat.  That I should just be thankful for what I have.

My heart kinda shattered a little when I read that.  It hurt.  I felt guilty.  I cried.  And unfortunately, that's not a super rare occurrence around these parts lately, so once again, my kids just stared at me like I was crazy as I tried to compose myself. 

This last several months (year?!) have been really difficult with sick kids.  It's scary to feel like you have no control over how well your kids are doing.  I can clean my house, wash all laundry on sanitize, use essential oils, hand washing, good hygiene, breastfeed past the American norm for immunity purposes, use a well respected line of children's supplements and herbs, consult doctors, specialists, surgeons, herbalists, naturalists and try my best to feed them a healthful diet . . . and I still can't keep them from getting sick.  I've never felt so helpless in my life.  There's  been scary hospital and ER visits, there's been tests and doctor's appointments and lab results that have gotten screwed up and cost us our chance of finding out what was wrong.  There has been more money and less sleep than I'd planned on.  It's been really difficult.  I try not to complain about it much; I cry to Greg, I unload on those closest to me, and in my own little world of blogs and facebook, I vent a little.  My world has gotten a lot smaller this last year.  I don't leave my house much anymore, it's hard when you have a kid who's had diarrhea for a month.  I get Annie and Ellie off to school, play with Isaac, and maybe run to the grocery store when Greg's home in the evening (getting three kids in and out of carseats with my ever expanding belly is getting more difficult, and tiring, than feels less than worth it a lot of times).  But I'm tired, and I'm run down, and I am often dealing with a child I don't want infecting anyone else, so I don't get out like I used to.  I haven't made it to Church in six weeks.  That, and volunteering in Annie's school, are my last two social outreaches a lot of times.  You would be shocked to see how much I don't mention online.  Every time I post an update about my kids, I've weighed very heavily how badly I need to vent vs. the possible cost of it (i.e., exposing myself to comments and advice that while helpful, sometimes hurts 'cause it feels like people just think that if I could 'figure this out', my babies would be all better.  Which is my own issue -- the vast majority of comments are very sweet and supportive, very few have actually carried any judgement in them.  But, man, those ones hurt.)

I have tried to be really conscientious about complaining about the pregnancy itself.  I am very well aware of loved ones and friends in my life who would give their right arm to be pregnant.  This pregnancy was a big surprise, it took some getting used to.  It was mildly terrifying to feel a total lack of control in my own life that came with an unexpected pregnancy.  But I am grateful.  Those feelings were fleeting, and I am joyous and thankful every time I feel this little boy move and squirm inside me.  I'm so completely head over heels in love with this baby, and I can't wait to meet him.  But it hasn't been easy.  This pregnancy has been, by far, the most emotionally and physically difficult.   Couple the paragraph above with the fact that I am 33 weeks pregnant, and my stress level doubles.  Only Greg could tell you how many nights I've sobbed myself to sleep, crying about how I can't keep Isaac well, what is heaven's name am I going to be able to do for a newborn? Having flashbacks to Isaac in the hospital at 7 months old with RSV, on oxygen and struggling to breathe, and realizing this new baby will be THREE WEEKS OLD at the same time of year.  There is a near crippling terror that fills my most vulnerable moments.  I am tired, I am stressed, I am hormonal and emotional, and I've never been so affected by it all as I am right now.  I would not trade this opportunity to be a Mom to this baby, or any of any of my children, but I have never had such a hard time with it as I'm having now.  I have moments of hopelessness, fear and self-pity that I have never felt before.  They like to grab me in the middle of the night, and try to bury me deep into my pillow until it feels like I can't breathe.  When I'm supposed to be sleeping.  And trust me, I needed that sleep. Fortunately, they are fleeting.  Or at least, aren't often overwhelming.  I have a wonderful support system of more family than a girl could know what to do with, the world's most amazing husband, and beautiful children who remind me every day all that I have to be thankful for.  But this is hard.  I've never felt like this.  I really think the vast majority of it is the hormones of pregnancy, and the sleep deprivation sure isn't helping.  Even when I feel my most desperate and hopeless, there is still a feeling of peace that comes after the storm, that tells me these feelings aren't my whole reality.  They're just one small part, and not even the most important part.  I am so happy with my life, it's just never been so difficult for me.  And I realize that if this is the most 'difficult' thing I've dealt with before, than I'm a very, very lucky woman.  But it is my own personal trial, and therefore it feels very hard, and very personal. 

So before you ever send an email to someone, telling them what they should or should not feel . . . please just remember that you probably only know a fraction of the story, see a corner of the whole picture, and that everyone is fighting their own battle.  Maybe you're strong enough that the same trial wouldn't stress you out, but the other person may not be as strong as you.  And having that pointed out, probably won't help the matter.