Hallpass to be sad

Grab a tissue and settle in because unlike my other posts, this journal entry will have little to no humor. Things are about to get deep. 

Help is not a word that is typically in my vocabulary. Unless you ask my husband, and he will tell you I asked him for help with Spanish homework and tests during our entire time at Georgetown. But let’s be clear about that... he is so smart! I wasn’t asking him for help. I was asking him to do it for me so I’d get a good grade! 

While he and I don’t have the traditional 1950s household where he comes home from work and I serve him a cocktail on a silver platter with my white gloves, just before slapping on some lipstick and sitting down to eat a meal that I slaved over all day long; we do have a traditional household in the sense that I tend to our son while he goes off to be the breadwinner. Because of that, I have grown accustom to being home all day, every day with our little one. I have a routine and a schedule and I’m sorta particular about how things are done. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the perfect parent. But I do know that if I forget the Cheerios when we leave the house, that it will result in a chatostrophic melt down. And I know what time he has to take a nap in order to get even an hour of sleep that night and what time he eats... because the boy can eat!! There’s structure and reason to my madness. And because of that I’m able to predict when he’s probably going to get fussy and the best time to sneak in extra snuggles.  It’s been our routine for over a year now. A habit, if you will. And habits are hard to break. Accepting help in general is going to be hard for me to do. Asking for help will be even harder. Ive gotten used to putting my own needs last and will find that shifting patterns will be an impossible task. 

But this weekend I got a good swift kick in the gut of exactly what it’s going to be like. 

Let me just go ahead and take a break in the pity party to emphasize how amazing my friends and family are. They are beyond supportive and I would be lost without them. My core group knows how difficult it is for me to ask and accept help. So the initiative is just taken on their part. Which I more than appreciate, but truth be told, the burden I’m placing on others is not an easy weight to carry.  Those who are helping, want to help. It is there way of feeling like they are being proactive in fighting this too. And that feeling is so amazing and humbling.  But it’s also hard not to feel like im being a burden to others. 

This weekend was the first time that I really had to take a step back, loosen the reins and accept the help. After the port surgery I was completely unable to do anything on my own. Due to the failure of the port the first time, the surgeon really had to manipulate the device to fit my anatomy properly. This meant digging into my shoulder muscle more than anticipated. Tyler had to dress me and be on baby duty all night long. My mom had to sit with me during the day just to put Raylan in his highchair or to change his diaper. Simple every day duties (ahhh there’s a little humor!! Duty.. Diaper changes... eh. I’ll get better). And my friend Erin, had to submit herself to a room full of children, which is probably her most uncomfortable surroundings, just to help me get Raylan in and out of the car to go to a Halloween party. So this was the moment. The moment where it hit me, I’m not living up to the expectations I set for myself in motherhood. I am having to rely on others to do the important things for me. Watching everyone at that party take care of my son, because I couldn't, felt like my biggest failure. I was blessed to have the help. And grateful for each one of them because I couldn’t do it without them. But the fact that I couldn’t do it. That I was physically unable to take care of my responsibilities as a mom, nearly tore me to pieces. And it was the first time throughout all of this that I felt deeply selfish and sad, watching my son have the best time painting pumpkins with his Aunt Erin and Nonnie while I sat back as a spectator. It was also the first moment that I realized the depth of how much help I’m going to need over the course of the next year. And man, that was a hard and depressing pill  to swallow. 

Raylan is having the best time getting to visit with his family and friends every day. He is too little to have any idea what is going on, and for that I’m so thankful. He is getting loved on by everyone and getting extra attention. His world is great. And I want it to stay that way. He doesn’t think I’m failing. I think that. He doesn’t feel I’ve abandoned him. I feel that. My friends and family don’t think I am burdening them, I put that on myself. And breaking through that wall and allowing the weight to slip off my shoulders is going to be a hard task. But I will do my very best to recognize and accept that this journey is going to take a village. 

So I guess the whole point of this post, besides airing out the negative emotions that are weighing on me, is to just be open and honest with everyone about how this disease is taking over my life. Not just my body. And that somedays are going to be harder than others, mentally, physically and emotionally. I’m not going to be able to smile through it every day. And I’m telling myself that is ok. I’m giving myself a hall pass to be sad sometimes. And not feel like I have to put on a brave face for the sake of others. And I’m telling each and every supporter that I’m lucky to have you. And I’m thankful for your help, even if my stubbornness to accept it may seem ungrateful. The gritty truth is that feeling incapable of doing things on your own isn’t a good feeling. And through the emotions of feeling loved and grateful and thankful and blessed for my pink warrior squad, there’s also the little personal pity party of emotions that is resentful for being in a situation that requires me to have that support. But I can already feel the power of your prayers. And your encouraging words are carrying me day to day. I can’t do this alone, and I’m grateful that I never have to. Even if it means setting my pride aside and embracing the help you all have so graciously offered. I have so much love for everyone of you and my heart is full knowing that I have a team behind me, ready to fight for me when I can’t.