It’s been three years today since The Doubt went away.
I had thought those years, 2008-2012, were to be my “Low”
for this life. I was challenged beyond
anything I had ever experienced before.
I had led a remarkably ordinary life up until I walked smack into the
roadblock of infertility, and it stung all the more because I hadn’t seen it
coming. As reality slowly bore down upon
us, month after lonely month, I doubted.
I doubted myself and my body and many of the choices I had made in this
life. I doubted my Savior. Mostly, I doubted if I would ever become a
mama. One can only wait and wonder from
a place of optimism for so long. To
simply wait and to simply wonder is innocent enough, but it takes a superhuman
strength and faith to keep resentment, fear, and bitterness from creeping in,
quickly turning wonder to doubt. And
doubt can be ugly. Doubt has the power
to take darkness from the issue at hand, and cast it upon every other facet of
your life… even upon things you never doubted before. Doubt shreds at every confidence you once
possessed.
I know. That’s an ugly, ugly way to start my first
post of the new year. Yes. Of the YEAR.
I’m sorry about that. I have my
reasons… I’ll get to that… ;)
But I have to start with the ugliness of doubt for you to
fully understand the significance of May 1.
When I say that May 1, 2012 was, and still remains The Happiest Day of
my Life, I don’t say that lightly. There
are a lot of other contenders. The day I
married my hubby - June 10 - or the day, 20 months earlier, that he asked me to
– October 22. The day I finished my first half-marathon – May 21 – or the day I
first held my daughter – May 28. The day
we became a forever family – February 28.
Happy days are so happy partly because they shatter
doubt. Will I ever find someone to spend
my life with? YUP! Engaged! Married! Will I ever get control of my body and do
something physically amazing? BOOM! Half-marathon. Five times, thank you very much. Will I ever
be a mom? Yes. Here, hold her. And nine months later… go ahead and hold her
forever.
But to hold her, first someone has to give her to you. And those years of doubt came about because
we couldn’t “give” her to each other, the way most people can, without some
extra help. It hurts to ask for
help. It hurts to wait for help. And on May 1, the day she was given to us,
the day we got our “yes,” we crawled out of this dark hole of pain and fear and
insecurity and all the other ugly things that live under the shadow of doubt…
and felt pure sunshine for the first time in a REALLY long time. No more shadow. A child would be ours. SHE would be ours.
I’d never before had to fight that hard, that long, for
anything. Throwing off that shadow of doubt was truly The Happiest Day of my
Life.
So like I said, it’s been three years today. As you can imagine, the years have distanced
me from the doubt and pain, dulling it day by day. I got swept up in being a
mama, as I knew I would. I got swept up
in being HER mama. She is, as many of
you know, a child of unique needs and challenges. Please take some time to look into Sensory
Processing Disorder if you wish to know more about these challenges that drive
our lives at this point. We’re pretty
broken down. We push and we learn and we
try and, more often than not, we hit a brick wall. We’re not so different, really, from many of
you who struggle with your kiddo(s) or any number of other storms you might be
weathering.
I wait and wonder once again. I wait for her to mellow out, to catch
up. I wonder when. I wonder how.
I wonder IF. Resentment,
bitterness, fear… they’re not far behind.
I’m scared for her. I’m scared
for me. I see the frustration and the
desperation in the trained professionals we have enlisted to help her, and I’m
scared for them, too. I’m losing little
bits and pieces of myself. Doubt once against shreds against every confidence I
possess. It’s darker and heavier than I
remember. This is hard. REALLY hard.
This – the waiting, the wondering, the constant struggle to break
through whatever it is inside of her that’s causing her so much anxiety – this is
my new, exhausting, all-consuming Life Low. For now, anyway :)
I have learned a lot.
I’ve learned a lot about doctors and insurance and all these “conditions”
they say she has. I’ve learned about
parenting and judging and choices. I’ve
learned about patience and time management and sacrifice and what it means to
have another person actually SUCK THE LIFE out of you in 30 seconds flat. I’ve learned that when dreams come true, new
dreams take their place. It’s easy to
forget that the child staring you in the face – screaming in your face – was once
The Dream. I’ve learned that even on the
good days, the Milestone Days, the facebook-worthy days… it’s still possible to
totally take for granted the one thing you SWORE you would never, ever, EVER
take for granted.
Due to some personal stuff, I’ve been forced over the past
few weeks to dredge up some old feelings I thought I’d never feel again. Feelings from the last time I thought I was
living my life’s lowest low. I’ve
marveled once again at how easily, how quickly I forgot what it’s like to long
for a child. What a fight it even was to
call her mine. How much I longed for
freedom and control in creating my little family. It’s been a reality check, if nothing else, a
slap-in-the-face reminder, amidst the chaos, of just how blessed we truly are.
And just in time for today.
May 1. The 3-year anniversary of
The Happiest Day of my Life. So far,
that is. You see, the Happiest Days are
the ones that follow the Darkest Days. And
if I’m right about that, then it stands to reason that we have a new Happiest
Day on the horizon. I don’t know
when. Maybe it will be the first time
she says “I love you.” Maybe it will be the first time she sings in church with
other children. Maybe it will be the day
we finally, gratefully close her Private Therapy files. The day is coming, though, I KNOW it is
coming, that we will break through Sensory Processing Disorder. It will never fully go away. But the day is coming that she will be strong
enough to shoulder most of it herself.
It is our job to guide and lead her to that place. It is a hard, dark, exhausting job. But so is everything that’s worth doing. That’s how we earn our Happiest of Days.
Whatever you’re fighting with right now – whether it’s The
Lowest of Lows, or just a Little Low – take a step back from it for a moment
and think about your last Low. What was
it you were fighting for? How did you pull through? What did you learn? No, it’s
not going to solve what you’re fighting now.
But it might shift your perspective.
Shake things up a little bit. Lately,
I’m struggling against some of the greatest fear and insecurity I’ve ever
faced. But when I think back to the last
time, WHEW does that give me strength. A
heavy-handed reminder of exactly what it is that I’m fighting for. A little power and confidence to face these
new challenges. A reminder of all that I
HAVE as I face the pain and doubt of what I do not have.
With everything going on lately – the stress of escalating
SPD, the resurgence of old, painful feelings, the emotional anniversary of the
happy day we got our YES – it’s no wonder I cried ugly tears for a few minutes
in the car today when that song came on the radio. That song that was my Adoption Anthem. That song that was (probably not written
regarding anything remotely close to what we experienced but, whatever, I will
swear until the day I die was) written about our journey. That song that used to make me cry instantly,
but I had slowly been tuning out as the years went by. Well, today it got me. It got me crying. It got me thinking, and it finally got me
writing again.
Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything,
take away
What's standing in front of
me
Every breath, every hour has
come to this
One step closer
I have died everyday,
waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I
have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand
more
And all along I believed, I
would find you
Time has brought your heart
to me, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand
more
Thank you for sharing this.
ReplyDelete