It is certainly crazy how quickly things can change.
A little over 2 weeks ago, I was returning home from a trip to Nashville with my female in-laws. My husband had just treated to me to an amazing night at a Sara Bareilles concert in Cincinnati. I had just consumed the most incredible pork BBQ sandwich I had ever tasted.
I had no idea I would soon be dealing with advanced cervical shortening, threatened preterm labor, modified bed rest, and now gestational diabetes. Yep…the results are in. Failed.
I had no idea that my calendar would soon be filled with weekly ultrasounds, weekly non-stress tests, and now meetings with a nutritionist and diabetes educator.
I cancelled over ten photo sessions and won’t be teaching my preschool class until January.
I, the mother who resigned from her full-time position to stay home with her children, have had to take them to daycare everyday because I cannot keep up with their needs, wants, and demands when I am home alone with them.
I have experienced the guilt of “taking it easy” and “getting off my feet” because it feels completely unnatural to not be interacting with my children in the ways I am used to…to not be cooking every meal (or any meal)…to not be running from point A to point B to back to point A and so on and so forth.
My head has been spinning, and I would be lying if I said I was taking it all in stride. I have broken down. I have cried puddles of tears. I have lost my temper out of frustration. I have questioned why this was happening as if surely someone else was more deserving of this situation than me.
But I think there comes a point when you just get tired of feeling sorry for yourself. It feels gross and like a massive waste of time and energy. And right now, I can’t afford to waste neither time nor energy.
There’s a popular saying, “When it rains, it pours.” My, haven’t I felt the meaning of those words lately.
But I also know that when it rains, all kinds of good things happen.
Like…the grass turns greener.
Flowers can grow.
And the ground softens.
We get free car washes.
I love the smell of rain.
And who doesn’t love the sound as it hits the rooftop and windows?
We have been completely overwhelmed by the generosity of our friends and family throughout this ordeal. From encouraging Facebook comments and messages to texts and phone calls…and meal deliveries and taking our girls out so that they could have some fun and I could get some rest…and the prayers. It has all been a tremendous blessing born from a pretty miserable and frightening situation.
Each passing day is a victory. Each passing week is a triumph.
And sometimes, each passing hour calls for a celebration.
But I am OK.
Bring on the rain.
