Not quite sure where to begin. It has been a while since I have posted and a lot has happened. And I can't process it all right now. I am hoping that this post will help. William, this blog has been a really anchor for me. It has really helped me to deal with everything and let go of things and understand things and communicate things. I plan on this being my last post. It is a little surreal for me. The end. The completion of something so terrible, so wonderful, so life altering. And the beginning of the rest of our lives. Our "happily ever after." I thought of the title to this last post a month or so ago. It made me smile at the time. But know I feel a little differently about it. These last few weeks have been eye-opening for me. Let me explain. . .
Since we have been home from your last surgery everything has been absolutely wonderful. Even the hard stuff seems bearable. Just regular family craziness. But I have been able to step back and see it for what it is, temporary. I have been able to recognize the tiny, insignificant stuff for what it truly is. Which, for a mother that stays at home all day, can be very liberating. You have been eating well, playing well, sleeping well, healing well. You took your first bath in 3 months. I promise, I have been sponge bathing you all this time. But now you can sit in the shallow water (it needs to be shallow so that your wound doesn't soak in all that bacteria filled water) and play and splash. You returned to your old room with Lance (you have been sleeping in the port-a-crib in Mommy and Daddy's room). And you are making up for lost time by filling your diaper at least two times a day, sometimes up to four times a day :) And best of all, your little, funny, sweet personality is back. You laugh, hug, kiss, spit, scream, tease, and play all day long. You are back. We went for your follow-up visit yesterday. You haven't gained any weight so they want to see you again in a month, but they aren't worried. You look good and act like you are good. All checked out. We don't even have to do any more dressing changes for your ostomy wound. Nothing is left. I haven't done one single thing today that has to do with your illness. And I don't plan on doing another thing ever again.
I remember way back in December thinking of this day. Oh how I prayed it would come. And it did. And I thank my Heavenly Father every day and multiple times a day that it is here. It is a miracle. So, it came as quite a shock to me last week when I realized that I didn't feel happy. I felt "blah." I remember one of the social workers I spoke with at the hospital telling me that feeling "blah" can sometimes mean we are depressed. How can that be? Why do I feel that way now? You are better. Life is better. Everything is supposed to be the way I dreamed it would be. But it's not. I have talked with Daddy and some others about all this and thought about it a lot myself. I realize that while you were sick I held a lot in. I had to be strong for you and for Lance and Olivia. And I had to be strong for me. I couldn't lose it. If I lost it then I would be facing the reality of what was really happening. I think I understood what was happening, it just felt like I was standing on a cliff watching my son almost die and then ever so slowly fight to live. I couldn't jump off the cliff. What good would that do? So, I watched. I kept my distance and dealt with what I facing the best way I knew how. And now that you are better I find myself jumping off that cliff, wanting a closer look. I find myself thinking, "Did that really happen to us?" Before I started this post I read my very first post and watched the slideshow. I lost it. Grief doesn't just go away once the reason for it goes away. I thought it would. But I realize that there are so many different layers to our grief and you have to deal with each one. I was talking with a friend who has dealt with a similar experience in her life and she said that sometimes you need to let yourself "leak" a little. Sometimes you just need to grieve, cry, and be sad for what has happened. I wanted to get on with our life. To start our "happily ever after." But I realize now that our "happily ever after" isn't always going to be easy. I have to be patient. Patient with you, with Lance, with Olivia, with Daddy, and with myself. Our little tragic story is real. Most people have a little tragic story and we are all just plugging away trying to deal with it the best way we know how. I love our little tragic story, because we were all together in it, and we all made it out together. And we all get to heal and grow and learn together. So that is what we will do. Just keep plugging away. Doing those things that will help us and being patient when the help doesn't seem to work fast enough. So, look back and see how many people love you and care for you and made sacrifices for you and know that this world is good and there is always HOPE.
I guess this is goodbye. It's really hard for me to say goodbye. It's hard for me to comprehend that this part of our journey is over. I don't understand why it is hard to let go. But, writing to you has meant so much to me. It kept me connected to my little boy for those weeks when I had no other way of communicating with you. It helped me reach out to you and to everyone that loves you and was so very concerned for you. In a small way, it saved me. And I am sure it will save me over and over again as I read and re-read. So much has happened. So much good has come for your "pause" in life. I love you. I am so very proud of you. I hope that more than anything you can feel that. I hope that my words will forever be in your heart and mind. William, always remember that your Mommy loves you.
What a beautiful post, Betsy. I'm sorry that the grief is just hitting you know, but I am sure you will work through it and be stronger for it. Thanks for sharing your journey! I am so thrilled that you got your happy ending.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Heidi
I am so happy that your family has come out on the other side of this long medical journey that you have been on.
ReplyDeleteBetsy, what you are going through is totally normal. I think when we are in the middle of a medical crisis and are all consumed in keeping our little sick one as comfortable as possible, and our other children still feeling vitally important in our lives, as well as everything else we have to do; it can feel like we are juggling knives. When we are blessed enough to come through the nightmare it can be scary to let those knives fall if you know what I mean.
I know I felt like I could not let go of my emotions because I was afraid of letting a little go (during that year and a half) because then I was afraid I would not be able to get all of that emotion back in tact again. I was also afraid that people might see it as a weakness, like I couldnt handle what my baby, my children and I were going through. I wanted to be strong because Dallin was so strong for going through what he did, I had to be strong too. When it was over, it was hard to let go and feel the emotions, it almost felt foreign. I felt a little lost, like I had nothing important to do to keep him healthy...and your right, "blah".
It does get better, it will take time but it does get better. You and your family have been through a nightmare and have been blessed enough to triumph and come through for the better. You have gained strength and formed a bond you may not realize at this time. There are still times once in a while that a smell, sound, or emotion will bring it all back for a moment, but those times are less and less as the years go by. And, believe it or not, I now thing of the good things that came from it first, not the bad.
As hard and horrible as what your family has gone through has been, it still has blessed you in ways that nothing else like a childs illness could. It is a strange thing to say and think about, but it is true.
Take your time and be easy on yourself. Give yourself time and permission to feel all of the things that you could not feel then...it is appropriate now, for you all. You and Mark have showed us all what its like to go through such a trial with grace and strength.
I couldnt be happier for your family!
Casey
Betsy,
ReplyDeleteI didn't even know you'd posted again until today. I love what you wrote because it's so well said and is exactly how I feel. It's very hard to explain to people who haven't gone through it and you described it perfectly. I'm happy to be able to connect with you as we both try to find our happily ever after.
Becca
Betsy,
ReplyDeleteThat was just beautiful. As I was reading this final posting I was caught off guard by the swell of emotion that crept up in me. I found myself sobbing as I read this. I guess because we all go through something at one time or another in our life, and I can relate to some of your emotions. I think that we all feel to some degree that longing for a "happily ever after". What your sweet family endured is nothing short of a miracle. Lately, I have to keep repeating to myself..."Attitude is a choice!" The things we go through just get soooo hard sometimes. Hang it there. You are so strong and so loved by many!
Heather
So wonderful to see you last week. Thanks for all your posts!
ReplyDeleteWhile you grieve, just know that the rest of us are celebrating for you and the beginning of your "Happily Ever After." So glad that everything has worked out for the best in this particular challenge in your lives. I'm sure there will be many still to come, but hopefully this will help give you a stronger foundation from which to face and conquer the rest of forever! We love you guys!
ReplyDeleteI love you Betsy! You have been so strong and have done so much. I have been where are and felt the same way. Hang in there. It will be okay. I agree in giving yourself permission to feel the things you are feeling. I know I haven't been great about calling you, but know that you are always in my thoughts! :)
ReplyDelete