I've been feeling SO weary lately.
And it's not really like I have a solid reason for it. Not that changes in emotional tides are ever easy to pinpoint anyway.
But generally speaking...I'm wiped. Zonked. Bone tired. Ready to just fold up and sink to the floor. If I were even inflated at all, that is.
It struck me yesterday as I was collecting all our various junk scattered around Grams' yard. My parents installed a nice big pool this year for the grandkiddies. And it's been hot as heck here...so we're taking advantage. In fact, I had driven straight there after Trevy's Monday out-patient Speech. And we'd spent about an hour splashing around and attempting to teach Trevy how to keep his mouth closed so he'd stop freaking me out with all that water intake. Am I the only parent who had nightmares about dry drowning after the Today Show's segment last summer?
Anyway...
It struck me as I willed myself to bend over just one more time. To pick up just one more thing. All while keeping a vigilant eye on Trevy...who is magnetically drawn to all things electrical or climbable.
I am just so utterly exhausted.
And he is just SO much work.
Sometimes it catches up to me. The fact that I've been chasing the cognitive equivalent of a 12 month old (give or take) for the past two years. Sometimes it catches up to me. And then suddenly I'm wondering how am I going to manage it when he's 10 lbs heavier? When the monkey leash no longer holds him by my side? When he can reach things on the next shelf up? When he can throw things that won't just injure a toe but will shatter a window?
Right about now is when I start having a mini panic attack. And my heart screams I can't do this anymore. I just can't do this. He's so beautiful. And I love him so much it hurts. And he's made a handful of forward developmental gains. But God...I can't do it. I'm too exhausted. My heart is empty. I have no energy left. I can't chase him one more step. I can't take him to one more therapy session. I can't try to teach him the same thing one more time. I can't exhale one more advocating word. Or pursue one more insurance approval. Lately I've felt like I can't even get out of bed one more day. And I certainly can't give an ounce of concern for how I look if I manage to get my feet under me. I can't deal with the guilt over not accepting one more play date invite. I swear to God I can't handle one more conversation with someone who tells me how blessed I am. Or who thinks I'm overly negative about Trevor's development...while their typical 3 year old runs cognitive circles around my son. I can't handle another parent of typical children telling me how they worry too. It is not the same. And by God I can't see one more suspicious episode. My heart is hanging by a thread. And I want out. I want my mommy! I want to curl up and sleep. Indefinitely.
Or take that big floaty pool chair. And set sail on the high seas. Drift away...
It struck me as I was picking up all our various junk scattered around Grams' yard. That sometimes it catches up to me.
Hope you weren't waiting for some poignant spiritual truth.
Cause I've got nothin' but buckets of weary worn out mommy heart.
Although I'm certain there must be a lesson somewhere at the end of my rope?
17 comments:
It's hard. I wish there were words that would make the hard part go away but there aren't. Hopefully getting it out helps a teeny bit. Hugs to you my friend!
i dont know what else there is to say.
i love you danielle.
King David said similar things and his conclusion was always the same. When I feel similar to what you describe, I run to the Psalms. Love you and pray for you all and miss you. Bibi
I have been in that place, Danielle. When I feel like I have nothing left to give. When I have to scrape myself out of bed in the morning and I can't wait to climb back in at night to escape. To escape the struggles, the disappointments, the unknowns. I'm so sorry you're in that place right now.
It's hard enough being a parent . . . I cannot imagine how hard it is to be a parent of a "special needs" kiddo. I cannot sympathize with your exhaustion or frustrations or fears. I cannot say that I understand or I've been there - I don't and I haven't and I would be lying. What I can say is that I've been reading for a while and I find your strength amazing. I'm pretty sure I would've lost it by now, but you keep pressing on. Keep on keeping on and I, as well as many others, will pray for God to give you the strength to take each day as it comes.
wow Danielle... all what you wrote its going in my head sometimes... or always?? Hang on there Dear, big hugs....
Maybe grams can take Trevy for an overnight? So you can really sleep? It's all I can think of right now.
It's hard, we know that, but you will find a way to balance everything.
With all the sun and swimming is he sleeping good at night? Going to bed earlier? If so, take advantage and go to bed early too!
ditto what a wife and mother said.
And I'm running to Psalms before it catches me ever (even if I can't really know what catches up to you).
My bucket is empty of ways to help you stay ahead of it, before it catches up to you. Only platitudes in my bucket. Emptying my bucket and running to Psalms. For you.
Barbara
You girls are all so sweet. Thank you for being my sounding board. Sometimes I just need to detox out all the ick inside. Instead of letting it fester. I suppose that's what I was doing today. And it did feel better letting it all out. Probably had something to do with all the cyber love that has been coming my way. I'm thinking I should do this more often.
::smile::
...danielle
Awww....Danielle.
It's good for the soul to let it all out...in one way or another it'll come whether we want it to or not!
Yes, my situation is different, but I get it. I get the absolute exhaustion, the always fighting...oops, mean advocating, feels like a fight to me....running, running, running....looking for signs of seizures....it wears you down to the core. For me, it was when things had "relaxed" a bit and W was progressing, schedules were in place, that I found my joy was gone...I just wanted to lay down. It's like when you get a pretend breather...when ya just can't take it anymore.
You know what Danielle?
It's ok. It's okay to feel the way you're feeling. It makes complete sense and shows that you are a loving, breathing, normal human!
Although....I sure wish for you a dose of blissfully unaware...sometimes that would be lovely! I have a family member who has 6 kids under the age of 12 and they are all special needs and she just seems to be so peaceful and content and okay...and blissfully unaware. Maybe not the best....but man it would be a nice treat!
Hang in there sweetie. Let people help you....professionals, friends, church,...whoever offers to help by all means take it!
You're doing awesome! You inspire me. Even in the moments you feel blah...you're inspiring other moms like me.
Hugs,
Margo
I don't remember how I survived IS and a month of ACTH. I know I was a shadow for some time and I had to rely on my husband and family and even Jacob to materialize again. Since then I have drifted away a few times in a bowl of ice cream but I always come back. And I do remember when I was faced with the possibility of a relapse, I shouted out in the dark to another mother who answered me and that was all I needed. You have given Trevy the chance to relive his childhood. The world is his. The danger will pass. And your exhaustion will be a measure of his greatest achievements.
So much of what you say rings bells for me too.
Especially the worrying about the future, I do, every day, what will it hold? what will he be able to do? will he be able to look after himself, ever?
Then he turns and smiles and me and it eases, for a while.
It is still early days, for you & me, we should give ourselves a break :)
kt xx
The comment from Jacob's Mommy reminded me so something - when demands/stress is incredibly high adrenaline is high (in your body). 'Catching up' can literally be a drop in adrenaline (crash) giving you that deep exhaustion. I think. If it helps, explore this with more research or your own medical professionals. (I think David dropped this into my bucket.)
For me, a physiological reason is more acceptable. Barbara
I love your new blog design, by the way.
You pretty much summed up one of about ten reasons I was offline for five weeks. Feelings of just being tired and worn out. They can be overwhelming at times, and I think all of us can relate, no matter what slice of Hell we are being served that day.
And for what you said in my blog Monday. Thanks for that. It was...well, very special.
You don't know where you get the energy but you just do. You pull yourself out of bed no matter how much your body aches. No matter how hard you want to cry. You just do it. Not because you are almighty but because you have no other choice. Because you just love your kids that much. And it keeps you going. Sophie is 43 pounds and I am still lugging her around...peeling her off the ground in the middle of some public outing because she is throwing her dead weight fit...and so much more. I think about Cyndi and Colby and find strength in those that have been doing this much longer than me. I love you.
I'm actually really glad I read your last few posts out of order or I would have been bawling with you on this one. I've wondered the same things. Like the more Austin grows, the harder it is. I shutter to think of future baths and lugging him out of the tub, what in the world I'll do when he outgrows his stroller, or how on earth will I will feed him when he is too big for the high chair! Thank goodness that's not today and I can't get through this day when I'm so worried about tomorrow. A year ago I wondered how the heck I would handle him in a year. And somehow...I'm doing it. Physically and emotionally. I don't know how, but I am. Just as you are and will.
A tad longer than I intended, but this post got me. Love ya and, once again, so glad I read today's post first!
((((HUGS))))
I have those days too. and Oliver is only 8 months. It's when I look forward to when he's 3 or 4 or 20. And think I'll be having to do even MORE work for him, to help him. I just want to scream "I QUIT!". But quit what? I can't quit, and that's the hardest part some days. Let yourself vent, because there isn't much we can do beyond that on those down days.
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