I recently had one of those moments… and then this morning an epiphany (or at least I’m trying to).
When everything in life piles up and hard decisions are forced to be made- ones that you can’t come back to later, or change your mind in a few years- nights get filled with less sleep and more anxiety. Some parts of my life make me think why me? . Maybe I was a monster in my last life… I feel inundated by Life. I don’t get it. I literally feel like I never get a break. I just want to know what it is like to not struggle, to not fear the mail, or the rising of the sun indicating another day. I want to know what it is like to have nothing to do, no one to call.
I take on more projects. More work. I try to distract myself from being alone with my thoughts- alone in my head. That’s the most dangerous place to be. It leads to fantasies about my Dad still being alive, and how I would never have moved to Rhode Island… or left private school, or probably even gotten tattoos (which I don’t regret, but I really don’t need anymore indicators pointing to me as the black sheep of the family).
I love my family, and everything has a way of coming together, but coming together doesn’t always mean the way we expected. I never expected Addie to have a form of dwarfism. It’s taken a lot of time and energy to learn about it myself, as well as educate others. There are daily reminders from strangers that she looks different, and she’s not even a year and a half. I want to be a good example, so I smile at everyone who has an opinion, but there are those feelings of fire and burning that rise up in me. That push my emotions to a limit only Addie’s sweet face can pull me back from. Perhaps it’s because we are always somewhere (the zoo, the mall, The YMCA, the many local parks and beaches, food shopping, window shopping…)- it’s rare we spend a whole day inside- that Addie has more exposure to people and thus more opportunities arise for people to see a difference.
Life is unexpected for everyone- expecting things is just a recipe for disappointment and expectations that are not always inline with reality- and Life truly gave me a break. I have a child that eats anything, sleeps though the night, has advanced verbal skills (regardless of the fact that she had limited hearing for the first 10 months of her life), she loves taking baths and playing in the pool, she doesn’t mind sharing (yet), and her snuggles are the best I’ve ever experienced.
Our little family has been discussing a difficult decision. But it’s not the end of the world… and I know we are strong enough to tackle anything. Now to make my heart believe what my head already knows, and show this pity party the door.
Doula Kristen says
You know, it’s ok to feel down sometimes. If we don’t have some lows, we wouldn’t appreciate the highs. And you manage it ALL so well…with evening runs, talking with good friends, cuddling Dave & Addie. You are healthy (in mind AND body), strong, open-hearted, and diligent – getting things done. Remember to be patient with yourself (you don’t need to have all the answers right now) and continue forgiving others for their ignorance and educating them. The world needs more Chelleys and more Addies – her smile is amazing and contagious…and she has already shared more joy than some have in a lifetime. Happiness and Love make life fulfilling…and your family has that!
Susan E. Worth LaManna says
Amen…and we love you!
Janice silvestro says
Chelley, You’re allowed some quiet day without bad or interfering thoughts running through your head. You have helped make me such a proud grandma of achon twins. You have blessed me with your very pure heart. You are one great Mom .Thank You, Jan Silvestro
Lori Brooks says
You’re a wonderful mama, an inspiration for so many.
lilly ink says
Ah yes, We hear you, loud and clear. I myself also ask that question from time to time, feeling a bit ashamed of myself, but still wondering why ‘we’ were the chosen one out of 25 000 or 10 000 or whatever.
Loving our ‘special blessing’ beyond what words can describe, but fearing for her, crying softly for her, praying, wishing we could protect her from what lay ahead.
We, you, all of us – we’re only human. Don’t be to hard on yourself.
For it is clear – that Addie could not have asked for a better and more involved mother that you. And you’ve got no idea how much you help and teach us – we, who are actually still in shock, sort of, and who walk behind you.
Thanks for leading the way, and for answering our questions even before it is asked.
Wishing you and your family and all of us who share this, Amazing Grace.