One thought leads to another...

Betsy in utero circa April 2004

20 weeks gestation

~as perfect then as she is now~

I'm was thinking the other day that I need to get my mind-body connection back in gear.  It was only a short year ago, that I weighed 25lbs or so less than I do now.  And, I was 30lbs + lighter a year previous to that. 

Then, I thought about why I was the thinest I'd ever been since puberty, and I realized it was because my life was in a constent state of upheaval.  I may have been thin, but was very unhealthy.  There was NO mind-body connection.  At all.  My body went through the motions it had to, and my mind was else where...always elsewhere.  Worrying.  About Betsy.  About the future.  All of the whys, ifs, hows.  Some days I had to remind myself to eat.  I was tired all the time, I was cranky, I was stressed, I was starving.

So, then, of course, I started thinking about that time in my life.  It was desperate.  I think my weight gain is a sign that I'm healing.  I am not occupied by so many of those thoughts and questions. 

But, last night, while I lay in bed listening to Jake snore, I worried. 

Then, I cried.  For the first time in a long time, I cried without anyone knowing.  I cried silently in my own pain.  I thought about what a sight it would be if she could ride a bike, what her speaking voice would sound like and what she would like to talk about, I wondered if she would like to read books like her brothers, what her handwriting would look like, if she would insist on picking out her own outfits and dressing herself like her sister.  I know there's a lot going on her little brain, and, then, I wondered how she'll feel when I have to change her pants when she's 12.  I wondered if she'll ever find someone she loves more than her dad and me.  Or if she'll ever want to branch out and go live somewhere else. 

Then, I did something I haven't done in years.  I wondered why and I got angry.  I wondered what happened.  I wondered how it's possible for a mother and daughter to have such a profound interconnectedness and glorious bond when it's blatantly clear that connection (in the physical sense) was so lacking when she was in utero.  Why did my body ignore her needs when she was growing and developing inside of me?  I was mad at the injustice of her dad feeling compelled to shed tears of pride and happiness because she finally sat through a dental exam on Saturday.  Yes, a dental exam.  That wouldn't have happend if she were a typical kid.

I got angry at God for entrusting me with such a huge responsibility, as if it's not difficult enough raising children.  Why did he think I was equipped?  Why not someone else? 

Then, I got scared.  Scared, that my life, to a large degee, has been predetermined.  That control over certain things is not my own.  A plan was laid out without my input.

However, with parts of the plan, you're given a choice.  I believe without a doubt that His plan for me included this choice; to take this bump in the road and grow, and learn, and flourish from it or dig a hole, get in it, pull the dirt over my head, and rot. It seems simple enough, but both carry the weight of heavy consequences.  Some days, especially in the beginning, I wanted to choose the latter.  But, it's clear to me that isn't what's best for me or my family.

But, it's still hard. 

I heard the other day, that a friend of a friend, had a baby with a rare chromosomal defect.  Her and her husband are having a very difficult time.  It made me sad.  I know how alone they feel.  How isolated.  No one around them understands.  The helplessness they are undoubtedly feeling by not knowing what the future holds.  It's overwhelming to say the least.  No one ever asks or wishes for this. 

Hearing of this couple made me realize how far Jake and I have come.  In only 5 years. 

The thing we would have never asked for has brought more joy than we could have imagined.  That 'thing' is Betsy.

Thinking about getting healthy to thoughts of being the blessed mother to a child with special needs.  All in the matter of an hour.  It was exhausting.

Incidentally, after all that, I DID sleep like a baby.