True Confessions

It is easy to write when the world looks hopeful and the pages are turning exactly how was dreamed or better yet, with enfolding joy, surprises and exciting adventures. Yet, when with each turn of the page, the world grows a little darker, scarier and more uncertain, it is hard to express one's emotions without sounding gloom or discouraging.

That has been my deepest dilemma in continuing to write in this blog. How do I portray the accurate unfoldings in my life's journey without sounding of despair and hopelessness? How do I accurately record my daily happenings when, for the most part, breathing, staying conscience, and just continuing to rise each morning and fall into bed at night is an accomplishment in its own right?

So, despite my best efforts, if this post seems pitiful, I have not accomplished my feelings.

Life these days has become much more tedious. I do all in my power to drag myself out of bed, usually with Thomas having to physically help me to stand. I take each step, while trying not to wince because of the pain, for when I do, I can see the worry in Thomas' eyes and the fear in Hayden's. I try to muster all my strength to just get dressed and make it to the kitchen. Once there, I take slow bites of the wonderful breakfast that Thomas has made. I try to keep down as much as I can while fighting back the nausea. After family prayer, we all get in the car to drop Hayden off for his daily adventures with wonderful family members, and Thomas drives me to work.

As we pull up in front of my dad's house, I look longingly into Thomas' eyes. I'd give anything to not have to walk in those doors and utilize all my strength to try and continue working. We desperately need the money to pay for the outrageous medical bills that we are incurring. I walk slowly to the door, diet coke in hand, all the way to the door, praying for the strength and endurance to make it to 3pm.

At 3 pm, one of the most amazing women show up to pick me up, we gather Hayden and either head for a doctor's appointment, three days a week, or on Tues/Thurs back home.

The doctor's office is filled with more news of deteriorating organs/abilities/increased pain with little or no hope of ever recovering/improving. More issues are discovered with doctors baffled as to how to treat the symptoms without increasing problems in other areas. Some days I cry with the news, others I am just so thankful to have lived through an ordeal that most doctors are deeming in and of itself miraculous.

The way home is filled with sitting/leaning in the car to try to avoid any exposure to the sun. Living in the summer in Arizona presents quite a problem in this area. I wear sunglasses, a hat and try to shield my eyes and face from the sun as much as possible. Any direct contact with my dear friend, the sun, and I quickly pass out.

As I take the final steps into my house. I breathe a sigh of relief as I walk through the doors to home. I will myself to the couch, trying to gather any and all necessities that I will need for the next couple of hours with me. As I fall into the protection of the cushioned leather couch, I take a deep breath. I made it one more day. My body melts and basically just gives up. It has conquered more than should be expected of it these days.

Hayden bounds in, excited to have his mom home. He is ready to play but is well aware of my limitations. We watch movies, color on the couch, talk, tell stories and he builds legos at my feet. I wish I could do more with him. As the clock clicks ever closer to the dinner hour, the guilt creeps in more. I should be up. I should be cooking. I should be doing laundry. I should be cleaning. After all, I am still a mom and a wife and I should be doing the things for my family that I so long to do for them.

Most days, when Thomas walks in the door, I have NOT been able to pull myself back up off the couch, I try, but trying too hard brings on seizures and passing out and I know that scares Hayden more than me just sitting still. That poor boy should NOT know how to bring mom back from passing out, how to stop a seizure and who to call when things go on too long or when he is scared. I cannot talk about these things without the flood gates being opened. How do I cope with causing so much fear in my own son that I would die for?

So, I sit on the couch while Thomas makes dinner, trys to keep the house together, grocery shops, plays with Hayden, and does all the things that I used to do, or we did together. Guilt creeps in. I long for my old life. I long to do the things that once I used to laugh about being rich and never having to do again. Now, I do not do those things. Not out of riches but out of losing the ability to. It is lonely. It is demoralizing. It reeks havoc in my heart.

Then, my dear son will bring over the scriptures, we read together, we talk, we discuss the gospel. Eternity is put back into perspective. My life mission is again clear. I was allowed to stay on the earth for one reason. I was given the opportunity to continue to be Hayden's mom and Thomas' wife. I wasn't blessed with my health back, strength to do the things I consider necessities not wants, I am not able to even hold myself up in the heat and sun, yet I am still my precious little boy's mom. I can still teach him the valuable truths contained in the scriptures. I can teach Hayden that we were sent here for one reason. To prove to our Father in Heaven and ourselves that we will follow the Savior. We will live the gospel. That no matter what challenges, trials and problems come into our lives that we will remain faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ, His teachings and that no matter what obstacles lie in our path that with the Lord's help, we are able to have enough strength, enough fortitude, enough endurance to walk this path of life with our Savior's help.

As I lay down in bed, struggling to breathe, struggling to withstand the nausea and struggling to fight the everlasting pain so that I can find some rest, my mind is reassured, my heart is comforted, I feel immense gratitude that I may not have a lot left to offer in this world, but I do have the most important thing left, my testimony and my relationship with my Savior, Jesus Christ. I pray I am blessed to remain on this earth long enough to instill in Hayden just how important his Savior is and secure a strong enough testimony of the Savior's goodness and mercy in Hayden's life that it will be the strength to him, the rock of his foundation and the rod that leads him back to his Father in Heaven.

If I am able to continue teaching him, being an example of holding on when it is not easy and always finding the tender mercies the Lord sends, then I will be forever grateful. Because, no matter how much pain I am in, no matter how many times I fall and pass out, no matter how many setbacks that I encounter, one thing is for certain, my blessings and tender mercies from the Lord far outweigh any trial or obstacle that has been placed in my path. My Savior sustains me in my trial, comforts me when faint, and has walked every step of this journey with me. To that I testify. He lives. He loves me, even in my weakness, even with my imperfections. What better gift and blessing could I ever ask or hope for?