Being a mom is hard. Like, really hard. And not for the reasons everyone assumes. Yes, getting little to no sleep the last 2+ years has been an adjustment. Yes, constantly changing diapers & trying to keep up with housework can be challenging. But the hard I’m talking about, can’t be seen. The hard I’m talking about lives inside. The overly critical, selfless, perfectionist, who grows inside any woman called “mom.” For me, she reared her ugly face after having Wyatt. I had witnessed glimpses of her when Lincoln was born, but she kept herself hidden until recently.
No one talks about her. Heck, I even pretended she didn’t exist. But, I’ve become comfortable talking about her now, after finding myself locked in a closet, sobbing & feeling so alone, all the while Jason and the boys sitting downstairs, none the wiser. That was my lowest of lows. And it happened about a month ago.
Now, a lot happened before I got to that point. Some of you may be able to guess where this is going..broken femur..febrile seizure. Eventually, yes. I will get there. But not quite yet. I want to share all of my experiences with you guys, in due time. Many of you, if not all of you, know some of the details, but no one knows all of the details. Each event deserves its own spotlight, and I am going to give that spotlight.
Right now though, I am going to tell you all that I am okay. I am learning and growing each day. I’ve come so far over the last 6 months, although I have a long way to go, I am proud of myself. I am able to ask for help, to be vulnerable, though it is still a struggle, let me tell you. I am beyond grateful for what God has blessed me with, and now more than ever, I am aware of all that I have. I’m the first to admit, taking things for granted, it happens. My eyes are open though, wide open. Never again will I look past what is right in front of me.