2-24-17

Sometimes, life just seems unfair and I hate it. I hate that I even feel that way. I’m angry and I’m angry that I’m angry. I feel guilty about it. I should just be thankful. Take the hand I’ve been dealt and accept it and move on. Things could always be worse. And I know I am blessed. For as much suffering as we’ve been through, we have been given much. I’m not so blinded by anger and self pity that I don’t see how gracious God has been with us. It just really sucks to have to walk down THIS path of suffering. Parenting is hard. I both envy and hate the people that make it look easy. I see the “rose-colored” Instagram and Facebook posts. I realize people like to put their best foot forward, (I know I’m probably guilty too) but it’s just salt on the wound. I see people with more Children than me who somehow are able to pursue hobbies, run a business, beautify their homes and whatever else people are doing, and the feelings of inadequacy and honestly, jealousy are just crushing. I hate feeling that way. I hate wishing things were different. I hate when I see your Facebook posts about your conversations with your children because it hurts. I waited THREE YEARS, just to hear Norah call me mommy, how many more years before I can have a conversation with her? How long before I can ask, “Norah,how was school?” And not have her just repeat the question back to me because she does t know what I’m asking? How long before I say “I love you Norah” and she replies with “I love you mommy” instead of just repeating back to me “I love you Norah.” Everything is a fight. Every typical struggle magnified by the altered architecture of her brain. I’m exhausted. Special Pre-K program, therapies, diet modifications, vitamins and supplants, tests/lab work, and IEPs. I feel like I am constantly being thrust into the fire. I feel like I just can’t handle anymore and that makes me feel inadequate as a mother. I feel guilty because I am overwhelmed. I’m not good enough or strong enough or patient enough. I am just so burned out. People have asked me how I’m doing and in the split second it takes to respond with an I’m ok or I’m fine, I wonder, how am I suppose to even answer that? There is so much I could unload and do you really want to hear it all? I’m a mess, can’t you tell? My heart is a mess, bruised and broken and heavy. Some days are bettmer than others, but today is not one of those days. 
I am feeble and crushed; I groan because of the tumult of my heart. O Lord, all my longing is before you; my sighing is not hidden from you. My heart throbs; my strength fails me, and the light of my eyes-it also has gone from me. – Psalm 38:8-10

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