Words reverberated against hollow walls, deafening me, causing the world to spin and the ground to come out from under my feet.
I had to sit.
This is what happened the day the doctors told us about Alex’s diagnosis. Since that day, our world has flipped completely upside-down. These hard times challenged us and brought us to our knees in sorrow and in prayer. I can’t tell you how many times I went to the hospital chapel and prayed for God to perform a miracle.
The thing is, God truly does work in mysterious ways. The last two years have been the hardest of my life, but they’ve also made me realize that I’m capable of pretty much anything. Here are some of the life lessons my son has taught me, and I want to share them with you. It’s a good reminder of what’s really important.
Alexander William,
This blog post is for you. May you look back one day and know that you are capable of anything, and everything, and that I believe in you, love you, and will always be your biggest fan.
Mama loves you.
Life Lessons from My Son:
You are stronger than you think.
I’ve mixed medications and injected needles into my stomach. I’ve created 12 eggs at a time. I’ve endured years of waiting, surgeries, pregnancy, childbirth, and a c-section. I remember staring at those florescent lights as they strapped me down to a table, and I was physically shaking in fear before my son was born. I’ve watched him cry in a hospital at 4.5 months old, surrounded by doctors, and not been able to do a damn thing about it. I’ve traveled up and down the coast to find the best doctors and hospitals and researched and asked every.single.question. When I decided I needed to quit my job to stay home with my son more, I was terrified for about two seconds. I realized if I can overcome all of these things, a job change is nothing. I’ve become a little fearless, but it’s brought a renewed energy to my spirit. I feel things more deeply and trust my instincts more now than I ever have before. I find myself giving advice in unique circumstances and being able to help others as a result. I think we’d all be wise to fear and worry a little less, and just go for the thing that scares you the most. It probably scares you because it could be really, really awesome if it works out, right? Imagine that!
It’s important to speak up and ask questions.
I was quieter before. Stubborn, always, but put me in a room with a bunch of people I didn’t know, and I wasn’t the center of attention. After having to call and push a medication through insurance, multiple doctors and pharmacies to ship on time, standing up and saying “enough” after the 5th nurse walks into the room at midnight in the hospital to wake up my child, or pushing back on a doctor’s recommendation for brain surgery because your gut instinct tells you otherwise, you get to the point where you realize your voice does matter and you don’t have to believe the first opinion you hear. As a parent, your decisions matter the most. I once had someone tell me, “Don’t make a decision until you’ve run out of questions. That means that you’ve gotten all of your answers.” That thought has always stuck with me, and it’s been a guiding force during the last few years. Before, I’d have stayed against the back wall and just shaken my head yes. But now, now I stand up and ask “Why? Tell me more.”
Knowledge is power.
Do alllllllll the research. I literally have folders and binders piled high in our office from infertility notes, conferences, books, support groups and online articles I read before we went through IVF. After our son was born, I have even more paperwork on his diagnosis, clinical research studies, online communities, resources, services, therapies and more that will help him achieve his potential. This information has armed me with the right tools for doctors appointments, surgery consults, financial planning, and more. It’s also guided us on decisions for my son and our plans for his future. Don’t ever, ever believe sitting in the dark is better than knowing. It’s not. And when it comes to your child, I can’t imagine ever making a decision without every possible solution uncovered.
Grief is ok. Normal, in fact.
You’ve got to let it out. You have to find a way to open up the bottle of pain, throw away the lid, breathe in all of the rawness and sadness, then find a healthy way to work through the grief. I began writing again and talking to someone who was trained professionally in PTSD and trauma. For you, it could be working out again, or meditating, or throwing your weight around a gym or nailing a punching bag until your hand hurts. The worst thing you can do is push it down and pretend it’s not there, because it is, and it will manifest itself into some toxic thing that you don’t want in your life. For me, it turned to anger. I was mad at everyone and everything for a while. For others, it could even be drugs or alcohol. So please, take the time you need. Work through your grief and tackle it, because you don’t want the alternative seeping into the crevices of your life and ruining your future.
It’s ok to slow down.
We’re all moving so fast these days. Sometimes, I feel mentally exhausted when I see pictures on social media of all we are doing, all the time. Do we ever just sit and process it, and really feel it? Can we put the phone or camera away for a day, and just be? Can we spend the time not on our phones reading an extra book to our child or really engaging with them at the park? I went to an open gym with my child recently and realized I was on the only parent on the floor playing with my kid (and other people’s kids)! Everyone else sat along the perimeter in chairs on their phones, barely watching their kids and definitely not connecting with each other. I know motherhood is exhausting, but I can’t believe we will look back and miss time on our phones when we’re older. We’ll miss the memories we failed to make with our kids because we were too distracted and “busy.”
Love is unconditional.
I didn’t realize what unconditional love truly was before my child. I look back, and my love seemed to always have conditions. The person needed to fill some expectation of what I thought they needed to be to receive my love. If you think about it, we do it all the time. Your friend is too needy. Your boyfriend too unappreciative. Your parent too overprotective. But your child? All of that goes out the window. After he’s in bed, sometimes I just stare at his face and his little fingers and toes (which aren’t so little anymore) and I watch the air go in and out of his lungs and his chest rise and fall. I thank God He allowed my son to survive his stroke and to entrust me with his life. I am so grateful for this little life that fills my world with happiness and laughter every day. A love without conditions. A love that has no boundaries or terms or effort. It just is. What an amazing gift He has given me.
Trust His ways.
These different journeys have led me to a closer relationship with God. I wish I could say I fully know Him and I’m never mad at Him, but that’s not the case. I’m still working through my imperfect self and my imperfect relationship with Him, but I believe He is my Savior and has lifted me up when I needed it most. I have truly felt the Holy Spirit this year, calling me in a specific direction, and I trusted Him and followed his path. This has never happened to me before – risk taking because I believe He is calling me somewhere. I’ve never felt His presence so fully before, and I hope this is only the beginning of my spiritual journey to Him. I don’t believe you need a traumatic event in your life to find God, but if you haven’t, I will say that when life does happen, and something really terrifying happens, it’s better to have God on your side then if you have to walk that path all alone.
Above all, I believe that from sorrow can come happiness, from pain can come beauty, from darkness can come light, and from despair can come hope. Beautiful hope.
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11