A Slew of Therapists

I have a team of therapists working on me (daily). They listen to me every single day. They offer words of comfort, love, and sometimes "tough love." They always answer when I call or if they don't immediately answer, they call me right back when they can. They have helped this insane lady like no other. See, as I've started to discover my inner self, I've stumbled on many things that I displaced days, weeks, months, and even years ago. I'm terrible at communication and at holding all of my emotions in my heart until I feel like I might explode.

I also have a special boy, a very special little man that has to go through so much pain that it breaks my heart. I am his mother. I should not have to watch my child suffer; I should be experiencing all that pain for him. It drives me crazy to think that I cannot help him. That I, his personal assistant, number one cheerleader, supermom cannot take away his physical pain.

When Max was born, he suffered severe seizures every single day. There were days when all I could do was sit in a chair, all day long, and hold him as he seized. Tears would stream down my face and I would cry out to my God to give me strength and to help me have faith. I couldn't see beyond that pain. All I knew was that my child should not have to go through this. What did I do wrong?? Maybe I did eat too much pizza and spaghetti while I was pregnant. I didn't exercise enough... The list is endless, really. Max was such an easy baby when he wasn't having seizures. He would just sit around, stare at his hands or other objects, and googoo gaga talk. Regardless of what doctors told us, I knew he would be ok. Whether that meant he would be special needs or regular, he was my baby boy and I would love him. In fact, I love him so much more because of what I have watched him experience. He is a trooper, a CHAMPION. He is the strongest little boy I know (even when he drives me crazy!).

"I can't believe I've been home for almost two years," I said to my sister the other day. "How is it that I am functioning while I know my heart is no longer whole? How have I survived?? How can I keep going?"

"Forget all that stuff, you're the strongest woman I know," she simply answered. Me? The strongest woman she knows?? Clearly she must be mistaken. I don't feel strong. In fact, I'm just an average person doing what I have to do to give my son a better life. I still get upset: at myself, at the world, at the perfect picture everyone painted... Of the life I was promised to have if I kept myself faithful on the straight and narrow. I feel BITTER. ANGRY. BETRAYED. It's selfish for me to think that no one understands my pain, except for people who have gone through what I have experienced. That's why my therapists are so amazing. They have taught me to look within myself, to find myself, and to renew a faith I almost lost. I imagine I might never have that life free of hurt and anguish or frustration.

Then it happens. I'll be in the car, singing or carrying a conversation with my adorable 2 year old and I'll feel happy. Whole. Good about myself. Thankful that I'm surviving my heart break. "I'm happy!" So naturally, when the tears come, I wonder why? Why are there tears to be shed when I am happy? Why can't I just experience this good feeling? ... Then I realize they're tears of joy. I'm crying because I have been given a small tender miracle in my life. I honestly never thought I'd be able to go anywhere, smile, and have a perfectly perfect day with my toddler kid on my hip.

Of course, then the bad days come. The therapists get called. They circle around me and cheer me through the cloudy days. I am a single mom juggling jobs, a child, church callings, and all things in between. It's during these times that I find I have a slew of therapists (thanks to my girlfriends, my parents, my darling sister, my incredible man boys, Jim) who encourage me through the dark moments and remind me of the beauty I am surrounded with. They remind me a heart will heal. There really is hope and beauty in the Earth. I am not broken (maybe a little). I can and will find that joy we were sent to Earth to experience. And the love part? I don't have to worry about that. He's out there... Figuring himself out and honoring his priesthood. Above all, he's coming to find me.

With God by my side, all things are possible.