I lost it today.

That is the truth. But the more I think and mull it over, the more I know I didn’t lose it today. I simply lost another piece of me. I will never be the same after today. Nothing happened today but more a culmination of everything over the last several months.

It is all happening so fast. Over the past 8 months, my life, just like everyone else’s, has been flipped upside down. I’m so overwhelmed. I am genuinely an introvert in every aspect of the word. I can speak so many words a day before I hit exhaustion. I need time to myself. I draw my strength from the time I spend alone. I have not been alone since March.

I am running on fumes. I had the best respite before Covid. Now, it’s unsafe to let anyone into the house for fear they could expose one of the boys. Not only that, but the care needs of our boys have changed so much in the last year that there are very few, if any, people who could come in and care for them.

I’m grieving. I haven’t had time to do so. I am sad that my son is not walking anymore. It hit me hard today because he didn’t want to go out and play in the snow. It’s just not the same for him anymore. I love that he has his chair, and we are finally getting the house so he can move freely around without hitting anything. I am grateful because he seems happier. But I must admit that every time I look at the dining room table and see the one chair missing, it punches me in the stomach. We should not have removed one to make a space for his chair. He’s 11 years old, he should still be walking.

I’m so damn mad. My son is losing strength. He can’t bend over, he can’t pick anything up off the ground, he can’t go up steps, he gets tired more and more quickly, and I see him losing pieces of who he is, too. Anxiety has wreaked havoc on him for years now. His friends are gone. He is lonely and sad. I am mad that losing his muscles isn’t enough, but God has given him so much more than that to carry. I want to take it all for him. I can help him stop walking, I can be his legs, and I can bring his things, but I can’t take away this hurt he is experiencing. It’s worse than anything I’ve experienced in parenting so far.

Many of these challenging moments over the past few months have been met with no grace from me. I’m so cranky. I’m short. I don’t like me in the midst of all of this. Where are the showers of grace I’ve been praying for?

I feel very isolated and alone. I had a few refuges before, but now, because of the level of safety we need to maintain for our boy’s health, I don’t go anywhere where masks are not worn or social distancing can’t be observed. I also feel so mad at myself because I know I can’t feel that way when our community has given us a new van and showed up at every fundraiser. Our community of friends and family will pay for the ceiling lift we are working on.

My dear husband. He just holds me and says feeling this way is perfectly okay. The constant barrage of things stacking on each other is hitting me in the real feels. It is so true; there is a physical pain in my chest like it’s been beaten.

I spent the day stressed, then grateful, then heartbroken and sad. I cried, dried my eyes, went to appointments, and then I cried and made supper. Now, I’m in my room, letting my husband be a single parent and writing because it is one of the few things that gives me peace. I’m over the people judging me for sharing these vulnerable, messy, hurting parts of me. I’m not perfect; I’m just a mom who’s been given a tough ask, trying to do my best. I am so absolutely human and feel those human failings so intimately today. Today has changed me. I lost a piece of me today.

I will leave you with these quotes. These quotes won’t leave me in the midst of losing my peace today.

“Every time the anxiety builds, God whispers: I have a plan.” -Lauren Fortenberry

I can only hope that the little piece I lost today is his plan. That it is a piece I don’t need anymore, than He will replace it with something better, something more like him.

“Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.” John 15:4

Here I am, hurting and mad, but remaining.