It's true: the baby is nearly five months old, and I can't pull my pants up much past my knees. If it's not yoga or doesn't have an elastic band, it ain't fitting. I'm not sure if I can chalk it up to it to being my third baby or being thirty. No, I haven't tried exercising. Or dieting. I suppose I'm not that interested in
how to lose the weight; however, I
would like to know: At what point do I break down and "upsize" my wardrobe?
Noah was out shooting hoops the other day. He suddenly started
yelling, "I'm frustrated! I'm so frustrated. I'm frustrated... like
Mommy!"
Yikes. Having my two-year-old associate me with frustration sent me through a series of flashbacks.
"Knock it off! I'm so frustrated. Look at the mess you've made!"
"All you guys do is fight! I'm sick of it. It's so frustrating."
"Do you know how much you're frustrating me? Follow the rules!"
I can assure you all of these were relayed in loud volume and a lost temper.
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| Yes, my boys are naked and my daughter is wearing a Cinderella dress. And, yes, that is the silverware compartment from the dishwasher filled with blocks. Not to worry, they're just a group of Care Bears driving a cloud car. |
For the past few months, I have been dealing with very uncomfortable and sometimes painful symptoms. Some of these symptoms include severe light-headedness and numbness of my arms, legs, and face. These months have been filled with doctors appointments, diagnostic tests, and anxiety of the unknown. A spinal tap eventually ruled out multiple sclerosis. An MRI of my brain found lesions (which Nick is hoping is a sign of telepathy), but all the other MRIs found nothing. My most recent neurological study showed a potential dysfunction in my autonomic nervous system. So now we will be exploring that avenue. All other details aside, living with these symptoms and not having a diagnosis has been a real weight on my shoulder. As a result, I'd venture to say I've been a pretty terrible mother.
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| Miriam wearing the Care Bears night gown I wore as a little girl. Also, my childhood pencil collection is sprawled all over the floor. |
When you muster up the courage (or exhaustion) to finally tell God, "I quit! You do it," He does. He even will do it in very tangible ways. I have had many people help me shed my pounds of anxiety. My mom has watched the kids for all of my appointments and was my caretaker and nanny after being debilitated by the spinal tap. My in-laws have flooded me with support, giving me medical guidance and encouragement. Family and friends (and MOPS) alike have come alongside me to uplift me in prayer and visited to entertain the kids. I've even been graced by the input and support of some east coast relatives, with whom I don't get the chance to talk to all that often. Just this week I have been blessed with meals provided by the Holy Angels community. I am so thankful to each person who has helped me and prayed for me and am so grateful to God for His faithfulness.
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| He asks for a Pop Tart every day, for all three meals. In reality, he gets to enjoy one once a week... in his super cape! |
Noah was frustrated because he couldn't make a basket. He remedied the situation by dragging a chair over to the basketball hoop. Usually, though, when my kids are frustrated, they cry.
I am frustrated because I have ten pounds I can't lose, and none of my clothes fit. I'm frustrated because half of my body is numb, and I am carrying kids around all day. I'm frustrated because I'm so light-headed, I can barely think straight sometimes. I'm frustrated that my time and money is being spent on doctors. Slowly, I am learning how to drag little chairs to prop myself up, but I'm also learning how to cry for help. At the end of the day, when the wave of anxiety comes in the darkness, I take comfort in knowing that someone much bigger than me is in control. He always is... and He'll take the weight off my shoulders if I let Him.
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| Gus at about four months |
