Today you woke up low. 87--lower than you have ever been since we've started this process. I noticed your hands shaking a bit while we were getting ready to test and knew. Grandma Ehlert said that isn't low and that it's nothing to worry about. Grandma Hillam said it is indeed low for you. I immediately got you some juice and had you drink some. Then I started figuring your breakfast and made some calls (both Grandmas and Daddy to inform him and double check my numbers). Everyone else assured me you'd be okay, but inside I was stressing out. How am I going to do this day in and day out? What if you were lower? And surely you will be at some point. Can I even leave you to take a shower because what if your levels suddenly drop, you're all alone and I'm unaware? I feel like I need to watch you constantly, always analyzing, guessing where your levels are. I don't want to be like the OCD mom I heard about at the hospital who would test her child 10 times a day. I couldn't do that to you. Like right now, you have been napping for about 2 1/2 hours. Does that mean you are just extra tired or does it mean that you are so low that you won't wake up on your own? It's all these unknowns that has my emotions out-of-whack. I'm a planner. I like to know what to expect. I like to see the end from the beginning. Right now, there is no end in sight, no light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. Living in the abyss of the unknown area is not settling well with me.
Today has been hard. Really hard. Yesterday I felt stronger. Today I broke again. Daddy went back to work, and life was to resume as normal today: dance carpools, birthday parties, lessons, etc. I'm stumbling through this day, holding my head as high as I can, but truth be known, I keep having these little breakdowns. Talking to my mom, or a friend, or the flowers that were delivered from Dad's work today... . all of them push me over my strength level. Tears are too close to the surface for me and every so often I have to duck into the bathroom for a 60-second silent sob, then wipe my tears, blow my nose, recompose and then go out to the kitchen where the rest of the kids are waiting for me to make the next meal. I have to once again hold my head, get my hands into the housework and try to be the normal Mom they all know.
How do I get to normal again? The normal I knew before has died and I need to mourn the loss of it, bury it and move on, right? Learn a new normal. That's the thing. . . this new "normal" isn't settling into our busy lifestyle or my heart very well. Not sure how to remedy that. Grandpa Ehlert says that I need to simplify and prioritize; that the other kids will have to learn that you come first right now. I get that. But, I can't get myself to fully agree with it. Kendra just started on pointe shoes in ballet and loves it, Alli loves dance too and both of them are dancing almost every day, then they have violin, Andrew has karate, soccer and soon piano, and Colby just wants to golf all the time. How is it fair to have them put their hobbies and activities on hold? I want to be able to give all you kids attention and love equally. It is skewed right now because of the needs you have. In fact, I think Colby feels that. Since we've been back, I've noticed him acting out. He'll hit you when I turn my head, or hit/jump on the dog, hit the other siblings for no reason. He's not a hitter! I'm worried about him. I think he needs some good one-on-one time with Daddy or me. See! It's things like this that get me going crazy! I see so many needs of my kids and I'm just one person. I'm spread so thin and I can't seem to figure out how to organize my time so that I can be with each of you kids at least some time during the day. Everyone assures me it will calm down and not be this crazy forever; everyone is convinced that I have the "stuff that it takes" to get through this. So why do I so vehemently disagree with them? Maybe because right now I feel so, so weak.
I guess that's where faith comes in, something I lack. My cousin reminded me today that through the Lord, all things are possible (Jer. 28:11-13). If I trust Him, lean on His arm, He will hold me up and pull me through this fire. But first I have to believe He will. (Prov. 3:5)