What Doesn't Kill Us Makes Us Stronger

I have been reading through my archives tonight. The last five months have revolved around my medical conditions. I want to get past it and put it to rest. I want to move on. However, I also wanted to know if I could go back now and get a real sense of what it was really like as a whole from just the words I typed. I think it was a very shortened but accurate summary of what has been the most trying time of my life. I wish I had kept a more detailed account of the whole thing. The more I read the better I felt about my current state of being and the more I remember how far I have come.

The events in our lives shape and mold us. They either make us or they break us. I haven't decided yet which way this went. In some ways I feel a lot stronger, but then again in a lot of ways I am much weaker now. I overcame incredible physical odds but in turn became obssessed with the idea that I wasn't going to live through a much less complicated situation.

I am going to get real dark here for a minute but I promise to cut it out. I don't like being all gloomy anymore than you like reading about my gloominess. I think this is worth thinking about though.

If you have children you might want to think about the things you would want them to know if you were suddenly gone. Many parents don't get a chance to say the things they should have. I almost didn't.

My oldest son has overheard, seen and generally sensed a lot of things that went on including my horrible physical trauma, feelings of despair and fear of dying this time in. I didn't really mean for him to. Children shouldn't have to worry about this stuff and especially not when they have already been through something as scary as all of this.

Logan has mentioned several times that he was sad that I am sick. He has also expressed how he felt when the doctors couldn't do anything to fix me in the hospital. He felt they were making me sicker with tubes and medicine. At times I wondered if he was right. Yet he is too young to understand everything that factored into the situation. He mentioned to me today that he has been really scared through this whole thing about me dying. I asked him if he knew while I was in the hospital in late October that I almost died. He said he didn't know right then but he knew after. I knew it was hard for all of them but I imagine he comprehended the severity of it all more than the littler ones. Until today I hadn't really talked to him about it much because I didn't want to make the situation worse by conveying more about my own thoughts and fears to him. He is nine years old. There are some things we need to start talking about. Unfortunately in our situation this is one of them.

I told him that I lived and that I am getting better but that no matter what, if something ever happened to me, I would not want him to worry or be sad. I told him to just know that I have always and will always love him and that I will always be with him even when I am gone, in his heart.

I have always made a point to tell my children exactly how much I love them and how proud I am of them. I have always talked to them about them growing up and how it makes me feel sad and happy all at the same time and we talk about how they feel about their lives and growing up. I just really haven't approached the subject of "What if something happens to mommy?".

I have a hard enough time facing my own mortality. Saying that to him was something I never ever thought I could do without sobbing hysterically and being so completely overwhelmed to the point of not being able to even speak at all. I did it though. I did it very calmly and straight forward. I did it because when I stopped and really thought about what I would want for him in that situation, it would be just that. I know that it would be unrealistic for me to think it wouldn't be devastating to him, but if he could carry those words with him it might make it a tiny fraction easier to cope with. Maybe.

Posted by gwendolyn on March 15, 2003 at 01:34 AM