Life Lessons
13 Jul 2011 Leave a Comment
I learned a very hard life lesson for mommies tonight: children thrive on routine and consistency. Actually, as a mother and a pediatric nurse, I was already well aware of that fact. However, I overestimated the resilience of my child and have been selfishly undermining her ability to see the world as a reliable and consistent place.
My heart aches over our loss. I may smile on the outside, laugh with friends, and blog about random nonsense, but I am shattered on the inside. I am assaulted with constant painful reminders of how drastically our lives have changed and how much I wish I could turn back time and do something, anything, different to prevent this from happening. I live out each day in my own worst nightmare. Trying to wrap my brain around what my oldest is going through drops me to my knees, begging for God’s mercy. The agony is unrelenting, the full extent of my grief silent, as I have to carry on and find strength for my children. Grieving is simply a luxury that I can’t afford right now.
My best coping strategy has been quite selfish. I hate being at our rental apartment because it doesn’t feel like home. If anything, it’s the antithesis of home. It feels empty, completely absent of anything that remotely resembles our life. There is not joy, warmth, nor memories. It’s just a place to hang our clothes, shower, and sleep. Occasionally.
I have become the master of excuses for why it would be easier to stay somewhere, anywhere, else rather than here and most nights we don’t come home. For this reason, my children are suffering. Katelynn hasn’t had a bath since Friday. Hannah needs fresh clothes that fit. Naptime is non-existent, their toys are scattered at houses all over Desoto county, and their bedtime changes every night. There is no set meal times, no snacks in the apartment, and no alone time with mommy. We live out of our car, bouncing from place to place, with no rhyme or reason, just trying to stay busy so I don’t have to hurt.
Hannah finally had the ultimate meltdown tonight, and I won’t rehash it, but it gave me a hard dose of reality. She needs me to get a grip. I’ve got to put my feelings aside and start focusing on what’s good for her. She is desperate for the return of her consistent routine so she feels safe and secure. She needs routine to trust and understand the world. ALL children do. Life for a child cannot be lived from a carseat. It is not one big string of playdates, shopping trips, and sleepovers.
I can’t do this alone. In fact, I may even meet resistance in my determination to do this for her. I have to prepare for the tantrums. We won’t get to spend time with family and friends as much as I would like. Sometimes, we are just going to need to stay at home and have family time. I have a curfew to stick to: 8 o’clock is bedtime. Our house. This is our new normal. This is what she can trust in and rely on. I can only pray for strength and understanding. It’s a hard lesson to learn but it is in the very best interest of my children and I will continue to walk through Hell for them if that is required of me.
