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Thursday, February 7, 2013

Final thoughts



The positive response I am receiving from my late night ramblings is overwhelming. Everything I wrote is true, and I am not apologizing or recanting anything. However, I realize that I left many [important] things unsaid. 

First, and most incredibly, I am the mom I've always dreamed of being. It is truly the most unbelievable feeling in the world. Last night's post had a lot of depressed undertones. Be assured, I am not depressed. I have been depressed before, but I am not now. Despite everything that has transpired, I am the happiest I've ever been; my heart is filled with joy. I know there will be a day when we're discharged. I trust Greg's transplant will be successful, and I know we will be together as a family someday soon. The Bible is right (yet again), Love, never fails. It is the only emotion that has carried me through.

I also failed to mention how empowered I feel because of this experience. I have developed a sense of pride that was previously unknown to me. Before the girls were born, I was miserable. I did everything to keep everyone else happy. But now, I simply do not have the time (or energy) to sit and worry about offending someone else. That's not to say my heart has hardened. Instead, I have found an inner strength; a voice that urges me to stand up for what is right. Much to the chagrin of the neurosurgeon, I insisted Caroline's surgery be moved, from Thursday, to Friday (unless it was a true medical emergency). I was not willing to be apart: with Greg in dialysis and Caroline in surgery. Voicing my opinion was something I would not have done before; I would have quietly accepted that he was going to miss her surgery and then never forgiven myself for not speaking up.  

In my wallowing, I never intend to take away, or lessen, anyone else's suffering. No one's pain is less than mine; it's simply different. Many others feel the same emotions, but in a various other ways. There are countless people, with illnesses, who are seemingly overshadowed and forgotten because they suffer silently, or alone. However, my decision to journal does not make my pain any more "real" than those who do not. 

Lastly, I did not mention how thankful I am for Greg. I will spare the sappy, "I'm so in love with him" nonsense ('cuz we all know it's true)... But, he carries the same burdens with him. I often forget that he goes to work everyday (yuck!). After work, he comes home to an empty house, then drives himself to dialysis where he sits for 4-5 hrs, surrounded by elderly, sick people. It is a joyless place. He does it without complaint and self-pity. He focuses on the future and does not let the present struggles drag him down. His faith is unchanged and unshaken. He is an amazing father and husband. He is my inspiration. 

2 comments:

  1. I know that saying I'm happy for you sounds awful... but for this entire post- the confidence you feel, what you've learned, and how happy you are for all your blessings (despite the challenges)- I am happy. So no sappiness, advice or any things that exhaust you. Just sending pure happiness your way.
    Love, Joc

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  2. Sara - I found your blog through Ain't No Roller Coaster. I hope that you are able to continue blogging and sharing your feelings. My son was in the NICU for 112 days and one of the things that is helping me heal and process all that happened (2.5 years later) is blogging and connecting with other parents in this journey.
    http://jackryansjourney.blogspot.com/

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