The pumpkin

The other day I spent half an hour crying in my car.

A well-meaning mom who quite often interacts with me and E  reached out the other day. She pulled me aside to say, “I just wanted to tell you that you’re doing a great job. It’s hard enough even when you don’t have all the medical things to deal with.” I smiled, and in true form attempted to brush it off quickly (compliments make me rather uncomfortable, and I have an inability to accept them–to the point that it makes things pretty awkward. But I digress.)

As soon as I was in my car, alone, the tears just started flowing. Tears turned to sobs, and I didn’t even really know why.

At first I was just letting go. Releasing all of that pent up emotion that I keep inside for the most part. As I am monitoring E’s medical situation, she and I are rarely apart. We even have had to return to co-sleeping to make sure she’s okay at night. So I rarely have time to process my own emotions.  Those emotions can build up.

But then I was angry and defensive. Our life is just our life. It isn’t easier or harder than anyone else’s–just different. I love our life, and it doesn’t take any more our less effort to live it. What is the alternative anyhow? Giving up?

It is part of the reason that even though Halloween was nearly 5 months ago, I still can’t take E’s jack-o-lantern off the fridge.

An outsider might see that jack-o-lantern and think it’s a pretty crummy likeness. When I look at it I see it in the context of where we started, and how far we’ve come. I see the most beautiful pumpkin ever.

Here’s a link to a recent blog that really hit home. Once again Max’s mom made me feel like I wasn’t alone.  Enjoy.

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