I am a fighter. I am relentless. I’m like one of those pop up Bozo punching bags. On the list of attributes I like most in myself, my resilience is number one.
However, there comes a point for me in every struggle when I need to regroup. Sometimes, I get so mired in whatever I’m working through I can’t see clearly. Or I’m so focused on pulling myself back up that I don’t stop to think why or what’s knocking me down to begin with.
It is in this spirit that I have taken the past two weeks off. Not just from blogging, but literally from everything. I was so tired, physically but also emotionally. I had a bunch of vacation days to use or lose by the end of the year, so spent the last 12 days of 2014 holed up in my apartment.
It was exactly what I needed.
Just days before, my family learned that my mother’s heart was failing. It would spontaneously stop… then start up. Logically there would come a point when it wouldn’t do that anymore, and we made a decision to put a DNAR on her heart. It is what she wanted and what we wanted for her. My father, sister, and brother sat by her bed every day. I facetimed with her when she was feeling okay.
Since then, my mother has been fine. I don’t mean to paint this in some miraculous light. Given how compromised she is, there is little likelihood she’ll get home. Her heart is beating now. She is here on this planet now. And every day she is still here feels like a surprise. This is as much as anyone can commit to.
My mom has asked that I focus these weeks on a healthy pregnancy, not on worrying about her. I’ve tried to follow her guidance to the best of my abilities. I spent the end of 2014 napping, reading, and desperately chugging Metamucil (pregnancy constipation is a REAL THING.) I’m slowly allowing myself to believe that this pregnancy is real. There is a tiny thing inside me with a tiny heartbeat. We’re in this together, and I have to take care of the both of us.
These two weeks have been so important to me. Not just to make peace with my mother’s passing (which I feel is sadly a question of when) but also to begin to celebrate a new chapter of my life.
2014 was so incredibly hard for me. It taught me that nothing is all good or all bad. Life refuses to give us such easy answers. At best we achieve balance by finding joy and kindness where we can and honoring every struggle. It isn’t about winning, it is about finding peace.
To 2015, my friends.