There’s this thing that happens when you tell people that
you have a chronically sick kid. They
stop looking at you as the woman in the second hand clothes with unwashed bad hair. Suddenly, you become this angelic martyr worthy of being placed upon a
golden pedestal. People tiptoe around you as though you are somehow fragile as a flower – to be coddled and
Well, it sucks. And
it’s hard to say so, because people only mean the best by it.
You see, it’s easy to feel guilty when we don’t live up to
the impression that the world has of us. Sometimes our “miracle babies” act like little shits – so we yell at
them. Then, not only are we “bad moms”,
but we further are not appreciating this amazing gift for which we’ve struggled
so hard. And the really ironic thing is,
these times so often coincide with the huge medical
Now is one of those times for a friend of mine. Her daughter’s going through another really
rough patch. No, I take that back. Annika isn’t going through another one. The fact is, lately, the crap just doesn’t
seem to end so much as build up. And Moreena’s such a kind, smart, funny, and yes – human- woman who’s given me strength
when I honestly had no reserves left. I
just want to lift her up and give her a huge hug.
Yesterday, she wrote this
post, but closed the comments. Frankly,
I don’t blame her. Sometimes you just need
to get it off your chest without everyone lending their glib reassurances. But, if people could just send a little
strength her way, it’d probably make a difference…of some sort.
So if you pray – pray.
If you just love – love.
Really it does.