State of Being

Things that go bump in the night. Are in my head.

Fitful last night’s sleep. It was a shortened respite to begin with, thanks to plans and events planned and unplanned that went late into the evening. But as my head hit the pillow my mind went into overdrive, as it is wont to do when the world is quiet and dark.

Fears about Will’s future – who will take care of him after I’m gone from this world. I had horrible visions of him as a homeless person. Or crying. Or simply just lonely.

Guilt over his birth – recurring and assuaged somewhat. Buried deep now actually, but still present. My body failed him when I was carrying him. I bear the responsibility of his health issues. Intellectually, I know this is harsh and that Things Just Happen. But try as I might, I cannot completely shake the residue.

I’m still angry with God. Why my child? Why my sweet boy? He doesn’t deserve any of this pain and crazy way to live. I see photos of families enjoying vacations and camp and soccer and softball and so many other standard issue activities. Those sorts of pictures are not part of our photo album nor will they be. And while I don’t begrudge my friends any of the joys of these moments (and I do so enjoy sharing in the experiences of their lives), I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous. There. I said it. The ugly truth. Laden with tears and a bit of envy. I love my son more than you can ever imagine – but oh how I wish our reality was different sometimes.

I am thankful that a resolution to the serious health issues we’ve experienced seems to have been reached. Several rounds of antibiotics and a scheduled surgery for ear tubes look to do the trick. I know that God has provided for and is taking care of Will. But I’m still out of sorts with Him. And this anger is keeping me from worship and church. Don’t feel like we fit in at the moment. Will or me. I hate that. Makes me sad and profoundly lonely, as I love the fellowship I gain from being with the family of believers and the perspective I gain from corporate worship. But right now…

I’m not sharing any of this to garner sympathy or pity or consolation. Not at all. Don’t want it. Mortified to think about it. Nor am I looking for ways to fix this or condemnation or anyone telling me how to feel or that these emotions aren’t valid. I simply needed to get this shit out of my head and put it someplace. My blog, my rules.

Saw the movie Inception recently. Trippy flick. And I have to wonder if my subconscious, inspired by the film, prompted me to regurgitate all of these things in the hopes that someone would steal them from me and dispose of them. Worth a try. Heh.

I’ll be fine. Will is good at the moment – a little whiny, but what bored eight-year-old isn’t. I’m just hurting more than a little. All part of My Version of Motherhood.