Skip to main content

My most valuable lesson

I shared months ago about the lessons that I’ve learned over the course of our struggles. If you missed that, you can read here. But over the last week I had a very harsh reminder of the most valuable lesson I’ve learned – I can’t do this alone.

If you’ve been following along, you know that we learned just after Christmas that our 2nd round of IVF failed. Around that time, I also learned of a couple of people with PSC, the liver disease that Reid has, being diagnosed with terminal cancer. I was so ridden with anxiety and sadness. But I pretended to be okay. I didn’t talk much about any of it, but when others asked how I was doing I would just say “I’m okay, I mean what other choice do I have?” But that’s the thing, we do have another choice. Sometimes you have to let yourself breakdown and feel those feelings. But I didn’t… I just silently sat with a pit in my stomach for days, and didn’t talk about it. Maybe I thought it would go away? I honestly don’t think I was even doing it consciously. I just didn’t want to deal with it. I sat on the couch and watched TV, and had no desire to do much else.

And then one morning, about a week after we learned about our abnormal embryos, I couldn’t get out of bed. And I couldn’t stop crying. It was bad, y’all. We’ve been through a lot over the last 3 1/2 years, and I think this was one of the lowest days I’ve had. I seriously didn’t think I could pull myself out of it. Honestly, I couldn’t. Not alone. I couldn’t even bring myself to get up and feed the dog. Or brush my teeth. I had no desire to do ANYTHING. And I just kept sobbing.

I knew I needed help. Fortunately for us, I know we have plenty of it around. And so I asked. See, here’s the thing – not a single person knew what was going through my brain that day. My husband didn’t even know how low I was. I mean, he leaves for work while I’m still asleep, so there’s no way he could have known by my daily “I love you, have a good day” that I was not okay. And I had done an amazing job at pretending… he seriously had no idea. But I woke up that morning, and it all caught up to me. So I had to ask. I had to tell people what I was feeling and how low I was. And I had to LET them help me.

When I started this journey, I was a different person. I was used to helping other people (although I will admit I was much better at that when I was single and wasn’t wrapped up in my own shit). I didn’t ask for help. At least not often. And now I ask for it – all the time (at least that’s the way it feels). But you know what? I’m okay with that. Because it’s perfectly okay to not be okay. It’s perfectly fine to need help. It’s perfectly fine to let people help you. If you don’t have friends that will skip a shower and run over to your house with a Frappuccino (or whatever your poison is) to pull you out of bed – then I pray that you will find at least one friend that will do that. I’m super fortunate to have those people. And they WANT to help me.


So my words of wisdom for you are this (and they’re not rocket science)… let people help you. And tell them when you need help. You don’t have to have it together all the time. I think the strongest people are those that can admit they don’t have it all together. Everyone has their own worries, their own to-do lists, and their own lives. You can’t expect others, even your spouse with whom you share a bed, to know what’s going on in your life and how you’re feeling from day to day. But they want to be there. Let them. And don’t forget the kindness they show to you. Be a good friend in return. Because that’s what matters most in life – those people that are by your side and ready to pick you up when you just can’t seem to get out of bed. Oh, and I also recommend a good therapist. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Our Tiny Miracle - Kaylee June

Let me tell you about a little girl who has stolen our hearts, but almost never came to be. After three natural pregnancy losses and two rounds of IVF (in-vitro fertilization), we started our third round of IVF in the summer of 2018. Two of our pregnancy losses were due to chromosome issues so we did PGS (Pre-implantation Genetic Screening – checking the chromosomes of embryos for abnormalities) testing for our first two rounds of IVF. All (4) of those embryos were deemed “abnormal”… they either had an extra chromosome or they were missing one. And they were all issues that were not compatible with life. So going into round 3 we were looking for a “fresh start”. To our surprise, our doctor (who is amazing at thinking “outside of the box”) suggested we forgo the PGS testing for our 3 rd round. Each of our chromosome abnormalities, including two of the pregnancy losses, were all different abnormalities (it was a different chromosome missing or extra each time). So he thought it wa

After the Storm

I’ve stared at a blank page on my screen several times over the last few weeks, trying to find the words. Today I’m committed to sharing, no matter how those words come out. So please bear with me. Over the last few months, I’ve dealt with some serious anxiety. And I’ve avoided sharing. Because I had babies recently. And often the response is, “You’re a new mom, it’s normal to have anxiety.” And that’s true. It is normal to have “new mom” anxiety, and to have a new level of stress that comes with raising tiny humans. However, what I’ve been dealing with is so much more. I wake up in the middle of the night with a pit in my stomach and have to catch my breath. I often think about losing my husband or one of our babies, and I spiral into a pit of anxiety. Every time I walk up and down the stairs with a baby in my arms, I am anxious that they are suddenly going to throw themselves out of my arms and go over the railing. If Reid doesn’t do something for the babies the exact way I wou

Stop with the judging

 For the love of God, can we please quit pointing our damn fingers?! Guess who you have control over? YOURSELF. That’s it. Literally. I don’t even have “control” over my 19 month old twins – because they are human beings with their own thoughts and emotions. I can steer them as best I can to be good people. I can raise them to be kind and loving and to do their best. But I cannot control them. I cannot change their actions. I cannot make every decision for them – even as 19 month olds (have you tried to dress a toddler who doesn’t want to be dressed in that moment???) What I can do is set the best example possible. I can work on myself. I can show them how to care for others. I can use kind words when talking to and about people. We are all individual people. We are all entitled to our own opinions. And those opinions are going to differ from time to time. And that’s okay. Stop blaming others for issues in the world. I’m so damn tired of seeing people make broad statements about en