Words of Wisdom

To say that the past week has been incredibly stressful and tiring would be a massive understatement.

Yeah, I know that I’m not the one confined to a bed with an ever-growing fetus in my (nonexistent) uterus. I know that I’m not the one who has been suffering regular contractions for two weeks despite four trips to the hospital by doctor’s order. I know that I’m not the one being poked and prodded and I’m not the one who is unable to do even the simplest of tasks for an extended period of time due to pain and fatigue. And it is for those reasons that I hesitate to write anything about my struggles or perceptions of our current state, for I do not want to sound as though I am being whiny or petty. But, then again, this is my blog, so if you think I’m being a crybaby, well….get over it.

The days of this so-called Thanksgiving “break” have been anything but restful. I love my girls, but after five days away from their normally structured environment with little to do in their eyes but pick at each other and then wail with uncontrolled, rolling sobs, I’m ready to move them to Nebraska. Prior to the break last week, I was having some trouble keeping up with the household tasks while keeping dinner on the table, kids from killing each other, and working in my relatively stressful 45-50 hour a week job, but, unbeknownst to me, that would seem rather pleasant when compared to the past few days which have had a distinct resemblance to Dante’s Ninth Circle.

As a somewhat normal masculine figure, I tend to be hardheaded about asking for help from others, partly stemming from the idea that I do not want to bother them and partly because of this indwelling individual fantasy, most likely stemming from our distinctive American myths, in which I, as an individual, can solve all of my own problems. So, with that in mind, I put myself to this near-impossibly large job alone.

And today it all came crashing down.

This morning after church I was talking with one of our best friends, Beth, about how we were doing and whether or not we needed anything. I began to answer with the same, rote statement that I give everyone, “Fine,…blah, blah, blah,” when a sudden realization blasted into my consciousness with a force like a bomb. It was then that I realized I was lying to her, to everyone, to myself. I can’t do it alone and it took a near-emotional meltdown for me to come to grips with it.

By later that afternoon, someone had set up meals for the week, people had volunteered to keep the girls for us and/or to help set up Jackson’s room – a task that we had yet to be done due to the fact that we thought there would be more time – and my mom is coming to stay with us for a few days to help right the ship.

To her credit, Diana (who is much smarter than me about these types of things) was well ahead of me and had already had people come to help with the housecleaning and do the long-neglected yardwork.

So, for this Thanksgiving weekend, I am most thankful of all to our friends and family for rallying around us, and helping to shoulder that stressful burden in our time of need. I’m thankful for Leanna for cleaning places in our home that had not been touched in an embarrassingly long time. I’m thankful to Carl for spending an entire day meticulously straightening up our yard and then refusing payment. I’m thankful for Ryan & Beth for taking our kids this afternoon and allowing me to work in peace and even rest a bit. I’m thankful for Chance & Teneshia for having us into their home to eat a wonderful Thanksgiving meal with their family and also for their willingness to take the girls at a moment’s notice for an undetermined time when we race to the hospital. And we are thankful for all of those who have shown us their support and love over the past week.

We are blessed to have you all and we love you very much.