I’m afraid to fall apart…I don’t know how else to write it. I haven’t been in the Word, haven’t really prayed, haven’t journaled, haven’t really worshiped since D-Day (Diagnosis Day) over two weeks ago now. I can’t bring myself to do it.
I don’t know what to pray, my thoughts are like a big knotted up ball of yarn that I can’t seem to get straight with God. I believe God can work a miracle, but honestly, I don’t believe that He will. I can pray it…but what is prayer without belief and faith that He will do it? I prayed so much before D-Day, prayer was constantly on my mind and lips. I had hope then. I don’t know what to hope for anymore. The other day I caught myself saying “hopeful thinking” or “hoping for the best,” and then I stopped, because it just doesn’t make much sense to do that when the end result is still saying hello and goodbye to my precious Wiggles possibly in the same breath.
I have found since the beginning of this journey two weeks ago, that it is so much easier for me to focus on how other people are handling the news than it is to focus on myself. I want to help others with it…I guess that’s why my calling in life is to be a therapist. But I also have realized that I want to focus on others because it is down-right scary to focus on myself. I’m afraid of falling apart. These past weeks I know without a doubt that it is the prayers of others and holding on to the promises of God that have been the only thing keeping my head above water. I’m afraid to let God really speak to me, because I’m afraid I will sink and I won’t be able to swim. I’m afraid I will drown is my sorrow and won’t recover. I’m afraid the burden will really be too much for me to bear. I have gotten so many comments about how my faith must be so strong and my trust in God is so admirable…I’m here to tell you that it may appear that way…but that isn’t the whole truth.
Yeah, I have been strong these last couple weeks. I have gone days without crying about it. I have continued to be successful at work. I have had conversations about Wiggles that have not involved tears. I have made some great memories with family. But I honestly feel like it is just a matter of time before God’s going to make me weak…like really weak….like the only thing that will make me strong is ME falling on my face before Him. Others can’t do that for me…others can pray, but they can’t make me strong the way God is going to have too.
And just on a side note…I’m not to the point where I am grateful to be Wiggles’ mom. I saw a post on Facebook this morning about a situation similar to ours and the mom went on and on about how grateful she is be the mother of her child with a fatal diagnosis. I’m not there yet…I don’t know if I will be. Honestly, the times that I forget I’m pregnant are some of the best times still. Like today, at work, talking with teachers and asking for client referrals. I completely forgot about Wiggles….and then I feel like I need to feel guilty about this. UGH!! All these emotions and feelings are too much for this therapist to bear!