Recovering

     I recently said to Brad, "Leo's hard to be around right now." With a non-mobile kid, it is so easy to hold him and sit in front of the computer watching something. After Leo's surgery, we did that a lot. But as I've been trying to come out of that habit, I've come to this realization. Leo's hard for me to be around right now. And I hate that. 

    Going deeper. Leo has screws in his neck. Leo's vertebrae are, Lord willing, fusing together. Leo has brain damage that makes his body and muscles move in very unnatural ways. I am caring for my child who cannot support his own neck and needs to strengthen his neck muscles while rods and screws hold his vertebrae (and very important ones) in place. As a mother, that just can really mess with your head. 

    I am analyzing every movement. I am imagining the screws inside his neck as he pushes his head with cerebral palsy force off to one side. I am analyzing every muscle and bulge in his neck. I am supporting his neck with my hand so I am feeling all of the movement. I don't know if I'm describing it well, but his fatality is very real to me after all of this. I feel so aware of how much I can't protect him from bad things happening. And yet every part of me grasps for evidence that I can stop something else from happening. 

    To try and boil it down, when I hold him I feel so aware of his neck. In that, I am reminded of how serious the injury was and that we had no clue that it was there. So my response (a bit subconscious) is to overanalyze everything because I so desperately want to make sure that he's ok. And, guess what. I cannot ensure that nothing will happen to him. And my mind can go to questions like, "what other bad thing will happen to Leo? When will we be in the hospital next? Will the next complication be fatal? Will I outlive him? What if something comes out of nowhere and takes him?" And that may sound dramatic, but those fears are there. 

    I feel so aware of his fatality. And I'm tired of running from it. So I'm trying to head right into it. I don't like talking about this much, but I do wonder if I will outlive Leo. I hate that I feel the need to wrestle with that. But the truth is that God knows his days and nothing I don't know now will change that. Tomorrow is just as much guaranteed for me as it is for Leo. And the truth is that in January we found out that Leo's spine was injured. We found out accidentally and if we had not found out the injury would have killed him or, at least, severely impacted his quality of life. That's a hard pill to swallow.

    To be clear, as far as I know, Leo's not on the edge of death. He is recovering so well. He's thriving in school and improving in skills in therapies. He's moving so much and so well. We really are grateful for how he's recovering. Mommy and Daddy are just recovering, too. And it takes time. 

    I'm trying to take time to be quiet put words to how I'm feeling. Journaling and non-stimulating activities are helpful for this. When I put words to how I feel and get it out of my body, there's a freeing feeling. I can also then more clearly speak the truth to myself. For example, Leo's surgery was scary. It makes sense to be anxious as he recovers. The truth is that I don't control whether things are going "well" or "badly" in my life. And God only calls me to today. I can turn my anxious voices into mindful, present, grateful voices, but it takes a lot of practice. I am practicing this a lot right now. And talking to God about all of it. 

    Thanks for reading some of my thoughts.