I had a vision of myself today.
My spirit was laying on the ground with my hands out and my legs spread, my face laying on black pavement. On top of me were all of these specialists that Dylann Blaire has had to see in her short five months of life. And I was laying there, crushed from the weight of her high needs and the guilt of feeling that I am not giving her the care that she needs. And then I feel guilty for being upset that she continues to have issues because “she doesn’t have cancer” or “it could be worse”. Why are mamas their own worst critic? Why can’t I just be sad that she’s going through a lot rather than beating myself up because it could be worse.
I ask God why my daughter has been hospitalized twice, had rsv twice,seen a gastrologist, a cranial specialist, a physical therapist, and a urologist. My heart just hurts. I’m a sad mama but I know that I can be a sad mama and still be a good mama.
In my pity party in the car tonight while waiting for the Christmas parade, God as he always does, reminds me that somehow he’s got all of this under control and he even showed me his promise.