I struggle with keeping my emotions in check, while not stuffing them so far that they are a problem. It is a delicate balance. There is a lot to be done, a lot of info to share with medical providers and just hard work to do.....which can’t be done if I am in a pool of tears in grief, over my children’s suffering. I have said before that a lot of what we parents of special needs kids do is jump in to the deep end, holding our noses, getting through the next hard thing.....that’s what it takes to lay your baby down on the surgery table, as strangers get ready to “fix them”.....or seeing your baby in pain in post-op recovery...or explaining to them why they are the ones who need so many surgeries. I realize we get through all of this by the Grace of God....I am keenly aware of His Presence in all of this. I still struggle, though, to balance the emotions with the work....
Here is a little poem I wrote to express how, I find my self in tears over things that seem sort of nothing, and I realize “it” is really my own grief over other seemingly unrelated stuff. But, it is all related in the end. While “getting through” the next thing is not specific to having a medically intense family, it is a skill we develop pretty quickly, but there are those moments when the weight of it all comes crashing down, at unexpected times.....and we have to pause and give those feelings their due.
The Moment
We are forced to stay in the present moment
our attention on our children
whose needs are many
more than average
We become masters at remaining
emotionally detached as we rattle off
fifteen procedures our child
has endured
Aware we have to stay focused on
necessary action
We say to anxiety and sadness
Not now
Go away
the heaviness of emotions
pushed off
retreating
until there is an intermission in the action
our game face off
we are caught holding what looks like
someone else’s
sorrow or grief
at inopportune times
A well written book
an intense movie
a face in the crowd, overcome with some unknown affliction
Taken by surprise at our reaction
of tears
seemingly borrowed for the moment
upon further inspection in the light
of the intermission
we hold not un-popped kernels
drudged from the bottom of the bucket
but
past emotions
pop
out of retreat
ready to be present and dealt their due
We call the tears
our own
embracing what is ours
for a short while
until the next
call to action.
I like your poem, it rings true to me. I don't have to deal with medical fragility in my kids at all but I do understand the uncertainty that a child with special needs can bring. It's a never-ending cycle, isn't it? But you're right, it surely does teach us how to live in the moment, for that's all we're really granted, isn't it?
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