BY: Jennifer
Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning and I take a look at the calendar, I often catch myself wondering where the time has gone. I can’t believe how quickly the years fly by. My son, Syrus, is going to be fifteen this month. In just three short weeks. Like, literally, it truly feels like I blinked and now he’s a teenager.
I think about going to the beach, basking in a chaise lounge, taking in the sun, building sandcastles with my kiddo, and taking a cool and refreshing dip in the ocean. I wonder what it would be like to be able to whisk my family away for the weekend, driving to the shore, or hiking in the mountains, and having tons of summer fun.
I think about hosting backyard barbecues and having friends and family over, cooking up delicious summertime foods, indulging in a few cocktails, and having some wonderful laughs.
I’d love to be able to tell my kid to hop in the car and we’d drive to the mall, or grab some ice cream together. But I don’t even drive, because, well, I’m chronically ill.
The reality of it is, I just can’t. I’m one of the millions of people who are living with a chronic illness. I’ve been living with them since I was fourteen years old. More often than not, they make life a rather difficult thing to experience. When I was a teenager, I fell into a deep depression, and I had to pull out of high school and give up my dream of becoming a nutritionist. I was homeschooled because it was physically impossible for me to attend school every day. Pile on top all of my mental illness diagnoses, and it was a recipe for disaster. I take a whole cocktail of pills for breakfast.
Between the Fibromyalgia, Endometriosis, IBS, GERD, Degenerative Disc Disease, Sciatica, OCD, MDD, and a hip injury I just found out about, I’m a walking mess of physical pain and an emotional trainwreck. On the outside, I look just like any other typical 30-something mom. But my body is my enemy, throwing one rip-snorting fit. And that happens every single day.
To be honest, it’s often hard to get out of bed in the morning. I don’t just mean the typical “I don’t want to get up” thing, but a deep physical aching pain, something akin to the flu, that keeps me sequestered indoors most of the time. I’m even going to confess something that I don’t tell many people — I stay in my pajamas for a good part of the week. Before you ask, yes, I wash them often! But regular clothing is just too much for me to handle sometimes. Many fabrics can physically hurt, depending on what they’re made out of. I’ll get dressed to go to my boyfriend’s each week, or to go to a doctor’s appointment, but that’s pretty much it. Even then, it’s not super fancy.
A good explanation about chronic invisible illness and our energy levels is:
The Spoon Theory by Christine Miserandino.
I’ve since received plenty of therapy and probably ingested enough medications that could tranquilize a horse. My medical records are thick, and my doctors have certainly seen more of me than they care to. It’s been a long road, and most of the time, I think that I am in a good place, one where I can at least be happy with my life.
But I find that there are days when I get down on myself, where I wonder what it’s like to be a mom who can take her child out spontaneously. I’ve never been a soccer mom, but I wonder what the future will hold. Will I be able to make it to my child’s sporting/activity events all the time? My son is on a bowling league, and there are days when I can’t even make it to the match inside to watch him.
I fear that my son will come to resent me. I’ll admit it, I am scared of that. Sometimes, I feel as though I am in this constant limbo of making my son happy and compromising my health, or taking care of myself and possibly disappointing my son. That is the last thing that I ever want to do. Like any other parent, I want to make my child happy. But, on the other hand, I know that I can’t live my life in fear of that. All I can do is my best to be present for him in the ways that I can be, the way my body allows me to be, and I know that is truly all I can do.
Deep down, I know that in order to take care of him and to be the best mother that I can be, I have to take care of myself, and I have to put my health first sometimes. Even if that means that I can’t take him to the beach, or go to the mall all of the time. I know he loves me no matter what. He tells me all the time. So I think I must be doing an okay job? 🙃
I know that all I can do is my best and be there for my not-so-little boy as he learns and grows each and every day. There is nothing more valuable than the time spent with him, no matter what we may be doing. It’s about the little and special moments, I know that now. So, Syguy, if you’re reading this, I love you, bud! Thanks for sticking with your old mom!
Jennifer has been a writer for over a decade, writing everything from blog posts to buying guides. She is the author of the 2015 book, “Positivity In Pain: Finding Joy & Happiness Despite Chronic Pain.” She has written primarily for parenting websites like What To Expect and Moms.com and currently writes for PassportHealth.com. She founded Positivity In Pain in 2008 after realizing there was a need for support and help online.