"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Category: living life to the fullest (Page 1 of 2)

Being Visible With An Invisible Illness

This week is National Invisible Awareness Week and I figure it is as good a time as any to get back to writing since apparently, my last post was a month ago. I have no good excuses. Life has been busy, and I have been enjoying living it.

I won’t get into all the details about why I have been busy; some of it has been simply having fun and some of it has been being there for other people or personal obligations. Whatever the reason, the past week or two has been more of a struggle physically than I am comfortable with. That’s the thing about an invisible awareness: I struggle every single day, almost no exceptions. I have done a pretty good job at working those struggles into my life and accepting them, but the problem with that is, I appear completely fine most of the time on the outside. When in actuality, my body is falling apart bit by bit on the inside.

It’s a double-edged sword for most of living with an invisible illness. For example, I do not want to be known as or come across as a “sick person”. I try to take care not to complain too much on social media and I make a very noble effort to not cancel out on plans when I am not feeling well. However the problem with this is that people forget that I do have limitations. Because I am trying so hard to make the life I do have count for something and to not waste too many of my days, I even forget that I have limitations.

As I have written about previously, I went back to work last Spring in an attempt to get back into the nursing profession. I work in a school as a substitute school nurse and had the summer off. Once I am back to work, I absolutely have to back off on all non-work activities and watch my stress in order to avoid a flare-up in my symptoms. My experience with working thus far is that for every day I work, I need at least two days to recover. Between the joint pain, muscle pain, eye issues, fatigue, and brain fog, sometimes one day of work feels like three or four days. And to be honest, it is worth it. I enjoy being back to work that much.

That is a huge reason why I have been so busy lately; because I knew I would likely be getting called soon to go into work and I wanted to do some quality living before that happened. Not that I don’t enjoy myself the rest of the year but like I said, it needs to more limited and thought out.

So this past weekend, I knew I wasn’t doing all that great; the fatigue was overwhelming, to the point where I would cry in the car on the way home. And the fatigue felt much worse than what I’m used to and I knew something wasn’t right. But, I followed through with my commitments, had some fun along the way, and sure enough, all hell broke loose: migraines, sinus pain, ear pain, joint pain, and chills. I forced myself to go to my water aerobics class Monday morning and almost passed out. I started treating myself with decongestants, acupuncture and a neti-pot, with some relief, until my asthma acted up the worst it has in years, on Tuesday night. Two times using my rescue inhaler and I knew I was doctor bound first thing this morning.

What is wrong with me in itself is not a big deal. I have something viral (if I am not better by Friday, I go on antibiotics) that is affecting my sinuses and subsequently, my lungs, which were not moving as much air as they should be. Any type of infection always flares up my autoimmune symptoms, especially the fatigue, and it gets more complicated for me than for many other people. A steroid nasal spray and a steroid inhaler should hopefully fix me up quick. I am really hoping to stay off oral steroids as I just passed the six month mark of being off them and let me tell you, that is a rare occasion indeed. Granted, my life might be easier on them, but since I have already started to develop some minor long-term complications from them, they are a last resort.

To be honest, I wasn’t being as careful as I should have been. Not just because of my schedule, but because this time of year is ragweed season and I have a severe allergy. Despite my symptoms, I was depending on one allergy supplement (which apparently wasn’t managing things) and allergy shots, and hence the sinus/lung issues emerged. But isn’t that almost a good thing in a way? Instead of spending every day thinking, worrying, and dealing with every little physical symptom that crossed my path, me and my invisible illness were taking advantage of opportunities in a very visible world.

There is something very important I have learned from all this. Nope, it’s not about balancing your life with a chronic illness. Believe it or not, I already learned that lesson a while ago, even if I don’t get it right some of the time. I have learned that since I have to live with this illness the rest of my life, and most likely will not see a cure in my lifetime, that I have to make sure to do this one thing:

I have to live my life.
Now.

I have to take advantage of all the days where I can get out of bed more easily. I have to stop worrying about when the next big autoimmune crisis will come. I have to stop worrying about how clean my house is, especially when there is some better way to spend my precious energy. While I cannot ignore my illness, it is important for me to sometimes act “as if”…act as if I am not sick…act as if I can do anything. Because honestly, sometimes I think having this illness is more mental than physical. I see that in myself and I see it with others who battle this illness every day.

So if you are reading this and you do have some type of chronic illness, try to be more visible, Do something, anything. Educate people around you about your illness. Sit in a library and read a book rather than by yourself at home. Talk to people while you are waiting in line at the Social Security office. Take a risk and go away from home overnight without ruminating over all the “what ifs” that can happen.

If you are reading this and you do not have some type of chronic illness or health issue, I will admit, I am a bit jealous. I get especially jealous of people who are healthy physically and mentally and then don’t take advantage of their good fortune. Stop wasting time over the drama around you. Get outside. Volunteer to help those less fortunate.

Live!

Why I Am No Longer Freaking Out Over Our Wedding

Fifty-seven days until I marry the love of my life. No small feat considering over four years ago I said I was never getting married again. Ever. I would consider “living in sin”, having casual sex (sorry, mom), and/or parenting with another human being but I was never getting married again. Period.

I wonder if that is what everyone says when they divorce someone they cannot stand?

Anyways, I have written about the love of my life, aka my fiancé Chuck, in the past but a brief refresher for those of you who missed it:

Girl goes to church every week. Boy returns to church after a few years off. He goes every week. Girl and boy start getting to know each other at church events and become church buddies. After an entire summer of after church service conversations, boy and girl finally get their act together and go out just the two of them. Girl realizes that day that she never wants a life without him and apparently boy does not either. Much to the shock of half of western Massachusetts, girl moves in with boy after dating for only four months. An engagement follows one year later.

And here I am, engagement ring, venue deposits, first pre-marital meeting with the minister and all.

But here is the secret. We struggled with getting to the point of actually having a wedding day. Why? Because I wasn’t sure I wanted a wedding. Don’t get me wrong, I was all for marrying my fiancé. Him and I making a commitment forever? Perfect. Even the possibility of one single day without him in my life was intolerable. However I was very conflicted about a wedding and my idea was to elope, preferably with our minister in tow. He wanted a big wedding. I was all for celebrating our marriage and our love with our family and friends but I had serious concerns. To start with, the actual act of marrying him was something that I did not want marred by the pomp and circumstance of the wedding industry or by all the “stuff” that can come with a wedding. I wanted the focus to be on our vows, the exchanging of our rings, and our love rather than worrying about the flowers matching the groomsman’s tux or the photographer getting the right pictures.

I did not want the stress of planning a wedding. I have done it before and now I have an autoimmune illness that can be seriously exacerbated by stress. The fact that I am a perfectionist at times does not help. I did not want to spend the following year to year and a half planning every detail of a day when I could be enjoying those days doing something else or spending time with him and my other loved ones. I was also afraid that we would plan this whole special day and then my illness would flare up and I would not enjoy the day or maybe not even be there.

But here is the problem with all of my concerns. They were all about me, not him. Not only what I wanted, but what I could handle. I wasn’t considering what he could handle and what we could handle together. But we wanted two very different things, or so I thought. The reality was that what I thought I wanted was motivated by fear, not by my heart and he knows me well enough to know that. Despite my protests, he knew that celebrating with our family and friends and being married in our church, a place so dear to both of us, was more important to me than I was acknowledging. He knows my fears. He knows my heart.

After many conversations, we agreed on a compromise of a ceremony in our church and a casual BBQ wedding reception (also known as the “party”) on a different day. The separate days was Chuck’s idea as he thought it would make it more enjoyable and easier for me because of my health issues. He made me understand that the responsibility of planning this wedding would not be all on me. He wanted to be a part of every step of the process. He said it was something that we could enjoy doing together.

We set two different dates for the ceremony and the reception. A few months later, which was August, one of my worse fears came true. Due to a misunderstanding, there was a huge interpersonal conflict regarding the wedding (not between Chuck and I) and I was ready to call the whole thing off. I didn’t want something that was supposed to be so special causing hard feelings between me, Chuck and any of our friends or family. There was too many sleepless nights because of it. I was starting to feel the stress of planning the wedding and it was still nine months away. I would never make it.

We talked and talked. We even argued a bit which is a rare event. I was letting a conflict with someone else get in the way of our wedding. I was freaking out and worrying about details that were still months away. There was a point that Chuck even asked me if I was sure that I wanted to marry him because of how resistant I was to the actual wedding. I was heartbroken. Of course I wanted to marry him. This was a big turning point for me. I realized that there was no way we were going to make it to May unless I either called off the wedding (not the marriage) or made some serious changes. We made the changes.

The changes included mostly an attitude change on my part. I decided from that point on, that I was not going to let anything distract me from having this celebration that we both deserved. It was important to him and I knew that if I could get out of my own way, I would start looking forward to it as well. We made some simple changes to the day to make the planning easier. I developed the attitude that I didn’t care what happened. That may seem callous to many people but for someone who is a perfectionist like me, taking an “I don’t care attitude” brings me back to a average person’s level of caring. I have the focus that it is the day he will become my husband. Nothing else matters. We decided that our focus was going to be on the ceremony, our love, and the people celebrating with us. We would plan other things that we wanted for the ceremony and the party, but I wouldn’t obsess about the details. I would go with the flow. Something that I have learned from Chuck. Something that eventually may add years to my life.

And I have gone with the flow since then and here we are, fifty-seven days away. I will admit, it has been a bit hectic lately finalizing details and such but I can sit here and honestly say that I am extremely excited about May 18th. We have been through a lot since my meltdown in August. I did get very physically sick and ended up hospitalized and Chuck’s mom passed away, fourteen weeks before our wedding date. For me, both events have made me see the importance of sharing this marriage with those in our life. Life is short and full of bad times. We have to take advantage of celebrating all that is good in this world, especially love.

Really good things have happened in that time too. You learn a lot about person when you are planning a wedding with them. We have mastered the art of compromise. I have learned more about what makes him happy. Most importantly though, I have learned that I can put my faith in him and that he will always come through for me. My biggest fear and concern was how I was going to physically handle the planning but the fact is, I don’t have to handle all the planning. I don’t always need to be in control. We have strengthened our roles as partners. For me, the planning of this wedding has been a labor of love, faith, and trust.

I have also learned things about myself during this process and the experience has done a lot to change some aspects of my personality that could use some work. Such as my perfectionism and my tendency to worry about everything. I have been forced to change some of my ways in order to make room for better things. I know the big day is still fifty-seven days away but I am in a good place. My health cannot afford the luxury of worry or stress. That is not what the day is about and our love deserves better than that.

We had our first pre-marital meeting with our minister last week and while we were talking to him, I glanced over at my soon-to-be husband. I am not exaggerating when I say he was radiating with love. The way he looked at me reminded me of why I am so willing to compromise in the first place. The way he looked at me reminded me that I would go to the ends of the earth for him. And now that compromise is two days that I cannot wait to experience with him. His love for me and my love for him is what our wedding day is about and I cannot wait to share that with those in our lives who are so important to us.

“What Do You Do All Day?”

“Disability is a matter of perception. If you can do just one thing well, you’re needed by someone.”  ~Martina Navratilova

What do you do all day? A question that I have been asked many times by a variety of people. For those of you who don’t know me, the question gets asked because I have not worked at a job for approximately three and a half years now due to a medical disability. I am forty-one years old. I have no children. In a society where most citizens work, stay home and raise children, do both, or are retired, I am an anomaly. And yes, I am very well aware of this fact.

I will be honest here. Up until recently, anytime this question was asked of me, I would get angry and defensive. The question gave me the impression that if I was not working a job outside of the home or raising kids in the home, what else was there to do in life? It made me feel that because I could not do either of these things due to circumstances way beyond my control, I was no longer useful. And that is why I would become defensive. Because for a while after I became disabled, I did feel useless. But that was MY issue, not the other person’s issue. I was in my late thirties when I became disabled and I felt like my life was over.

But my life was far from over. I started over and built a different type of life for myself and made my days productive and fulfilling in ways I never thought possible before I got sick. I don’t know what my future holds medically and maybe the routine of my days will change again someday. Although I am very realistic about the nature of my illness, I also hang on to the hope that maybe there is a chance that as insidiously as my work life was taken away from me, maybe someday it will eventually be returned to me.

Very recently, someone whom I respect and care about very much asked me “what do you do all day?” I had not been asked the question in quite a while and something in me clicked. Because it came from a person who I knew genuinely cared about me, I knew the question was just one of curiosity. It was at this point that I realized that maybe people just did not understand that there can be more to life than going to work every day or raising children. That someone like me can go through their days without being bored. Or even go through their days feeling fulfilled and with purpose. Maybe people just don’t understand how much is involved on a day to day basis in managing a chronic illness.

And because of those thoughts, here we are. Instead of getting defensive when the question was presented to me again, it made me think of how I do spend my time and I would like to share that. Not because I feel like I need to justify how I spend my days or my life but because I hope that this blog entry may help bring awareness and understanding to those people who may be curious what it is like to be in my situation. And trust me, I am not alone in my situation.

First off, none of my days or weeks are typical. Sjogren’s syndrome is a very unpredictable and sometimes progressive autoimmune illness. I can have a week or even a few months without any major issues and then suddenly be unable to function for days, weeks, or months. This is the part that keeps me out of work because you cannot hold down a job when you could be out sick several days a week or even several months at a time; not to mention that you actually have to work several hours at a time, in a row! Even when I am not having a major issue that requires immediate intervention or concern, I have daily issues that need to be dealt with that have become an accepted part of my life. An example of this is the dryness issue. Not necessarily something that would keep me from working a job but it is something that requires regular medical follow up care and daily attention.

OK, so what do I do all day? It greatly varies depending on how I feel. One of the biggest considerations is that I cannot do a full day of activity for several consecutive days due to pain and fatigue so I have to plan accordingly. Due to physical issues and limitations on some days, many activities can take me a lot longer to do, such as housekeeping. Before I got sick, I could have cleaned my current home top to bottom in about three hours, scrubbing floors and all. Now it can take me several days because I have to break the work up into sections. Keeping up the house, shopping, and cooking is my responsibility for the most part. I have made it my responsibility. I have a fiance (Chuck) who works about 55 hours a week and I do not. Although I do have a disability income, I feel that this is my way to contribute more to our household. Now of course this all goes out the window when my symptoms flare up but I do the best I can.

I sit out on an open field on a sunny day and watch my dog run free with elation. I have never had as much appreciation for the good moments in my day as I do now.

When I am physically able to, I get myself involved with worthy causes and other people. I volunteer with my church. I volunteer for whatever comes my way when I am able so that I can make a difference in this world, even if I am not getting paid for it. Sometimes I cannot do something like this for six months at a time and sometimes I can do something helpful several times in one week. I make it a point to never commit to anything on a scheduled ongoing basis because I have done that in the past and it just does not work out due to the unpredictability of my illness. I help out my friends with their children when needed. I also help out friends who are also facing their own health struggles.

Unless something very catastrophic is going on with my body, I try to get to the gym five to six days a week, even if it is just to go and float on a noodle in the pool or swim a few laps. Exercise has been a salvation for me. My hope is that as I take better care of my body, it will become stronger and this will help my illness.

I am constantly doing something to sustain and nurture my personal relationships. Because I have had to slow down, I have the distinct advantage of being able to give my relationships the time and attention that they deserve.

I have been blessed with several passions that I pursue during the week when many other people are at work and they are activities that are especially helpful when I am confined to the house or laid up in bed. Learning to cook and experiment with different recipes has been wonderful; especially since starting a gluten and dairy-free diet seven months ago. And I have also pursued my passion for writing. I truly believe that during the past several years writing has been my other salvation. I can easily spend several hours at a time writing for either my blog, a book I am working on, or for a variety of places that I send submissions to. It is through my writing that I have been able to connect with the world and help people in a way that I can no longer do as a nurse.

I spend time in a library or online learning something new.

Last, but of course not least, I have made a part-time job out of being a patient. This is by far my least favorite thing to do but quite necessary. As I was driving to Hartford last Thursday for an appointment, I did some rough calculations in my head. In the past seven days leading up to the appointment I was driving to, I had spent approximately seventeen hours in the previous week managing my illness. I know there have been weeks where maybe this was a bit less, although not by much and I know there have been weeks where this amount has been MUCH greater. This includes: driving to appointments, hanging out in waiting rooms, the actual appointments, blood work, phone calls to doctors, getting lab results, a support group, picking up prescriptions, calling in refills, calling insurance and disability companies, dealing with social security, taking medication, managing my dry eyes/mouth, saline rinses, setting up/cleaning humidifier, and preparing medications and such for travel.

Seventeen hours.
Like I said, never bored.

I truly hope that this essay has shown that it is possible to have a life outside of a 9-5 job or raising a family. There is more than one way to define yourself as a person. I used to think that if I wasn’t a nurse or if that I wasn’t anyone’s wife or mother, that I could not be of value to this world. Although there are great values to being all of those things, there is also great value in being many other things as well.

A friend.
A mentor.
A daughter.
A dog mommy.
A godmother.
A writer.
A human being.

As people with disabilities, we may not always be able to get out into the world every day to define ourselves. We have physical, mental, and emotional limitations that we need to work around on a daily basis. Most of our days may just be spent trying to meet our physical needs. But I also think that it is important that we allow ourselves, as much as possible, the opportunity to spend some of that time doing something in our day that allows us to define ourselves.

Not just our sick selves.
But as our true authentic selves.

Photo Courtesy of Chuck Myers http://myerscreativephotography.zenfolio.com/

Whale Watching…Life Watching…

“We clear the harbor and the wind catches her sails and my beautiful ship leans over ever so gracefully, and her elegant bow cuts cleanly into the increasing chop of the waves. I take a deep breath and my chest expands and my heart starts thumping so strongly I fear the others might see it beat through the cloth of my jacket. I face the wind and my lips peel back from my teeth in a grin of pure joy.”  ~ L.A. Meyer

I have always loved the ocean, especially the New England coastline. Beaches, lighthouses, sand, boats, and scenic views are just the beginning of my love affair with the ocean. Add to that the sound of waves crashing the rugged shoreline as well as the smell of the salt water penetrating my nostrils and I am in a state of complete contentment. Pure joy even.

Up until last year, I was always more a spectator of the New England coastline and it’s vast Atlantic Ocean rather than a participant. I would walk beaches scouring for shells and tour lighthouses but with the exception of two ferry trips, I was never actually on the ocean. Then last year Chuck and I spent an afternoon on a tugboat as part of the MS Harborfest event benefiting the Multiple Sclerosis Society and I was hooked. I found a new love in Portland, Maine. A love of piers, fishing vessels, lobster traps, and even the somewhat foul smell of a fishing port.

We had been wanting to go on a whale watch together since we started dating almost two years ago. Chuck had been several times before and I had never been. I am not quite sure why. I think part of it was that I always shied away from going on boats due to issues with motion sickness and also just never really having the opportunity to be on a boat. However this year we were finally able to make the time to schedule it and it worked out that I was finally well enough to brave the adventure.

So yesterday we made the trip to Gloucester, Massachusetts, about two hours from our home, to go on a whale watch with a company called 7 Seas Whale Watch. I was beyond excited mostly because it was an experience I had never had before and also because I got to be on the ocean again. Apparently I come from a long line of fisherman on my dad’s side of the family and when I did a genealogy research many years ago, Gloucester was one of the areas that some of my distant relatives had worked and lived in. Maybe it is in the blood!

Nothing though could have prepared me for the experience I had yesterday and how profoundly it affected me.

After taking a good dose of Dramamine for motion sickness, we got on the boat. Everyone else getting on board seemed so intent on getting a seat and staying put. By the time we got on, there were no seats left except inside the cabin and I didn’t see the point of staying in there! My first thought was that it was going to be difficult to stand with my physical issues as the trip was supposed to be almost four hours long. But then I decided it was going to all work out somehow for the best. So instead, we settled ourselves by standing at the bow of the boat, which is the very tip of the front of the boat. The width was enough room for Chuck and I to stand together side by side with nobody in front of us and nobody to the sides of us. There was a double railing so it gave me the ability to switch positions often by leaning and supporting myself on the rail. I figured eventually there would be an open seat somewhere out of the deck.

Absolute best decision.

Why? Because when the boat started moving, we had the best view ever. I knew at that point that there was no way I would be moving from that spot unless I was on the verge of collapse. The boat had such a low profile (meaning close to the water) that it felt like we were right on the water. And with the boat traveling at speeds of up to about 20mph, being at the bow was incredible. Wind rushing through my hair and body and having an unobstructed view of the vast Atlantic Ocean was priceless.

At first, we slowly moved out of Gloucester Harbor which is just a treat in itself. Breathtaking scenery of lighthouses, fishing vessels, old buildings, and even a harbor seal! Then as we moved out of the harbor, the temperature dropped and what was stretched in front of me was the beautiful vastness of the Atlantic Ocean. An occasional fishing or sailboat was all we saw at first and then we saw nothing but blue water as far as the horizon where it met the sky.

And it just got better.

Since we were at the very front of the boat, I spotted the first whale. I could see in front of that horizon water shooting up from the surface. Water from the blowhole of a whale. A creature that I had never seen before in its home. A creature free to roam its land freely, untouched by the modern world that we live in.

As we got closer to the whale watching spot, the boat slowed down and eventually stopped. It is a surreal feeling being in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean at a standstill. No other vessels around (at that point) and people on the boat waiting in silence; waiting to see the great creature we had come to observe.

And then they came, not one but two whales. Two humpback whales diving in and out of the vast ocean working as a pair while they were feeding. Such an incredible sight. Such a natural sight. A sight that left me with tears welling up in my eyes. Why, I am not sure.

From what we were told by the naturalist narrating our tour, the area we were in, Stellwagon Bank, is a large feeding area for the whales, USA Today has listed this area off the coast of Gloucester as one of the world’s top ten whale watching sites.

I can see why.

Apparently we happened to hit an unusual day for our whale watch. There was an abundance of whales to watch and it was amazing how close the captain of our boat could get us to these magnificent creatures. Humpbacks, Finbacks, and Minke whales were on the agenda for yesterday. Sometimes we would see one, sometimes two working in tandem to gather their food to store up for the winter when they would then migrate down to the Caribbean where there is no food available for them. We got to see a calf, which is a baby whale. At one point, we could see several whales with the water shooting out of their blowholes in the distance. There had to be at least four gathered together.

Another treat was that we saw schools of Atlantic White-sided Dolphins, which is an unusual sight in July. Normally they grace the water of the Atlantic in the spring and fall. Sometimes we saw two swimming at a time; sometimes four. Sometimes swimming alone and more incredibly, sometimes flanking the sides of a humpback whale as he/she travelled the waters. At one point, our boat drove along the dolphins as they perfectly synchronized their swimming in pairs alongside our boat.

Nature in perfect harmony.
Life in perfect harmony.

After staying out in the whale’s feeding area for what seemed like an infinite amount of time, our vessel made its way back to Gloucester Harbor. This time I found a seat but still I was at the front of the boat. My senses felt pleasurably assaulted once again. The sound of the ocean water rushing away from the sides of the boat sounded like music. The smell of the salt water still in the air.

Sometimes spiritual experiences come when you least expect them. I have to say, I was due for a spiritual experience; one that made me feel like I was more connected with God and with myself. I am not sure exactly how it happened. Maybe it was because of my spot on the boat, up there in the front. It helped me to feel like Chuck and I were the only ones on that boat. Like we were almost right on the water with those creatures. Maybe because like I mentioned earlier, we were in a place untouched by our modern world with all of it’s distractions. A place of beauty.

One thing I do know for sure: we were in God’s country. For me, a place free of doctors and medical tests. Free of insurance and disability companies. Free of technology. Free of other people’s drama. Free of stress, disappointments, and expectations. A peaceful place.

In other words, a little piece of heaven.
Right here on earth.

Photos Courtesy of Chuck Myers

When Mother’s Day Means Something Different

This is a picture of a flower that was handed to me today in church by one of the children. We celebrated Mother’s Day as well as Children’s Sunday today. Children’s Sunday represents the close of the Sunday school year and it is a celebration and recognition of what the children in our church have accomplished throughout the school year. The handing out of the flowers has been occurring for a few years now. I remember the first year the flowers were presented on Mother’s Day. Before the children came out to present them both that year and this year, my minister prefaced this beautiful gesture by telling the congregation the flowers would be given to those of us in church that “look like a mother.” I remember sitting in the pew that very first year and thinking how difficult it was going to be for me when the children bypassed me and I was left without a flower. Left with an outward sign of who I am not. A mother.

But miracle of all miracles, I received a flower that year and I have received one every Mother’s Day since. All the women in our congregation do; because even if we have never given birth, adopted, or raised a child of our own, we all have in some way mothered a child or another human being. The flower is a symbol for the mother that lies within us.

Mother’s Day has notoriously been a very difficult day for me over the years. Correction: I have made it a difficult day for myself. The reason is simple. I love children, have always wanted some, or at least one, and have never had a child of my own. The reasons are numerous and complicated. I know it is something that I will eventually write many essays about but for today, writing about Mother’s Day is enough.

As the years have gone by, I have struggled with Mother’s Day because I have always focused on what I did not have and that is: a child of my own. One that I can raise, nurture, and love. As the day would approach and come to slap me in the face with my reality, I would dread it. Because I knew that most likely, I would never have the opportunity to be celebrated on that one special day each year. I would never possess that which is known to most of our society as the ultimate bond between two people: the bond between a mother and her child. It can be quite a difficult thing to live with in our culture and society where being a parent is given the utmost priority and acceptance. It can be quite a difficult thing to live with period. Sometimes you feel like you don’t fit with the rest of the world. Sometimes you just feel plain old sad. But those are topics for another day as well.

Luckily though, my thinking about this issue has evolved over the past year or so. And it has not come easily. Changing my thinking about going through Mother’s Day with no children has taken a lot of soul searching and yes, even some acceptance. It is not because I like children any less. But rather because I am more focused on what I do have rather than what I do not have. To start with, I have my own incredible mother. One that has nurtured me and supported me my entire life and whom I would probably be lost in life without. I do not want to waste precious time feeling sorry for myself on Mother’s Day when I could spend that time honoring and thinking about my own mother. And there is my fiance’s mother. How grateful am I for her? The person that brought the love of my life into existence. The man who has completely changed my life.

Most women in my life, whether they are friends or family, are mothers. I have been blessed by the grace of God to know them and to witness the everyday struggles, challenges, joys, and blessings that come with raising a child. To be honest, I do not think that every mother is a great one or even a good one. But in my circle, they are. So on this day, I honor them in my heart. I feel lucky to be a part of their lives.

What I have also come to realize, similar to how my church treats the women in our congregation on Mother’s Day, is that being a mother is not just about having a child of your own. It is about how we, as women, nurture and support the children in our lives whether it is in our own family or in our community. I now can stop and think of the times I have nurtured other people’s children. I have cared for, nurtured, and loved nephews, future adult stepchildren, goddaughters, and children of friends closest to me. I have supported the children in my congregation in their endeavors and activities. I have been a mother to every single pediatric patient I have ever taken care of by holding their hand, disciplining them, and singing to them in the middle of the night when they were scared or in pain.

I have been present.

Is it the same thing as raising a child of your own twenty-four hours a day? No, it is not the same. But I do not think that fact makes it any less important, or any more important for that matter. It just makes it different.

I am not living in denial of the difficulties associated with losing a part of my life’s dream. Now though, I try to not let it define me by who I am as a woman. From this Mother’s Day on, I refuse to let it overshadow what this day is supposed to be about and that is love. So Happy Mother’s Day to all of the women in my life who are mothers. Those who have:

Given birth to a child,
Adopted a child,
Raised a child,
Encouraged a child,
Been a role model for a child,
Helped a child,
Loved a child….
You are all truly my inspiration.
Photo Courtesy of Chuck Myers
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