Life On Hold

I feel like my life is on hold. Or “paused” as Eli would say. When we left Boston, we were so excited that they had told us to “live life.” We didn’t know that living life was impossible with cancer constantly looking over your shoulder at everything you do, playing a part in every decision you make, making itself a presence in every single day. It’s hard for our family to move on or look ahead because of the absolute uncertainty. Can you imagine your life with no future plans? Instead of purposefully making goals for our family we wait around for the next big, bad thing to happen or the next round of tests or the next doctor’s visit. Our calendar is empty after December…it’s about as far in advance as we feel like we can plan. Even thinking about Christmas is hard. I usually love all the planning, all the giving, all the family, all of it. It adds a new level of heartache to try to plan a holiday that your children will really remember because you don’t know how many you have. We have been told time and time again to “live for today.” It’s good advice. Really it is. But living only in today is kind of dreary and tiring. I know that each day is a gift and I have been blessed with each and every one that I get to spend with Brad and Eli and Phoebe. I just feel like it puts so much pressure on each day and I don’t have the energy to make every single day meaningful and rich and full for my children.


Maybe I’m just tired. I’m tired physically and emotionally and spiritually. I’m tired of the dishes and the laundry and the picking up. I’m tired of pretending everything is okay. I’m tired of feeling like everyday is wasted. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of wrestling with my faith everyday. I’m tired of seeing myself for who I really am and realizing that I am so far from the heart of God that I don’t know if I can spend eternity in a place where I feel like a stranger. I’m tired of missing my children’s childhood because I am so worn out that all I can do is lie in bed. I’m tired of feeling like my marriage is hollow because we are scared to talk about what might happen. I’m tired of the things that I truly enjoy being a burden because they interfere with what I think I should be doing. I’m tired of people telling me that I’m doing too much. I’m tired of secretly feeling like I am. I’m tired of aching muscles and a quesy stomach and irritated skin and swollen eyelids. I’m tired of feeling like I’m failing my children because Eli doesn’t know his letters and Phoebe never has any tummy time.

Maybe I should just take a cue from Eli and go to bed at 7:30. Gotta love those days when he doesn’t take a nap.