What do You do When You Find Your Child Has Eloped

You implement all the proper talks and teachings, the dangers that come with impulsive behavior.  You think that it won’t be your child.  You think that they will always come to you, trust you, and remain within the boundaries that have been set for them by you as their parents, guardians.  So, what happens when even after all of that you find them in the middle of the night doing everything within their power to elope? Worse yet, what happens if you find out they have been successful? You are crushed right? What if it wasn’t your teenager we were talking about? What if it wasn’t a boy they were running off to see? What if marriage had nothing to do with it?

If you are like me perhaps the only usage of the word “elope” you knew of involved young adults and teens running off to get married without their parent’s knowledge.  It was an act that was hurtful, disrespectful, and sometimes depending on the situation even dangerous.  Even if you were to “google” the word elope you would come up with hits such as “elopement packages,” “5 elopement packages for low key couples,” “elopement (marriage),” but other than young adults/teens looking to get married in a hurry or couples looking to get married privately there is another much more dangerous version of elopement many have heard about, but very rarely would associate with the term.

So What is Eloping?

Even if you were to look the term up in a dictionary, it has it listed in several different ways, but all of the definitions I have incurred add up to one thing “a secret departure, with no known whereabouts, especially to become secretly married or cohabit with a loved one.”  These definitions only carry a half truth, and this is something that needs to change, especially to those of us in the special needs community who have loved ones who engage in eloping, no pun intended.

Eloping is very common in children with Autism Spectrum Disorder, and it has nothing to do with marriage.  According to Abby Twyman “Elopement is when a person leaves an area without permission or notification which usually leads to placing that individual in a potentially dangerous situation,” (Twyman, Abby M. ED, 2012).  Elopement happens very frequently within the Autism community almost as often as seen in the Alzheimer’s community.   Usually the likelihood of elopement (wandering, fleeing) increases with the severity of Autism, but can also be seen in children with high functioning autism, especially if they struggle with impulse control.  Recent surveys conducted have shown that half of all children on the spectrum have struggled with some type of eloping behavior.

Eloping is Not Just a Problem for the Nonverbal

One of the most common misconceptions, even amongst the special needs and medical community, with a child on the spectrum who wanders, is that they will only engage in such activities if they are low functioning or non verbal.  This is a frustrating and dangerous misconception.  I can tell you this from experience.  Our daughter is seven years old, and very verbal, more verbal at times than her siblings who are not on the spectrum and yet there is a difference between speaking and appropriately communicating.  There is also a difference between appropriately communicating and being able to control your impulses, have safety awareness, social awareness, and be able to link cause with effect appropriately.  We even thought ourselves the older our daughter got the less likely she would be to elope, but that has sadly not been the case.  It is a dangerous and frightening set of events in our life that unfold daily.  Trying to get her to fully register how dangerous her behavior is, is quite like trying to catch water in a butterfly net.  It just keeps slipping right on through.

I heard a statistic a few weeks ago that nearly 90% of all deaths that resulted from elopement were drowning accidents.  That same week we found our autistic daughter happily swimming in the kiddie pool out back while we were all soundly sleeping in our beds.  That was our breaking point.  The sheer terror of knowing all the possibilities was more than a wakeup call it was pure torture.  I emotionally broke down.

Please know if you are reading this and are feeling ashamed not knowing what to do about your own child’s eloping behaviors that you are not alone, and you are not an irresponsible parent.  My husband and I are well equipped with training and degrees that should make us more than qualified to be able to manage the difficulties that come with raising a child on the spectrum, but despite its ups, there are so many downs.  It is not by any means an easy sailing sea.

Our daughter has put more than grey hair on my head these past few months; escaping, making her way into neighbors’ homes, walking out the front door, making her way out or over a 6 foot privacy fence, and even  finding a way to pry open her second floor window.  We are constantly having to find solutions for all of these matters, and sometimes I do cry myself to sleep wondering if we'll ever be one step ahead of her.  At the pint size of only fourty-four inches and pounds I often wonder how she is even able to manage the physicality of some of these things, but she is, so we have to be prepared, literally at all times.

What Can be Done About Eloping

We have had to take several measures here over the past several months to keep our daughter safe.  The first step for us personally, and everyone is going to have different causes and escape routes for their child, was to remove any large furniture from her room that she could climb.  This would keep her safe from trying to open and get out her window.  Thankfully her windows are well above her head, and unless she builds a staircase of books, which she may one day decide to do, she should be safe for now.

The second thing, because she is verbal and able to tell us at least some of her needs, was to figure out what would help her sleep better at night, when she was usually trying to elope.  For her it was to not sleep in a bed and sleep in a smaller space.  So, we turned her closet, open door with a mattress, into a small sleeping cove, and she has been much happier sleeping there.  She had already blown through nearly every sleep medication out there and despite that was still having night time safety issues, so at that point we were truly willing to try anything as long as she was happy, safe, and sleeping.

The third thing was to install door alarms on her bedroom door and all of our outside doors.  We placed them high up where she cannot reach them, since they do have on off switches.  They have so far been a deterrent, and when they haven't been, we have quickly been able to catch her walking out the door.  The good news is that they are relatively cheap.  The only bad news is if your child is extremely sensory defensive you may have trouble getting them to walk out the door when you want them to.

The fourth thing we did was buy a Road ID bracelet.  This was an easy way for us to put her information down on a bracelet that was comfortable enough for her to wear, but not easy for her to take off.  That way, if she did wander and someone found her they could call us as well as be aware of the fact that she has not only autism, but some medical problems that may need to be addressed if she has been gone for any length of time.

The fifth thing we did was sign her up for a service called Project Life Saver.  I know not every area in the country has one yet, but if your area does or a similar service I would highly suggest it, even if your child has not eloped more than once.  If they have even begun toying with the idea of wandering it is time.  Project Life Saver is a bracelet with a GPS tracker in it that is run by your local police precinct.  That way when you call 911, in the case that you have to, you tell them your child is missing and is a Project Life Saver member.  They immediately can start tracking them.  It cuts their search time down to three hours down from 36 hours.  The difference between three hours and thirty-six hours is the difference between life and death for a child.

Eloping is Something We all Need to be Aware Of

Whether you are a special needs parent or not, eloping is something we all need to be aware of.  It could literally mean the difference of a child being returned home to their parents or not.  There is no type of parent who has an autistic child who wanders.  Autism and other types of special needs come with all types of struggles and eloping is just one of them.  It is very hurtful to see comments on news media posts when a special needs child wanders, from community members like; “where were the parents,” “those parents should be in jail.” “I bet the parents are scum,” “that child should be removed from the parents when he/she is found,” etc, every single time a child with autism or special needs elopes and it gets broadcast.  I will say it again, there is NO type of parent whose autistic child wanders.  It can happen to anyone and it literally only takes a second.  Even with all of our safety guards in place the scary and sad truth is our daughter could get out tomorrow while one of us is in the bathroom, because she saw a butterfly out the window she wanted to follow, or thought she heard the Ice Cream truck.

The quicker we see eloping as something we all need to help each other with, the quicker all of our children will be safer.  Let’s stand together, hold hands, form a line, and help each other out.  We can’t point fingers if we are grasping each other’s hands.

Bessy and Harry

I'd like you to meet Bessy, She is white with some gold stripes and she is pretty huge. Bessy is our 1999 Chevy Hi top accessible van with a wheelchair lift. We purchased Bessy about 10 months ago, she was dirty, needed tires and other mechanical gizmos and gadgets, but we did not have much money so we decided to "take a Chance" so we "adopted her" and brought her home. Our search had effectively covered 3 counties, many cities and leads that just did not pan out. We finally found her, the big white hi top van with the braun lift. It needed new tires, the brakes were bad, the a/c needed to be completely overhauled. We did not realize then that we had purchased THE ORIGINAL MONEY PIT of vehicles. We woke up each morning saying a little prayer that our Big Bessy would start and carry us through the needs of the day. We did not quibble about the amount of gas she drank or the need for a emergency fund that we put aside for the moment when Bessy emergencies frowned on us.

Two days ago, Bessy decided that she needed a rest, one of many since we adopted her. Once again she decided to turn herself off and not move, worst thing was she stopped in the middle of the street and there was no way we could move her over to the side. After a few minutes of our bewilderment, the sweetest burly gentleman approached us and asked if we needed help, at least getting our lady to the side of the road. We thought he was going to bring up his truck and push but, oh how wrong we were! He went to the back of the van and without another word, pushed Bessy as my husband steered her to the side of the road!

With Bessy now safely out of the way of traffic for both her own and traffic's sake, the next "UH OH" moment occurred when we realized that the reason for the "Bessy run" was our daughter Laura's need to get to her college Spanish class to take her final. How were we going to get Laura and her power chair picked up from campus and get her back home? I spent one frantic moment in a dazed and confused state, then sprung into action, knowing her class was going to end shortly, I began calling some local cab companies in hopes that they would have a vehicle to get her home. A anxious search lead me no where. Finally I called our county transportation office hoping they might have a list of companies that had a vehicle that could get Laura home. I got the answer I needed! A cab company had just obtained 3 accessible vans but they usually booked them days in advance. That feeling of relief suddenly became even more filled with angst then originally. I explained to the dispatcher, Sheeana, that there was no other way to get my daughter home. Low and behold Sheeana showed her compassion for others. She asked for my cell number and told me that she was going to try something. What she tried was Miss Keisha, an amazing woman who felt compelled to help. She was off duty and had taken home the company van. Sheeana, thinking quickly, remembered Keisha so she made a call and within 20 minutes this caring incredible woman arrived. She first picked me up so I could help locate Laura who was waiting for us at school. Miss Keisha was an expert; she pulled out the tie downs and seat belts necessary for Laura's safety and in a quick 2 minutes had the company's van ready for Laura's ride home. She was not on duty, you could tell by her attire, pretty dress and very high heels, but that did not stop her from helping when she got the call.

On the trip home we found out that the company was instituting a special program for riders needing to feel independent enough to go to recreational places on their own. We filled out an application for Laura, which is now in process and took information to spread through the disability community here. What was a horrible moment had suddenly become one of excitement to share new support for the people in out community, as well as giving Laura the opportunity to have a new freedom for getting around!

Meanwhile, I left my husband with the van and not much else. No cell phone and a mechanic on the way that we did not even know! No joke...6 hours and $300.00 later, he drove the van home, the problem had been a small computer that does something or other to keep the van running!

We decided that we needed to step up our search for a second vehicle to "back up" Bessy. So today, after another search or 10 on Craig's list, we brought home Harry. Harry became a part of our life due to the tax return funds we were saving for just this thing! Harry is a 2002 Buick Rendezvous. He runs well, at least it seems that way! The chances of both of Bessy and Harry going down at the same time is hopefully not very good. Harry has a hitch and a wheelchair lift that goes in the back of the car so we have the ability, with a bit more difficulty, to be able to transport Laura's chair along with Laura.

I am telling this story because it is a fact of life, the needs that we face as caregivers and people with disabilities is different and more challenging and often frustrating. Although when a Miss Keisha or Miss Sheeana or the owner of the small bookstore who saw us struggling with Bessy in the heat (we live in Florida) and came out with cold water and the invitation to use his store's bathroom and a/c or the bear of a man who pushed the van out of the street...when people like these walk into your life, the moment and the struggle becomes just a little bit less frustrating and upsetting, it shows that Life has it's amazingly good moments...

How Much can We Take?

I laid in bed wondering last night, how much one person, one human being can honestly take.  It was not supposed to be a pity party, it did not even start as a self-directed thought really, just one passing thought amongst many others I got stuck on for too long.  My mind quickly became a swirling wind that took me many places within an immeasurable amount of time.

I thought about my daughter and how many hospitalizations she has had since she was two.  I thought about the abilities she has lost, and gained, only to lose again.  I thought about the countless interventions she goes through and how at the ripe age of eight she already knows how to take care of; central lines, urinary catheters, feeding tubes, oxygen, vital sign monitors, medical syringes, and prepare blood vials for lab draws, but she shouldn’t have to.  I thought about her pain, both physical and emotional as she has experienced true “10’s” on the pain scale as well as pain that cannot be measured as her friend’s left her behind in this world after years of suffering from the same disease that she has.  How much can she possibly take?

I thought about my son who shares her genes as well, the ones that most likely caused their mitochondrial disease.  I thought about the fact that he was born having to know how to fight.  I thought about the fact that he never truly knew a moment’s peace as he experienced tachycardia even in the womb.  I thought about how being uncomfortable is the only thing he has ever known.  I thought about his first weeks and days being poked and prodded by doctors who needed to figure out why he was spitting up blood and breathing like a premature baby even though he was born on time.  I thought about the oxygen tubes and wires that he had to learn to navigate as he tried to master all of his milestones and the fact that even though he had to work extra hard to meet them, one bad illness swept them away again.  I thought about the burning fury my heart felt for my little boy then.  I thought about the fact that without a single medication our son cannot regulate his own body temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, breathing rate, or sweat response correctly, and that one pharmaceutical error could land him in the hospital.   I thought about his little lungs that never really did develop correctly and how they can cause him physical pain when he breathes from time to time.  I thought about the fact that just last week he told me his legs are always tired and have “boo boo’s,” he is only four, there is nothing right about that.  How much can he possibly take?

I thought about their siblings and what they have been through, the ups and downs of having a brother and sister who have been sick as long as they can remember.   I thought about the years in which they were constantly being handed from one friend or family member to another so that we could be in the hospital.  I thought about the events we missed.  I thought about the birthdays I had to leave in a hurry as one of their siblings crashed, or the hospital finally found a bed for them when they were ill.  I thought of the vacations that we promised the kids that ended in travesty as their siblings needed to be admitted, as it turns out you cannot take a vacation from chronic disease.  I thought about their faces as I have had to continuously tell them “one more minute I promise,” as I am securing their sister’s G-tube, drawing up meds, or repositioning their brother’s pulse oximetry probe.  I thought about the train of strangers that have been introduced to their lives as; nurse after nurse, social worker, palliative team, medical suppliers, Church members, babysitters, etc have come into our home because of their sibling’s needs.  I have thought about the sheer terror they have had as the ambulance has come for one of their siblings as they have cried “please don’t let them die,” having seen their siblings; seize, turn blue, scream out in pain, be unresponsive, and other things no child should ever have to see.  I have thought about how mature they have been and how they, like us, have held their heads high and continued to put one foot forward, but how much can they possibly take?

I thought about my husband.  I thought about the hours he puts in at work, working for both himself and the hours I can’t contribute needing to man the homefront 24/7 .  I thought about the fact that none of this was within the plans we made and yet here it is.  I thought about the fact that this is probably so much more than he bargained for; two children with a progressive disease, a wife with her own chronic illness, living nowhere near extended family so we could make a living, having the weight of the world on his shoulders.  I thought about the vows we made and how after almost 10 years he still is in it, for better or worse, richer or poor, sickness and in health.  Boy, did we nail all of those.  I thought about how proud I am of the man he is and the love he has provided for us, but I fear some days how much he can possibly take.

I thought about my village.  I thought about the many times I have had to rely on them and the many times they have been there.  I thought about the many times we have had to ask for help, and the many times we have received help without asking.  I thought about; the meals, the donations, the time spent from others, the prayers, the listening ears, and the rallying of the forces.  I thought about how when a trauma is short lived many people can rally in and rally strong, but defenses usually fall quickly only being able to take so much, it is only human nature.  I thought about the fact that our trauma is never going to go away, so how much can they possibly take?

My racing thoughts eventually ended in slumber, although I will admit, it was not exactly a restful night sleep.  I woke this morning to begin my usual routine, step by step, just as the day before.  Unusually I had a little time before my alarm so I reached for the prayer book my father had brought me that belonged to his parents long ago.  I thumbed through it’s pages searching for nothing more than just the pleasure and comfort of knowing I was touching something that they once held.

The ribbon page marker was separating pages fifty and fifty-one, the titles reading Don’t Worry and One Little Secret of a Happy Life.  “Sure,” I thought, “If only it was that easy.”  Clearly the Priest who wrote this devotional back in 1908 had no idea what would be in store for our family, and families like ours, the burdens we would carry.  Then I caught myself reading instead of allowing myself to continue the internal dialogue that could easily have erupted into the full blown self pity that brings hot and angry tears.



"We can not fight this battle continually for half a century.  But really there are no long stretches.  Life does not come to us all at one time; it comes only a day at a time… It is a blessed secret this, of living by the day.  Anyone can carry his burden, however heavy, till nightfall.  Anyone can live sweetly, patiently, lovingly, purely, until the sun goes down.  And this is all life ever means to us ­­­­– just one little day." (Lasance, Rev. F. E. 1908)

And there it was, in plain black and white text, the answer to my circular question from the night before.  All any of us can take is what we are given in a day, in that moment.  Not a being on this Earth was meant to live more than just a day at a time, to breathe more than just the air that is within our lungs upon each breath.  The pages we have already turned are the very answer to the question, “how much can we take.”  We can only take what we are given today.  So, we will all continue to step forward with our heavy loads, placing them on the bedside table each night, turning our burdens over to God, knowing that tomorrow’s little day is yet to come, and today is said and gone.

Now that is something I have faith we all can do.
-Lasance, Rev. F. E., My Prayer Book, Benzingers Brother Inc, 1908

Here's to all the MOMs....

The New Year has arrived and we are well into our way of finding out how our 2015 year will be.  At the end of every year I always look back and think what it consisted of....how many doctor appointments, therapies, hospital stays, surgeries, etc.  I am sometimes saddened that my child had a rough one, but then I smile because we made it another year.  I see all my other Facebook MOM (mommies of miracles) friends and think about how their year was and how they made it out....

These MOMs aren't like my typical Facebook friends.  These ladies have become a part of my family, albeit 95% of them I've never met in person.  Our children brought us together.  Our bond is strong because we live a life that no one else can possibly understand.  We fondly look at each other's pictures or statuses and give an encouraging word, praise their children's hard earned milestones, tell our experiences, or cry with them over some of the hardships of our children's lives.  This aspect of our lives is why Facebook has become so important, it is where our best friends are that we can't see in person.  Some MOMs have just been inducted into the club with their newly diagnosed child while others have been a MOM for many years....each MOM comes with her own experience and knowledge.  Knowing I have these women in my life, through the screen, helps me put one foot in front of the other to care for my miracle child the absolute best way I can.  So here's to you, my amazing mommy of miracle friends...

Here's to the MOM...who was just told that her sweet child has a rare disorder and will need constant care.  Her life is forever changed and she is needing support.

Here's to the MOM....who has a toddler who is developmentally delayed and hasn't reached milestones that most toddlers have.  Her hopes and dreams for her child remain in tact as she brings her child to therapies and is tirelessly working with him.

Here's to the MOM....who pushes that beautiful child in the bright blue wheelchair in and out of stores, hospitals, doctor offices, schools, parks, birthday parties, theaters.  She proudly shows her child the world and more importantly shows the world her child.

Here's to the MOM....who has a child with an invisible disorder and gets stares from strangers that judge her parenting skills.  She knows her child like the back of her hand and hopes that with enough exposure and compassion the public can see her child for the way he or she is.

Here's to the MOM....who was told that their child was born blind and would never see.  She never gives up hope that possibly the doctors were wrong.  Her life is a journey of glasses, canes, Braille, sensory integration, and overcoming stigmas.

Here's to the MOM....whose beautiful child has a disorder that will take their life.  The thought of losing her child is never far from her mind, yet she holds onto hope.  Her life is a constant state of when and holding onto her miracle for as long as she can.

Here's to the MOM....who is seen arguing with her miracle child's doctor about what her child needs.  She isn't afraid of a degree in medicine.  She only has one purpose in this life and that is getting her child the best medical care possible.

Here's to the MOM....who is learning to live this lifestyle after her healthy child was in an accident that has changed them forever.  Her heart breaks into a million pieces, but remains strong for her child.

Here's to the MOM....whose child has grown into an adult.  She knows all the ins and outs of this life dealing with special needs.  She is an valuable part of our community of MOMs and is so respected and looked up to.

Here's to the MOM....who lives in the hospital more than they do at home.  She has become great friends with the nurses, therapists, residents, custodians that work at the hospital.  She is an expert of hospital life and can pack a go back in 30 seconds flat.

Here's to the MOM....whose child with special needs has left this Earth and is now an angel.  Her arms physically ache to hold her child and to see their beautiful, sparkling eyes again.  She will forever be in our community because this was her way of  life too, and just because her child isn't with us anymore, SHE still is.  Her presence reminds us to hug our children tighter, cherish our days together, and to send her our love when she needs us.

2015 will most definitely have its ups and downs, as every year does, but this year as we endure our daily struggles and triumphs let us remember all the other MOMs out there.  Reach out to your fellow MOMs for advice and friendship and encouragement.  We are all in this together....rejoicing on a successful therapy session, being mentally and physically exhausted from an extra long hospital stay, or quietly savoring a special moment before bed holding your child where no words are needed to know and feel his or her sweet, pure love.

 

My real blog post

This past weekend we went to my brother in law's 30th birthday party, and while standing in their kitchen I happened to notice their calendar.  It had two things on it for the entire month.  I stood in awe and amazement and perhaps a little bit of jealousy.  What I would give to only have two things on our calendar.  We have two calendars just to keep track of everything.  Our lives have become a hectic semi-organized litany of doctors appointments, OT/ST/PT therapy sessions, phone calls to medical equipment suppliers, coordination of services, driving to/from daycare and grandma's house, etc etc etc.  Throw on top of that doctor's appointments for me (with my own health issues), working full time, laundry, cleaning, cooking, dishes, grocery shopping, taking care of the house, picking up prescriptions, and trying to maintain a healthy relationship with my husband, and there are times that I don't stop moving until my head hits the pillow at night.  I do have to say that my husband helps out a TON with the housework, cooking, and cleaning, and I am very blessed to have him so I'm not doing it all alone.  Even so, I wake up in the morning completely tired, drained, and just plain exhausted.

I think sometimes its so easy for us to get caught up in the day to day activities of caring for our miracles that we forget to take care of ourselves.  We are so busy, crazy busy, that by the end of the day we are too tired to think about doing anything for us.  I think that's when the problems start to creep in.  We just go through the motions of daily life but don't really LIVE it.  Burnout, exhaustion, and functioning on auto-pilot.  Caregiver burnout is a very real thing, and should be taken as seriously as any other health issue.  Taking care of a miracle (depending on their medical situation) can be a full time job for several people put together.  Sometimes we try to take all of that on ourselves.  We have to remember we are human too, and can only do so much.  If we just go, go, go without a break, we will reach the point where someone needs to take care of us.   Sometimes, we need help.

 

And I think that's where I am.  My daughter is coming up on her 3rd birthday in December.  We have started the transition from Early Intervention over to the school district.  Meetings and paperwork abound.  We just switched formulas again, but she won't drink the new one either.  I count every calorie, every ounce she gains or loses.  Winter is coming upon us and I am nervous, will she be as sick as she was last year?  Will I miss as much work?  I am in a new job that is much more demanding of my time and energy, but we need the money so I have to do well.  My doctors are changing some of my medications around, and although I know that the end result will help me better, the change itself is always difficult.  My car is falling apart.  Money is tight.  Bills are everywhere.  My stress level is through the roof.  On top of all that, my husband and I started fighting.  A lot.  For years, 95% of our conversations have been about Elizabeth, and somewhere along the way we lost the ability to communicate about anything else without  a fight ensuing.  We have been so focused on our daughter that everything else went by the wayside.  We are now in couples therapy to work on our communication skills, and to try to learn healthy ways of dealing with the stress level in our lives.

 

So I guess the point of my rant is this:  so many times I read blog posts that are uplifting, encouraging, positive, optimistic.  Sometimes when I read those posts I feel like there's something wrong with me because I don't feel that way too.  Like, am I the only one who gets exhausted and discouraged and depressed?  Am I the only one who cries in the shower because that's where I can get 5 minutes alone?  I don't think I am ... so I wanted to do a different blog post and talk about how hard this can be sometimes.  How much other people just don't get it.  How stressed we are, how tired we are.  How overwhelming this journey can become.  How we acknowledge the strength it takes to be a MOM, but sometimes we just get so tired of having to be strong.  We want to relinquish our superhero status sometimes.  And how important I think it is that we acknowledge that.  The lives we live are not easy.

 

But at the same time, I want to stress how important it is to take care of yourself.  So often we put our children first and make sure their needs are met (as any MOM does). But in doing so, are we putting ourselves into burnout mode?  We need to occasionally take time for ourselves, and take time for our marriages/relationships.  What good am I to my daughter if I'm falling apart and exhausted?  What good are we to Elizabeth if we are fighting?  I have to put myself first sometimes so that I am able to be a better parent to her and a better wife to my husband.  We have to put our marriage first so that we can be loving, kind, attentive parents to Elizabeth.  Much easier said than done.  Although my husband and I are making a concerted effort to make time for just the two of us, and we are going to couples therapy, I have a much harder time taking care of me individually.  I am trying, though.  I go and get my nails done once a month.  A few weeks ago I got my haircut (first time in a year).  A little bit of "me" time.  I make sure I can make it to my own doctors appointments.  That's really it.  I know there is more to it than that, and I am working on taking care of me, so I can better take care of her.  I think we are all working on that.  But it's hard, it's really hard.

 

[caption id="attachment_6783" align="alignleft" width="224"] Me and my miracle, cuddling by the campfire one night when I was just terribly overwhelmed with it all, and burying my face in her hugs was all I could manage to do.[/caption]

 

So this blog post may not be uplifting, or optimistic, or enlightening.  It may not teach you anything new.  But this blog post is real, this is from my heart.  I want to acknowledge to all the MOMs out there how hard this journey is.  I have had a very rough couple of months, and I wanted to write this to let you know that you are not alone.  We all struggle, we all cry, we all are overwhelmed.  We all go through good phases and bad.  We get tired of being strong all the time, it's exhausting.  Never think you are alone.  You are surrounded by an army of MOMs who can relate to what you're going through.  Try to take some time for yourself, if you can, even if its 5 minutes a day.  Take some time for the relationships in your life so they don't disintegrate.  Recognize that its ok to have bad days, or bad weeks, but remember that it won't stay that way.  The one good thing about life is that it is always changing, so the bad we have today may be gone tomorrow.  Above all remember to take care of YOU, so that you can be the best possible MOM to your miracle.

 

And for all you MOMs having a rough time, I am sending love and hugs your way ...