Seasons changes are guaranteed. I love seasons changing. It was always a magical time & something I looked forward to celebrating with my kids. Seeing their faces on the first snow or finding the first bloom. Most of the time, even if we don’t look forward to a long winter, the changing of seasons is magical.
This year’s been a lot less magical.
At the beginning of the year, I barely noticed the seasons changing because I was in newborn land. That was enough change for me! The birth of my second son right at the holiday season. Missing Christmas wasn’t so bad because I got to hold him. I could do this.
We experienced different seasons then. Newborn season changed to colic season. That season lasted a long time. Many seasons changed during those times and it was all blurry whites, grays, blues & greens. The outside seasons didn’t really matter, the seasons inside of our house were more than enough to take in. It was heavy & hard. I looked forward to it being the next season.
The next season was not so good. Insomnia returned. Even while my baby slept, I couldn’t. Days went by with little to none. My body would lay there for hours, exhausted & when sleep finally started to fade in, my body would jerk itself back awake not allowing coveted sleep in. Grief was everywhere & touched everything. Life was hard to live feeling like at any moment I’d whither away. Moments taken from me – baby’s laughter, firsts, smiles I could’ve had. I think about all of that & more with heaviness in my heart. What could God be thinking allowing this to happen to me? Months & months of this season of insanity, desperation. Losing everything I was & losing precious moments with my kids. Watching them grow so fast while I was a shell of a mom, so undeserved for them.
Who knew seasons overlapped…
Within these came the darkest: husband sick. Of all the seasons & changes I’ve experienced, this was indeed the worst. There’s nothing magical about seeing your strong husband dwindling before your eyes. Nothing magical about seeing his color change, his hair thin, his body shrink. Nothing magical about the desperation, tears, prayers unanswered. Nothing magical about feeling like time is still passing with nothing getting better. And absolutely nothing helping. Trying everything I can & everything I could imagine with no results. Months & months & months. Tears & tears. Why does it have to happen to the better one of us? Why do these seasons overlap resulting in stretched thin lives, relational hurts, outbursts, inability to comfort? I thought God was good.
The shade of these seasons colored everything around me. The changing seasons of the world so lackluster. So grayscale. All saturation sucked out of them. Each of the joys experienced, like a cage not letting my heart get too high, but stay sunken so low.
Medications, counselors, doctors, prayer partners – no answers anywhere. Postpartum depression? Maybe, but circumstances make it hard to ever get better when they just keep getting worse. Faithlessness? For sure. My faith dried up. With no answers or assurance, it’s so hard to keep pressing on.
What could I possibly have to be thankful for?
I know I always do. Jay & I say it almost daily. We got another day, Jesus died on the cross for us, God loves us. There’s always hope. Every day I wake up is another day alive, with my boys, with Zak. I wish my heart could feel the hope there is in those words. But it’s been beaten into submission more times than not this year & told to be okay & feel better – or else! I just can’t fake it anymore. I’m hopeless.
Is there anything good that’s come from this?
Yes, of course. The first & most wonderful is our son which was the shining light at the beginning hasn’t ever dimmed. Yes, there were times I couldn’t bare to be around him due to his crying, but he’s a lot better now. Still fussy, but much better. He’s my sweet angel boy, who I love to hug & comfort as I wish someone could do for me.
I think I’ve softened, too. I used to be proud of how straight I was – this is the way, the answer, the reason, etc. Now, I’m not so sure. It’s not that simple. I hear of someone in pain, I can’t judge them anymore. I have no idea what they’re going through. I can’t change them, I can’t even help them. I can pray for them, cry with them. My sorrow abounds for you.
I also realize time is short. I don’t want to stop doing what I’m doing because there’s important things to be done in life – even if we feel like shit, look like shit, don’t have our shit together (or shit ourselves.) I just hope, if anything, I’m useful in the end. I feel so much has been taken out of me through these hard times. So much of who I was has changed. Getting outside of myself is sometimes the only thing I know that will help me I got to babysit some beautiful kids, study the Bible with some amazing women, make meals for new mothers… somehow, these things are the highlights. Along with the little things – making my house tidy, cooking meals, taking walks, showers, working out – small accomplishments to make me think all is well. And of course, when my mind allows, my boys, my husband, our family. We still have each other & time, thus far. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I have to trust God is good. He brought me out of many seasons before. I know he can, he will. One way or another.