Perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion of a day with a five year old and two year old. Perhaps it was my lack of ability to decompress with a glass (or four...keeping it real ya'll) of wine these days. Perhaps it's that today is Elena's last day of preschool forever and she's getting so tall, pretty and losing all her baby-ness. Perhaps it's that I'm pregnant and hormonal and emotional and hot (warning, long summer ahead) and that my back hurts like the dickens all day every day and that I have a true love for run-on sentences....but man, I had to have a moment last night (and all day so far today!).
I just get so sad sometimes thinking about all that Elena has to sit by and watch around her. And no, this doesn't mean I'm not incredibly aware and grateful for all we have been blessed with (which Chad was quick to point out already). But, sometimes I can't help but just be overtaken by a profound sadness.
My sweet, happy girl sits in her stroller next to Mom while all the neighborhood kids play together and splash around in our oh, so awesome blow up pool. It stings. She can't fully participate in the Field Day activities at school (even though they do their very best to include her) because her stander can't roll through the grass or she can't lift her arms to carry something in the relay race. The pictures of it are little daggers in my soul. She can't hide and chase her Daddy through the house, giggling and squealing like her little brother does. I love watching Cal do it, but watching Elena as this occurs breaks my heart. She can't see the silly dance moves of her Mom and Dad to laugh at during our many all family dance parties. There are literally hundreds of moments each and every day that make my heart break.
Then there is the guilt. The guilt that I should do more, give her more, engage her more, always more. And the reality of just being a Mom with another two year old and eventually a newborn is crushing because I know there's less and less time for more of anything with her. For most kids, that's ok. But Elena requires more of everything, that's just the nature of a having a child with special needs. I constantly fight myself internally on what I should be doing with her, what I need to be doing with her. There's the guilt of what I do with Calvin that I can't do with her. There are hundreds of these moments, too, each and every day.
When I have days where the sadness and guilt rise up in me, sometimes it's just too much. My heart hurts for my best girl and my heart hurts for our family. Everything will be more difficult. Everything will require more. Everything will likely have some element of sadness and guilt to it. There's a fear of how we will do things in the future. That's just the truth of the matter.
I know there's a whole other side to this. A side of light and happiness and faith and blessings. But, just to keep it real you guys, there's always this side too. I don't always write about it. I don't like these moments, days. Honestly, I don't always feel it. But, it is always there. The heartbreak always lies there somewhere. And blame it on the bevvy of reasons listed above, I'm feeling it.
As one of my faves, Glennon Melton of Momastery, says...."Life is brutiful. It's brutal and beautiful woven so tightly together, they can't be separated."
Oh my heart, she's just the most beautiful girl I ever could imagine.