Picking myself back up.

Sorry for the sad dreary blog post. Like always I've managed to pick myself back up from being so down. I searched for this poem and it really helped. It's easily my favorite. My faith dwindles sometimes. I feel guilty. I feel pain. But it's alright because I'm only human and need to see that I can't be so hard on myself. Maybe I was chosen for Noah. Maybe there is a greater reason behind all of this madness we endure. All I know is that I am strong enough to handle even the darkest, most miserable times this diagnosis will give us. And I will always be strong enough for Noah. I beat myself up for having moments of weakness but I have to realize it's okay to breakdown and cry. The biggest thing that helps me is thinking about how Noah might feel this way some day. Like life isn't very fair. And how I want him to learn to find joy in his life and pick himself back up whenever he's down too. He will always be my motivation to be a better person. I love him so much. I hope everyone enjoys this poem too. Maybe it'll hit close to home for some of you as well.

 

The Special Mother by Erma Bombeck

 

Did you ever wonder how mothers of disabled children were chosen?

Somehow I visualize God hovering over the Earth selecting His instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

"This one gets a daughter. The Patron saint will be Cecelia."

"This one gets twins. The Patron saint will be Matthew."

"This one gets a son. The Patron saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."

Finally He passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a disabled child."

The angel is curious, "Why this one God? She's so happy."

"Exactly", smiles God. "Could I give a disabled child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But has she patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it. I watched her today, she has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world. She has to make him live in her world and that's not going to be easy."

"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles, "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect - she has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps - "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?'

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes here is a woman whom I will bess with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word'. She will never consider any 'step' ordinary. When her child says "Momma" for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and will know it! I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty and prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing my work as surely as if she is here by my side."

"And what about her Patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid air. God smiles, "A mirror will suffice."