Real talk. I didn’t want to get out of bed today. I actually wondered how long the baby might fuss before just going back to sleep. I actually waited longer than I normally do. I desperately wanted to pull the covers back over my head and pretend none of this existed.
To be honest I have been numbing myself to cope. Because I know I need to be a just a little numb or the weight of the reality we now live in will overtake me. But today – the numbing isn’t working. The tears are threatening. The exhaustion is settling. And I just don’t want to do it anymore.
I have been quiet in this space, because I feel incredibly guilty about my struggle. There are so many families that are in a way worse situation than we are. There are so many kids who are facing the reality of not enough food, not enough money, and maybe no home in a few short months (I know this because I work with these mamas at Tandem and their struggle is REAL). And here I am struggling in the deepest part of my soul because I am stuck at home. Because I am lonely. Because the connection that sustains me has been ripped away. How can I even put that into words, when it just isn’t the same?
But here is the truth – grief comes in all shapes and sizes. No matter what situation you are in because of COVID 19, you still get to grieve. You still get to struggle and wrestle and question. Because there is space for it all. Each of us experiences these emotions and each of us has permission. While I will never pretend that my situation is dire right now – I will stand in my truth of what it is. And it is HARD.
It is hard to be mama 24/7 with little relief from a husband who is on the front lines right now. Law Enforcement is essential always – but especially now.
It is hard not to feel resentful that I am at home all. the. fricken. time. And my husband gets to leave to go to work.
It is hard to channel my inner patience and peace, when my 5 year old is not listening and antagonizing and hurting the baby over and over again.
It is hard to live on 3 hours of sleep day after day because the baby refuses to sleep anymore.
It is hard to be faced with the reality over and over again that I am not enough. There is not enough of me to be mama to both of my boys simultaneously and give them both all that they need all of the time. It is hard because the big has told me more than once “he misses the good old days before the baby when mama used to play with me”. Que ugly cry.
It is hard because we had to cancel my son’s birthday and his little heart was broken.
It is hard because the littles don’t understand and cry because they cannot play with their friends or go to school.
It is hard because I have never felt more alone. The reality of how much the connection of my mama tribe sustains me is setting in.
But mostly it is hard because there is no end in sight. We have no idea how long this will last or if it will ever go back to normal. We have no idea how many days we will trudge through this madness and just pray for the night to come. We have no idea how many days we will be utterly overwhelmed, exhausted and hanging on by a thread.
It is hard because when I look forward I only see darkness. I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, because there has been no light offered.
Full stop – and correction. There has been no light offered by this world – but that does not mean there is no light offered at all. Because my God says there is light in the darkness – and it is Him. My God says he uses it all for our good. And even when I cannot see the light, even when I don’t want to get out of bed, even when there seems that there cannot possibly be ANY good to come from this, I am choosing to believe. Because that’s what faith and hope is – it is believing in all that we cannot see. It is choosing joy. It is choosing gratitude. It is choosing to get up out of that damn bed and DO what we need to do. It is choosing to be mama – to find smiles and to share my truth. It is giving space for you and for my babies to be and feel all the things right now. And it is just showing up and saying I can do this, I will do this, and we will overcome this.
So, that’s what I am going to do today. Just show up as I am, with all of my BIG feelings; and I will do what I need to do. I will cry. I will smile. I will play. I will dance. I will cook and I will clean – maybe. But most of all I will believe in a God who makes a way and says I am never alone. Because maybe, just maybe, in all of this I can rekindle the connection with the One who really matters. And maybe, I will find my way back to myself and to who He created me to be.
We have nothing but time, sisters. We have nothing but ourselves, our families, and our God. Let’s lean in and just do the next thing today. Just get out of bed. Just give grace. Just love with all that you have. And just know that you are not alone.