There is a saying that goes something like "Don't tell God how big your storm is, tell your storm how big your God is". While I'm not overly religious (that's another blog for another time), I really like this idea. There are days when my storm feels like it is going to knock me over, where I am facing into the wind, bracing myself with each step, and marching forward against the pounding rain. Yesterday was one of those days.
Cameron had her 1 year checkup at McMaster for the Early Autism Study, and as I was driving back from Hamilton, I had a "why me, why Max?" moment. I was dreading taking Max to his paediatrician appointment that afternoon, knowing it would be stressful on him, on me. I was thinking to myself, how many moms spend their mornings taking one child to an Autism study, and their afternoons taking their other child to the doctor to discuss getting blood work done that will require him to be sedated in the hospital because he won't let us take blood?
But then I thought, you know what? How many mothers with an Autistic child would just say "forget it, I'm done" and give up. Probably a lot, and trust me, there is no judgement coming from me on that, I get it. I understand the desire to tell God how big your storm is, and the need to pray for some respite from the howling rain. My personal storm is Autism, and my God may not be the typical Christian God, or Jewish God, or whatever God that the majority pray to, but I do have faith. Faith in myself, faith that I will not give up on this child, and faith that I am myself a force to be reckoned with, someone who does not accept failure. Sometimes when the storm is howling around my head, I question this faith, but inevitably, it comes roaring back and pushes the storm clouds away.
I have had this underlying feeling lately that the tide is about to turn, something big is about to happen for me, for my family, for Max. I have no idea what it is, but I am keeping an open mind and an open heart. You may think it is foolish optimism, but you just watch, the clouds are about to break.
Beautifully written, Kat! Very inspiring. Your God will kick your storm's ass, I'm sure of it!
ReplyDeleteThanks Vanessa!
ReplyDeleteVery well put... there is a poem by Erma Bombeck which was given to me after Mikhaila got diagnosed with down syndrome...it's called The Special Mother...I have it framed in my room and it is sooooo true....look it up Kat
ReplyDeleteIrene
PS I think I'm still drunk :)
It is not foolish optimisim, it is a sign of your personal strength. You sound like someone who draws strength from within themselves. You will prevail and your storm will not beat you.
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing post, and attitude. That storm better look out - between your God and personal determination, he doesn't stand an effing chance!
ReplyDeleteI have no idea what I would do or how I would react in your situation. It's all talk until you are there. But I did stumble on an interesting article today in a newsletter that I receive, so I am passing it on to you. Do with it as you wish.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.healthinhighheels.com/
sending you love,
rebecca
Max's mom is fierce. He's a lucky kid.
ReplyDeleteYou’re an unstoppable force and Max is better off because of it.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully put.
ReplyDeleteTag :)
You are strong! You go girl.
ReplyDelete