Wednesday, September 25, 2013

I Cannot Break

I am writing this through tears. I am in an unconscionable amount of physical pain. Today alone, the pain has been so severe that I have vomited, fainted, and then fainted after I've vomited.

Something is wrong with me.

I cannot break. 

I am mom to Morgan and Bay. I am Mom. I am wife to Thomas. I am the axis upon which their world spins. But something is not right.

I am in pain. A lot of pain.

I cannot break.

I was promised relief three years ago when they made me less than a woman, when I had "everything" that makes me a woman taken away. I wasn't okay with this, but I did it to watch my boys grow. To grow old with my husband. And now, it seems, one of those monsters is back. And it feels like it is eating me alive.

I'm so mad. 

The past 72 hours or more have been pure hell. I can't eat. I can barely sleep. It hurts to actually laugh. I'm scared to walk outside and I refuse to drive because I might lose consciousness.

I cannot break. 

I am in a lot of pain.

My kids are scared, very scared. I keep explaining that Mom can't die, that I just need rest. But how does it look to them, at the ages of eight and five, to see their mom passed out on the floor? To find me vomiting? To see me on my hands and knees, crying, and begging God to please take away my pain?  To see their mother crying uncontrollably because she just can't escape the hell that is her own body?

They've seen me sick too many times. This isn't right. No child should have to experience seeing their mother in a hospital. This time is different than the others, but they are older now. They remember last year. They know that when Mommy is feeling really awful, things aren't good. They are anxious.

I say I cannot break, but I feel so broken. 

I'm so angry at my body. And hurt. Why would it do this?

I have an amazing support system, both virtually and in real life, I've discovered. When I was in the ER last Sunday, I kept getting texts from people I've never met in my life. Yet, these people cared enough to ask how I was doing, how the kids were, how Thomas was handling things. If you're reading this, please know that there will never be enough "thank yous" to express the amount of gratitude I have for your act of kindness.

I can't break any more than I already have. 

I feel, right now, like there isn't much left to break.


  1. Hang in there. I'm not trying IN THE LEAST to compare our situations, because the pain you're in sounds like it's A MILLION times worse than the pain I was experiencing, but a few years ago I found out I was pregnant. And my Hcg continued to rise. And then it dropped. And then I experienced horrible pains that brought me to my knees in front of my husband and son. The end result: ruptured ectopic pregnancy with left salpingectomy (removal of my left fallopian tube). I had little time to come to terms that I would recover from surgery--no longer pregnant, before I was being wheeled in on an emergency basis because blood was pooling into my abdomen. I'm so relieved that my son had no idea what was going on, and that he wasn't scared. Suddenly, grandma was watching him for 3 weeks! Cool! So please know that, in a small way, I feel your pain. :(

  2. I hope this pain is figured out for you and taken care of. To many of us you are our release, our cannot break button. Thank you for allowing us in and shating your life good and bad so we know we are not alone. And you are not alone in this either♥

  3. I'm so sorry that you are going through this. Again. I really hope that you will get relief soon and be back to your normal, funny, crazy self. :) You are awesome.

  4. I'm praying for you.

  5. I am so sorry. I hope you find answers and relief from your pain.

  6. <3 <3 <3 and hugs!!! You know you can call if you need anything!