Sunday, January 4, 2015

I've Become the Mom I Never Wanted to Be

When I was a child, my mother had many health ailments. She couldn't stand for long periods of time, couldn't sit on the floor, couldn't ride a bike, etc. She became ill with cancer and was bedridden for the last year or so of her life. I was 8 when she died. I knew then I wanted to be a mom like my friends had. I wanted to be thin, physically active with my children, most importantly, I wanted to be healthy.

Today, I laid in bed with yet another fibromyalgia pain flare and bout of vertigo and realized I became "that mom" that I did not wish to become. I am obese, I'm not nearly as physically active as I'd like, and days like today have me in bed. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas I was in bed for two weeks. After Christmas, in bed for one, so far. 

I am missing out on playing with my children. I'm missing out on cooking dinner with my kids and for my kids. I'm missing out on helping them with crafts and activities. 

My kids say goodbye to me in the morning while I'm in bed. They come upstairs to see me after work or school to say hi. They bring me meals and something to drink. They watch tv with me. We play games on the iPod or phone. We talk. 

I'd give anything to be normal, for just one day. To be able to blow dry my daughter's hair without pain. My son does it for her, instead. I'd rather make homemade mashed potatoes instead of something from a box. I'd love to sit down on the floor and play barbies, or candy land. I want my life back. 

If it weren't for my children, the suicidal thoughts in the middle of the night would become real. If it weren't for my children I'd just give up fighting this chronic daily pain. If it weren't for my children I would have given up a long time ago. It's not just my children keeping me going, it's my close friends, too. They miss out on having a healthy friend, too! 

Fibromyalgia eats away at your very soul. One day you're doing fine. The next you feel lousy and six months later you have a diagnosis. Years go by and that lousy feeling gets worse and worse with more and more symptoms. 

I suspect my mother had fibromyalgia. She had chronic pain. As a child, I didn't understand why she couldn't do things with me that other moms did. As a mom with chronic pain, I now know. I now appreciate even more what she did do for me. The memories she created lasted a lifetime. 

Today Hope and I made bracelets. We watched TV and had dinner in bed. We played trivia crack and I unknowingly helped her beat me. Those are her memories. Hopefully she will overlook the part that I was sick and think of the fun we had. My hands will ache more tomorrow. I'm nauseous tonight, the pain flaring. 

I'm that mom. That mom I never wanted to be. 

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