Last week on our way to dinner, I was talking to The Husband about recent research with cannabis, and how it could change so many lives in regards to epilepsy. I said something like, "Can you imagine? If the government changed the drug classification, we could be staring at a healthy control of seizures! I mean, I know she's well-controlled now, but in the future, she could be 100% without all the horrible side effects! We could be looking at the closest thing to a cure we may ever see."
Liz piped up from the back seat, "Mom, are you talking about me and my epilepsy?"
"Yes, hon. We're talking about what it would be like for you to not ever have to worry about seizures again."
"But, Mom...I don't want to get rid of my epilepsy."
"....Okay...? Why?"
"Because my epilepsy is part of what make me, me. I like me just how I am."
Out of the mouths of babes.
Sometimes it's hard to see beyond a diagnosis. It becomes such a huge part of your lives because it has to. You get caught up in what it has changed, even when you're not cognizant of the fact that you're feeling that way. It's been a part of your feelings for so long that you've accepted it as part of you.
Occasionally, I've really thought about what Liz would be like if she'd never had that first seizure or any of the seizures that followed it. I imagine this wonderful, beautiful, strong young woman that's fierce and powerful. She grows up and has the world at her feet. I mourn that Liz has never had the ability to meet or become that person.
Then Liz reminds me that she's never mourned that loss because there's no need to. She's beautiful, strong, wonderful, fierce, and powerful just like she is. She's also kind, empathetic, loving, joyous, fun, random, and spontaneous. I've spent time over the years focusing on what could have been, rather than focusing on what is. I don't do it often, mostly just when we're struggling with her condition more than normal. I'm sure it's completely normal when dealing with any kind of health problem within a family, but sometimes I need to be reminded that it's part of our lives, just not all of our lives.
I am so profoundly lucky that I get to be her mom.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Sunday, December 7, 2014
Holiday Reflections
I've always been thankful that I've been Liz's mom. I wasn't one of those young moms that had a baby in her early twenties and then spent the rest of my early twenties regretting it. From the second I knew she existed, I loved her unconditionally and irrevocably.
As she grew, I tried to take in the special moments that I knew were special and make memories. I wrote down the hilarious things she says. I cuddled when she wanted to. I made special efforts for family time when she was in good enough health, and I loved every single minute. As she's progressed into pre-teen years, I'm fully aware we're entering into a time of lasts. For example, this may be the last Christmas she believes in Santa. For all the lasts we're having, we're also having a few firsts.
I never realized that we hadn't gone to a Christmas parade before. It was one of those things that I always heard about it after the fact, and we were sad we missed it. This year, though, I heard about the parade very early on the day it was set to happen, and we went. We froze our keesters off, but we went. Seeing Liz loving all the parade floats lit up with Christmas decorations made the frigid temps worth it. Hearing her belt out "Let It Go" every single time a float passed by with a Frozen theme warmed my heart. Having her say, "MOM!! That was the BEST THING EVER!!" on the way back to the car brought more than a few tears to my eyes.
Yesterday we went to the local Christmas fair. Texas is nothing if not a bit bipolar when it comes to weather, so while there was a windchill of 25 degrees on the night of the parade on Monday night, yesterday it was a balmy 70 degrees most of the day. We had a blast. She rode rides. She won a stuffed animal. We ate copious amounts of junk food and laughed at the ducks trying to snag a bite of our nachos. We stayed until Santa arrived on the scene, and then walked back to our car. It was another first for us, and she'd been looking forward to the day since October.
Through it all, I couldn't stop smiling. I get to be the mom to that amazing little girl, and we get to share wonderful moments together. I wonder what she'll be like as a teenager. I wonder if she'll be moody and sullen or if she'll be like she is now. I wonder if we'll always be as close as we are now, or if she'll distance herself as she progresses through the minefield of being a teenage girl. Whatever happens, I'll continue to be thankful that I am her mom. She has always been the source of immense of amounts of joy, and though she may end up as a moody teenager, I don't see that changing. Her very nature is joy and peace. I am so lucky.
Happy Holidays.
As she grew, I tried to take in the special moments that I knew were special and make memories. I wrote down the hilarious things she says. I cuddled when she wanted to. I made special efforts for family time when she was in good enough health, and I loved every single minute. As she's progressed into pre-teen years, I'm fully aware we're entering into a time of lasts. For example, this may be the last Christmas she believes in Santa. For all the lasts we're having, we're also having a few firsts.
I never realized that we hadn't gone to a Christmas parade before. It was one of those things that I always heard about it after the fact, and we were sad we missed it. This year, though, I heard about the parade very early on the day it was set to happen, and we went. We froze our keesters off, but we went. Seeing Liz loving all the parade floats lit up with Christmas decorations made the frigid temps worth it. Hearing her belt out "Let It Go" every single time a float passed by with a Frozen theme warmed my heart. Having her say, "MOM!! That was the BEST THING EVER!!" on the way back to the car brought more than a few tears to my eyes.
Yesterday we went to the local Christmas fair. Texas is nothing if not a bit bipolar when it comes to weather, so while there was a windchill of 25 degrees on the night of the parade on Monday night, yesterday it was a balmy 70 degrees most of the day. We had a blast. She rode rides. She won a stuffed animal. We ate copious amounts of junk food and laughed at the ducks trying to snag a bite of our nachos. We stayed until Santa arrived on the scene, and then walked back to our car. It was another first for us, and she'd been looking forward to the day since October.
Through it all, I couldn't stop smiling. I get to be the mom to that amazing little girl, and we get to share wonderful moments together. I wonder what she'll be like as a teenager. I wonder if she'll be moody and sullen or if she'll be like she is now. I wonder if we'll always be as close as we are now, or if she'll distance herself as she progresses through the minefield of being a teenage girl. Whatever happens, I'll continue to be thankful that I am her mom. She has always been the source of immense of amounts of joy, and though she may end up as a moody teenager, I don't see that changing. Her very nature is joy and peace. I am so lucky.
Happy Holidays.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)