I shared months ago about the lessons that I’ve learned over
the course of our struggles. If you missed that, you can read here. But over
the last week I had a very harsh reminder of the most valuable lesson I’ve
learned – I can’t do this alone.
If you’ve been following along, you know that we learned
just after Christmas that our 2nd round of IVF failed. Around that
time, I also learned of a couple of people with PSC, the liver disease that
Reid has, being diagnosed with terminal cancer. I was so ridden with anxiety
and sadness. But I pretended to be okay. I didn’t talk much about any of it,
but when others asked how I was doing I would just say “I’m okay, I mean what
other choice do I have?” But that’s the thing, we do have another choice.
Sometimes you have to let yourself breakdown and feel those feelings. But I
didn’t… I just silently sat with a pit in my stomach for days, and didn’t talk about
it. Maybe I thought it would go away? I honestly don’t think I was even doing
it consciously. I just didn’t want to deal with it. I sat on the couch and
watched TV, and had no desire to do much else.
And then one morning, about a week after we learned about
our abnormal embryos, I couldn’t get out of bed. And I couldn’t stop crying. It
was bad, y’all. We’ve been through a lot over the last 3 1/2 years, and I think
this was one of the lowest days I’ve had. I seriously didn’t think I could pull
myself out of it. Honestly, I couldn’t. Not alone. I couldn’t even bring myself
to get up and feed the dog. Or brush my teeth. I had no desire to do ANYTHING.
And I just kept sobbing.
I knew I needed help. Fortunately for us, I know we have
plenty of it around. And so I asked. See, here’s the thing – not a single
person knew what was going through my brain that day. My husband didn’t even
know how low I was. I mean, he leaves for work while I’m still asleep, so there’s
no way he could have known by my daily “I love you, have a good day” that I was
not okay. And I had done an amazing job at pretending… he seriously had no idea.
But I woke up that morning, and it all caught up to me. So I had to ask. I had
to tell people what I was feeling and how low I was. And I had to LET them help
me.
When I started this journey, I was a different person. I was
used to helping other people (although I will admit I was much better at that
when I was single and wasn’t wrapped up in my own shit). I didn’t ask for help.
At least not often. And now I ask for it – all the time (at least that’s the
way it feels). But you know what? I’m okay with that. Because it’s perfectly
okay to not be okay. It’s perfectly fine to need help. It’s perfectly fine to let people help you. If you don’t have
friends that will skip a shower and run over to your house with a Frappuccino (or
whatever your poison is) to pull you out of bed – then I pray that you will
find at least one friend that will do that. I’m super fortunate to have those
people. And they WANT to help me.
So my words of wisdom for you are this (and they’re not
rocket science)… let people help you. And tell them when you need help. You don’t
have to have it together all the time. I think the strongest people are those
that can admit they don’t have it all together. Everyone has their own worries,
their own to-do lists, and their own lives. You can’t expect others, even your
spouse with whom you share a bed, to know what’s going on in your life and how
you’re feeling from day to day. But they want to be there. Let them. And don’t
forget the kindness they show to you. Be a good friend in return. Because that’s
what matters most in life – those people that are by your side and ready to pick
you up when you just can’t seem to get out of bed. Oh, and I also recommend a
good therapist.
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