April 21, 2015

For 36 hours this past weekend, my baby decided to give up walking. You know that pathetic paw up look that dogs do when they have injured their paw…that was what Noah was doing. It was heart breaking for a normal mother to watch…
I can’t seem to just roll with the punches and take things for what they are. Rather, I go code red. My child couldn’t have just hurt himself, end of story. It has to be some extreme disease manifesting itself in some way that is affecting his walking. Thank goodness after being down and out for 36 hours, he stood up and walked. Of course at that point, I had taken him to the doctor, reached out to almost everyone I could think of that might know, had an entire set of x-rays and went to a place so dark. Was all that really necessary???
At first I was slightly aggravated with the patient. Did we really have to go through all of that?!?!  But then it occurred to me that the person I should really be aggravated with was myself. Of course it is extremely disheartening to watch your child unable to walk but did I really need to go to that dark, ugly place?!?  And for that, I only have myself to blame. 
My aunt recently mentioned the analogy of a swinging door. Yucky thoughts come in, only to be pushed right back out. It would be an unrealistic expectation to think that I’d not have any ugly thoughts (after all I come from a long line of neurotic people). But to let these ugly thoughts monopolize my brain power or energy, is detrimental to my well being.  
I have always thought of myself as a person with a strong will. I frequently blame myself (what else is new?!?) for being the hereditary reason my children are so strong willed. Yet I can’t seem to will myself to not allow these negative thoughts to fester. I can’t seem to not panic at the mere sight of my child unable to walk.   There are always going to be things that happen, that’s life. My ability to process it and keep it in its proper perspective is what really matters. 
This time we survived it, he’s walking and all is well. But what happens if, G-d forbid, something bad really does happen?  Will I be able to handle it when I can barely handle a scare?  Hopefully I’ll never truly be tested but in the meantime I’m going to try the whole swinging door exercise. 


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