Life is hard post transplant. I'm not going to lie. Really hard. By far the hardest thing I've ever done physically, emotionally and spiritually.
They try to prepare you, but I now know that they really can't.
My body is feeble and weak. My hands shake, my once strong muscles quiver when I attempt to walk. Eating and drinking prove to be incredibly difficult. Even painful at times. Nausea is always a constant battle raging inside of me. And why sleeping is so hard I'll never understand, because I always feel so tired.
I find that sometimes (like right now) it feels necessary to just let the tears run constantly down my cheeks. I cry a lot. I don't know why being in this state makes me so emotional, but boy does it ever! Maybe because I do so little and think so much.
Too much maybe.
You have to be careful in your head. If the bad thoughts come in, you cant give them a place to stay.
What I have to do is acknowledge that I feel them. Then I can usually let them go.
Scary thoughts. Intense things that are often hard to say. Thoughts of death. Questions. Is my body fighting to live...or trying to tell me enough is enough? Can I really do this? Will this ever end?
I even sometimes have to vocalize them to my husband (bless his soul) and then once they leave my lips I often realize the truth.
Here are my truths.
I am fighting to live. Not for me. For my husband. My Jess. The love of my life. He has worked so hard to literally save my life. Raising money, taking over all the cooking and cleaning on top of his full time job. And then he still finds time to love on the kids and spend precious time with me. He always makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world no matter what. I know he loves me. He is one of my greatest treasures. I could write forever about him.
I am fighting for my kids. Over 3 years of their young lives have been eaten up by mommy being sick and often unavailable to them. Many people have stepped up and helped us care for them, but the guilt I feel is still there. I have to push it away often because it is out of my control. The kids deserve to have mom. I will do everything in my power for them. They were 3, 5, 7 and 9 when I was diagnosed. They are now 6, 8, 10 and 12! It has been so long.
Spiritually I have grown. I have more to learn, but being knocked down so hard really makes you look at what you really believe. My Heavenly Father loves me and has not forgotten me and my family. I am always striving to put my trust in Him and my Savior, Jesus Christ. Christ suffered and died for us and I know that he knows my pain. He knows my anguish in my darkest moments. He will be there to comfort me, and my family, if I just have faith.
And I can do this...even if it never ends. I have gotten this far and I am way to stubborn to stop now.
|My lil sis|
I have really learned to love life. The small things...because really, they aren't really small after all. It's the small moments that can matter most.
When I am strong and healthy one day (and it will happen)...this will be an experience that will help me always keep my life in perspective.
This post was really for me. I needed to just write. Just to cry and write.
Writing these things really help me to strengthen my resolve and fortify inside of me exactly what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. To kind of prove to myself what I believe and the things I know deep inside.
It helps to push away the doubt.
I'm grateful to be able to express myself. Thank you.
|Shaving the dome...again.|