I am the wife of a very talented musician who takes me around the world in pursuit of excellence. Mama to Jakob, Audrey and Ella, who just happens to have Down Syndrome.
And an aspiring disciple of Jesus, defender of the oppressed, writer, graphic designer and photographer.
I write and speak on navigating through the fog of life…you know, when things don’t go exactly as planned and am fuelled by a passion to amplify the voices of those on the margins…
oh, and coffee…lots of coffee.
Four o’clock pm. The click of the clock in a sterile room. The Song of Good Hope. Darkness descending and nothing but me, my computer, the voices in my head and time to try and articulate all the thoughts, feelings and tensions that have surrounded the understated transition from end to beginning.
Let’s first talk about the end. While I was not as bitterly gay to leave 2014 behind us as I was 2013, I can’t say 2014 was a particularly good year. We continued to live in limbo – constantly on the brink of change in a life that never changes and as 2014 drew to a close I whiplashed between optimistic hope and devastating feelings of regret, confusion and despair. I wept. I wept for the things I have left behind and fear of the future – not the way I usually like to ring in a New Year, but there you have it.
The next morning I struggled to get out of bed. I wasn’t convinced that I was ready to begin a new year. What if this year was just like the last two. Was I really ready to face that? Again? Still.
The day crawled on. But children have a way of drawing out any energy left in the crevices and forcing you to put away your pity party décor and buck up. So we went to the Lego store…and I felt better.
In the evening, we went to my mom’s for a low key dinner where I went through baby clothes to take home and launder…which involved carrying plastic tubs of clothes up from the basement (mistake #1). When we got home, Ben went quickly to bed with a headache and I got to work on our Christmas tree, taking off each delicate decoration off the brittle dry branches. I had heard of a family whose house had burnt down from a Christmas tree fire and naturally had it in my head that I needed to get that fire hazard out my house ASAP. It had lost any limber it once had and I stood with it where I could not get it through the doorframe, thinking, “I should probably get Ben to help me with this…but he’s sleeping…I’ll just do it by myself.” (mistake #2)
The good news: I got the tree onto the porch safely away from my electric sockets.
The bad news: I may have disregarded the “no heavy lifting” part of my doctor’s instructions.
Around 10 pm, I started to bleed. I was given explicit instructions that if there was any sign of blood, I was to go to the hospital, so I hopped in the car and drove myself over to Women’s hospital where I was then admitted…sigh.
Who knew? Thus ended day one of 2015.
Exciting isn’t it. I wish I could say the same for the sterile hospital room I found myself in for the next two days. I will say, however that the whole experience gave me plenty of time to think about how I was going to make it through the next year, or at least the next week, day, hour. Give me some time, and I’d love to share some of these thoughts with you.
I am the wife of a very talented musician who takes me around the world in pursuit of excellence. Mama to Jakob, Audrey and Ella, who just happens to have Down Syndrome.
And an aspiring disciple of Jesus, defender of the oppressed, writer, graphic designer and photographer.
I write and speak on navigating through the fog of life…you know, when things don’t go exactly as planned and am fuelled by a passion to amplify the voices of those on the margins…
oh, and coffee…lots of coffee.
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