Sometimes I get hit. Not physically (thought it might as well be) but emotionally and mentally. It happens when least expected, at the most unlikely times. I've tried to anticipate getting hit but that doesn't work. I simply have to accept that no matter what I do, no matter how positive I train my thoughts to be, I will get hit.
I believe anyone who've been through, or are going through, something traumatic have experienced this phenomenon. You're going about your day doing your normal routine when BAM! out of nowhere something reminds you of everything you've been through, are still going through. It hits you. And you have to sit down, cry, and/or experience the rage that flows through you with such strength that you feel out of breath. I had a lot of "hits" in the beginning, when it was all new with Morgan. I would see a typical 6 month old out in public and be reminded of how non-typical my girl is. And it hits me. Call me over-emotional but there is nothing else to do but feel it. The pain of not having a healthy typical daughter, the moments of flashback over all the scary situations we've lived through thus far, the scary moments still to come. And knowing, inevitably, they will come. And I cry. Anything could set it off. Anything could cause the hit.
As time goes on, I've noticed the hits not coming as frequently. It's been at least a month since I've been hit with anything. It helps that I'm growing into this life, becoming a little better at navigating the situation as time goes on. Morgan's challenges are simply woven into our daily lives. No big deal. Right.
Except when it is.
I didn't know how rough this last week was going to be. I got hit a lot. I was watching a special on PBS about Brain Consciousness and thoroughly enjoying it till the EEG. They began an EEG to show the brain's activity in sleep. They showed him wearing the scanners, then they showed the EEG read-out. And that's all it took. In my mind's eye flashed all of Morgan's EEGs, her seizures, her brain MRI and I lost it. I had to turn off the show and walk out onto the deck into the chilly night air. Weeping, I kept thinking "This really hurts, and this is really silly. I need to get a grip." I couldn't watch the rest of the show.
The hits didn't stop there. Morgan had an appointment with her Pediatrician the next day and it was a rough one. Rough because we went over her Care Plan for the following year. We covered every aspect of her care, what specialists she will need to follow-up with, what tests will need to be done, different therapies and what ones we would need to add on. And we will need to get her a wheelchair down the road.
A hard appointment. Life with Morgan isn't bad when you take things a day at a time, one step at a time. But backing up and looking at the big picture is overwhelming, scary. A LOT to take in. Too much. I got through the appointment but wasn't doing very well by the time we reached the car. The tears came and really there was nothing I could do about it. There is no choice but to feel it. Feel all of it.
Morgan is doing very well health-wise, her seizures are under control, no major illnesses at the moment. So really a good appointment in that regard. It's just hard to look at the big picture.
I feel pretty good today. Not overwhelmed and pretty happy with the way things are. Back to taking it one step at a time and smiling where I can. It's such a strange way to live, knowing that I will inevitably get hit again.