I loved being a stay at home mom!
It wasn't always easy but I got to hear the first laugh and first
words of all my children. We played games and had indoor picnics in
the den on rainy days. We spread blankets in the grass to watch the
clouds roll by and figure out the shapes. We read lots and lots of
books. We watched movies. We danced around the house to any music
that struck our fancy. Dallas was great at interpretive dance. We
played chase in the long hallway with the dogs. We built blanket
forts in the play room. We sang songs, all the time, and we prayed
together.
Showing them love and kindness came
easy. Teaching them to appreciate the small and everyday things we
usually take for granted was a joy. Letting them know they matter to
me and our family, that they are each an important part happened in
our conversations, prayers and hugs; at least I hope they
understood. I always thought setting a good example, spending
time and listening to them were some of the ways to show my kids I
love them. I love my children and told them so every day I still do.
As my children grew older and began
forming their own ideas of the world, the challenge grew too.
The questions and answers became more complicated. I did however try
to shield them from some of the harder issues of life when they
were still very young, like just how advanced Madison's condition
was. Mark and I knew pretty early that she had a more severe
case of Marfan syndrome. We also thought that if we followed what the
doctors said and educated ourselves, Madison would live much longer
than she did. The National Marfan Foundation while being a
great source of information also lead me to think that she could live
a close to normal life and span. Mark and I thought we were
doing everything right. She had made all of her doctor
appointments and took all of her medicine as directed and no
strenuous exercise. We took care of her as best we knew how.
At some point in high school Derric
knew Madison's case was severe. We talked about Marfan syndrome
in front of the kids and with the kids, but kept the most detailed
conversations away from them. We also answered all their questions in
ways that wouldn't scare them. The last two times she was in the
hospital, December 2008 and March 2009, I began to more seriously
focus on letting Dallas know that her sister was quite sick and
fragile. I thought she understood and maybe she did for a
little while but there were times when I believe she forgot or wasn't
sure what to make of what I was telling her. It's hard to hear
at the age of twelve that your sister is very sick and almost died.
It's a difficult concept to grasp about someone you love at any age.
When we suddenly lost her October 9,
2009, even though we knew she was fragile it was a complete shock. We
still believed if we just kept doing everything the doctors said to
do Madison would be okay. I guess we got our kids to think that way
too, because when it all went wrong Derric and Dallas stopped
believing in amost everything they used to and for a while I did too. I
was mad at God for not answering my prayers. I wondered what I had
done so wrong that my child suffered for so long without physical
healing. Before we lost Madison I prayed all the time for her
healing and gave thanks. Many weeks after she died I realized that
sometimes the answer is “no.” My prayer had been answered, I
just didn't get the answer I wanted.
I tried to continue going through the
motions of daily life and going to church. I even forced Dallas
to come with me. I thought if I just kept everything "normal"
or as close to the same routine as possible we could get through that
difficult time and remain close. I don't know what I was
thinking. I was not in my right mind. I went through the
motions of everyday life, get Dallas off to school, laundry, dishes,
grocery, cook. I did it all like a zombie or crying
uncontrollably. There was no normal. Then I gave up. The
house was so incredibly quiet, no laughter or bickering between the
girls. There was no talking or not much at all between any of us.
I stopped trying, I stopped going to church and only did what was
absolutely necessary. After almost three years of wallowing in
depression I decided to get a part time job to force myself out into
the world; it helped.
I found my way back to church
eventually and with a more relaxed attitude. I'm better but not
whole, there will always be someone missing from the equation of my
life. I no longer walk through life like a zombie and I hope my
children don't think I forgot about them during those days. I know I wasn't the best mother during those first couple of years. We all did the best we could to survive; but I believe we are moving in a more positive direction now. My children are each an important part of our family and loved immensely.
Their well being is what got me out of bed every day. They are
the reason I didn't stay in my pajamas and in bed every day.
Hopefully I can still teach them a few things even though they are
adults now. As I get older I find more and more they are
teaching me; and I am thankful for that. They are a true blessing to
my life!
