Childhoodtake2!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on tired.
Go.

I have MS.
I was diagnosed when I was 23 and yesterday was my 16 year anniversary of getting the call that confirmed my fears.
It has been 16 years.
I can't even say they have been long years
because we have been "lucky".
We caught it early
we got on meds right away
I have setbacks here and there but all in all, we are so "lucky".
Fatigue is my biggest challenge, I am so damn tired.
Mom tired.
CEO tired.
Starting a business tired.
Having a disease that makes me tired tired.

Yesterday was also International Women's Day, is that a coincidence?
A day to celebrate our strength, our grit, our determination.
So let me start by saying I wasn't "lucky".
This is my year of different so let me say, I am good at this.
I fight this.
I battle this.
I look at it in the mirror every day and I tell it to go to hell.
I caught it early because I knew something was wrong.
I advocated for me when they told me nothing was wrong.
I fought for all the tests.
I called every day to find out if there was a cancellation for the MRI, I refused to wait the 5-month time frame.
I got on meds early because I didn't mess around.
People were good to me and opened doors for me because I connect with those that I care about, and people wanted to help me.
I cried in his face telling him I can't do needles anymore, he looked at me and reminded me that I'm strong.
I took the meds every day. I fought and battled all the side effects.
I had the flu every week for three solid years not because I was lucky, but because I was strong.
I had bruises all over my arms and legs for 2 years not because I was lucky, but because I was strong.
I had 2-hour treatments once a month not because I was lucky, but because I was strong.
I lost my hair for 9 months not because I was lucky, but because I was strong.
I did get tired of it, I did want to quit, but I kept going, not because I was lucky, but because I was strong.
I fight fatigue, a tired I cannot explain, not because I am lucky, but because I am strong.
It isn't a silent disease to me, I look at it, I worry about it, I connect symptoms and I battle on.

I did what so many women do, I told tired that it doesn't have a chance here today and I womaned up!

When I am in a yoga class, I take it seriously.
But what you are supposed to do is walk out of class and take the lesson of the work with you.
Me, I always forget, I kind of leave it all on the mat and I walk out feeling good about the work, good about my strength but I forget the lesson.
The one about healing and self-care.
The one about patience and calm.
The one about breathing because I forget to breathe.
The one about taking the time, to find space, to remember that this time is all about just this time.
Stop with yesterday, don't worry about tomorrow, here, we are here.
The one about rooting to rise.
The one about loving yourself first, the one about forgetting about what any of it looks like.
But this morning, the instructor's words brought me to tears.

I am having a month and I am looking down the barrel of another month that is not going to let up.
Everything is stressing me out.
Everything.
Everything right now is stress.
Everything is tight, everything is taking longer, everything is making my jaw clench.
Everything is reminding me that I am not allowed to be human almost anywhere in my life.
I have to keep things together all of the time.
My kids can't see me unravel
my work certainly can't
and so, I cry a lot...quietly and alone and I think about how it's all going to get done, because it always does,
but what is "it" going to do to me in the meantime.
Running through my list is giving this type A a constant headache and I can't let it go.
I am forgetting to breathe.

The one that gets the absolute worst of me is always my person.
The grownup I can't take care of during this time.
The one I have to turn to and dump all of the "others" on and the one that gets the wrath of my destruction.
But this morning, she said that the important parts in relationships are so similar to what is important in yoga and I listened because I needed a reminder of the good in relationships and my inability to function right now.

You extend
you use your back for strength
and you lead with your heart open.

You extend, you don't go inward, you extend out.
You lengthen because you give of yourself to them.
It is when I am most selfish that we hurt.
It is when I am looking only inward that we crumble, because I crumble.

You use your back for strength.
Because we are strong
and we carry others.
In a family, you carry each other.
You hold them up, you use your legs, your arms, your back,
dammit, you use your strength and you carry them to the other side.
It is when I need to be carried that I forget that I too am strong.
It is when I am asking to be picked up that I forget that I still have a back, I still have my power to hold me too.

You show your heart.
It is outward, you cannot protect it because it won't get hurt.
This is your trust, you give your heart out, there is no need to hold it in.
It serves no purpose inward, the heart is meant to shine out to everyone,
but especially your family.

As I walk into this week and the next and the one after that,
I will hold on to this lesson.
I listened today and in that moment, I felt she was talking directly to me.
I listened today because the universe was telling me to listen.
I listened today because I was clearly in a state of panic and those I love were suffering.
I listened and I held the message close walked out of the class and kept repeating it to myself.

Sabrina, extend and stop looking only at you.
Sabrina, remember how strong your back was built.
Sabrina, show your heart and show the world the light you hold and they will, in turn, shine light your way.
Show your heart sweet girl, you have nothing to fear.

What can we do together Anna?
What can we change...together?

Can we change how we define woman.
Can we change the idea that we should be defined by a scale, or a number, or a size, or by wrinkles and marks on our body?

Can we change the idea that we should be defined by time passing, or our past?

Can we change how we define woman?

Can we try and define her by her real beauty?
By what she accomplishes in 24 hours, or a week, or a month, what about a year?

Can we define her by her loves and her joys?
Can we tell the world that she is perfect, even though perfect doesn't exist.
Can we tell them that perfect doesn't have to exist, just leave her, just as she is.
With joy in her heart because if you take that away, you take away her flame.
And you are not allowed to take away her flame.

You have changed how I define me.
You have changed how I look at me, how I talk about myself, you have already changed so much.

You have put scars on my body and wrinkles on my face and worry in my heart.
You have made me soft in the middle, and I no longer care.
Because you have changed how I define me.

With all of the scars, and wrinkles, and added numbers and worry, I have never felt so beautiful and that is because you have given me the title of mother.
You have taught me that it all comes from within us.
You have brought me back to that little girl that I was and you are finding a way to whisper in her ear that she is good enough, she is strong enough, she can trust her strength, she can trust herself.

And, so are you. You are strength and you are gorgeous.

My amazing daughter...
You are most beautiful when you are happy, or not.
You are most beautiful when you are working, or learning.
You are most beautiful when you are running, or sitting, or reading, or active.
You are most beautiful when you are trying, because you always try.
You are most beautiful when you first wake up, and just before bed, and all throughout the day.
You are most beautiful when you are confident and when you are scared.
You are most beautiful when you are with your brother and when you were our one and only.
You are most beautiful when I see you being a good friend and when you are all alone.
You are most beautiful when you can see love on your face and when you don't have any left to give.
You are most beautiful when you are around your father, or me, or anyone.
You are most beautiful.

Thank you my love, for changing everything.
You make me feel like we can continue to change it all, together.

Happy birthday to my first.

There are hard parenting days,
and then there are days that level you and you think,
I was not built for this.
I was not made to tackle this all.
I cannot possibly keep going because I am failing so miserably.
I just don't know how to parent you because
I was not built for this.
(or was I?)

I was not made to be rejected by little people.
I was not made to teach them love.
I was not made to constantly say the same thing, over and over and over again.
I was not made to be patient.
(or was I?)

I was not made to yell.
I was not made to be calm.
I was not made to be always gentle.
(or was I?)

I was not made to be leveled.
I was not made to be torn down.
I was not made strong.
(or was I?)

Was I made to parent you?
Was I built strong to face all of this?
Was what happened in my past part of what I can see in you now?
Is this my karma?
That I can see the importance of childhood,
That I can see and am attracted to the most beautiful of people because I can their glorious light in a way that most do not get?
This is what I was made to do wasn't it?
I was made to see the childhood and beauty in you.
Even on our dark days.

I was made just for this.
I was made to let go of hatred.
I was made to show you love.
I was made to show you gentle and kindness and respect.
I was made to show you strength and hard work.
I was made to show you smiles
I was made to be your hug,
your safe space.
I was made to be your parent,
your love,
your light,
your soul.

I was made for this.

All week long, summer lingered.
The weather was perfect.
It was in the 90s, the sun was strong, warm.
And even though school had started, everything about it felt like summer.
Our last week of training, it was so hot, but it felt just perfect.

And the day we went to pick up our packets, the weather turned,
ugly.
It was cold and all of a sudden, it hit 50 degrees.
In three days, it went from 90 to 80 to 50.
And with the cold, came a cold November rain (even though it was early September).
But that's not where this story starts.

This story starts four months before our race,
when he came to me and asked if I was willing to run my bucket list race this year,
this fall,
four months from now.
After another spring/summer of not feeling well and not being able to run as much as I usually do
and trying to figure out what is wrong with me and why I had to stop every difficult physical thing that I do,
I said yes.
The doctor told me there was nothing structurally wrong with me and so I slowly started yoga again.
The cross training would be better, easier and more gentle on my body.
And so, I needed to learn how to swim, and fast.
I started with calling places to find out if they offer swim lessons
"no, not for my kids, for me. Yes, for adults."

In class, I did not flourish.
It was rough.
Learning to put my face in the water
learning a stroke (just one, just one little stroke)
learning how to breathe
realizing no part of me floats
learning how to kick
learning how to turn my body but keep my head down.
And, I wasn't good.
My instructors knew it
the other people in my class knew it
the two kids who were 10 knew it.
I wasn't good.
But, I kept going.
And even though at the end of the 6 week session, my instructor thought I couldn't swim 200 yards let alone 1/2 a mile, I still went and practiced and worked.

For four months,
we ran and biked and swam.
We tried to do as much as we could together as a family,
there were nights we took it on just one at at time.
Towards the end of the training, we were hitting the road 5 times a week and 4 out of 5 of those times, it was for 1-2 hours.
He worked so hard.
I worked so hard.
It was the first time we did anything like this, together.
It was the first time he did anything like this, period.
And the kids really tried.
Anna kind of understood how crazy important this was and would ride her bike while I ran, would stay in the hitched trailer while we biked and biked for hours on Sunday.
Cole would be my buddy, on the bike, in the stroller.
It was just time consuming.

And the day of the race hung over my head like a ticking time bomb.
Every time someone mentioned it, the swim, tears would stream down my face.
Every time someone mentioned the lake, how was my swimming coming along, I would panic.

But finally, September hit and we headed out to Rochester.
The day before the race, of course the weather changed.
Of course the rain poured down.
Of course the lake looked like it was going to eat me alive.
As we rounded the lake to go pick up our packets, I pulled Cory aside.
"Look at that water.
Look how angry it is right now?
Do you think it's freezing?
It looks so so cold.
I really don't think I am going to make it."

The morning of, we got there so early, it was still very dark, carrying our bikes and helmets and stuff, just stuff.
And as soon as we arrived, they asked us to strip down so they could mark our body with our bib number.
As I was standing there, freezing cold, I started to get it.
They are marking me.
If something happens, this number leads them to my name,
my family.
And so, I asked.
Is this to identify me?
Since she could clearly see the fear, the absolute fear in my eyes and the shake of my voice,
all she could do was nod yes.

I put on my wet suit and I was shaking.
Shaking from the cold
the nerves
the fear
the terror.
And as they called my leg to go into the pen
I turned to him and honestly said goodbye.
Just in case, I needed him to know, I don't regret our life and I love you all.

Getting out of the water, and feeling so accomplished and alive,
heading over to the bikes,
the challenge of all the hills and that damn wind that wouldn't even let you enjoy the downhill
getting a flat for the first time ever in my life
walking miles and miles and miles carrying a bike and watching my time crumble
hugging the mechanic who helped me get back on the road
the smile on Cory's face, you could hear his smile when he talked
knowing he was crossing the finish
seeing my little faces as I was half way through the run
seeing all of them as I crossed
hugging him close and so so proud
he made it
he did it
I made it
we made it.
I thought of you Anna,
I thought of how much fun you have in the water
I thought of how brave you are for always jumping into any class
willing to learn
willing to try
and always having fun.
I thought of your summer swim lessons and the absolute joy you got.
I thought of your six year old strength.
It wasn't the time I wanted.
It wasn't the race I had thought of.
I didn't fail where I thought I would,
but still stumbled and had to shake it off and keep going.
We tri'd
we finished
and we will be tri'ng again!

Thank you This Mama Runs for inspiring us to take on this challenge and try our first triathlon. You are an inspiration to your children and the families out there that are all trying to make it work. #StrongIsTheNewPretty