Being so busy has helped me keep my mind off of my impending surgery. My ballet school performances are coming up in June and this time of year is always stressful for me. Even though I love what I do, making sure everything is ordered, t-shirt designing, programs, costume alterations and then getting through rehearsals and performances, it can be tough to handle, especially when I still have to take care of 4 kids and a husband, insane back pain and then there’s that surgery looming over my head.
I wish I could say I go through each day without crying, but that wouldn’t be true. Every single day I cry about something. This week alone I have cried because I will need Neil’s help putting on my gladiator sandals, not being able to shave my own legs, missing the kids when I am gone in the hospital for 7-10 days, and how dependent Nicky is on me and I on him. Those are just a few. It’s a constant battle for me to keep it together. So many of you have told me how brave and courageous I am, but how is this courageous? Can I be courageous and still ball my eyes out every single day? I don’t know. I guess.
The other night, I had an “Ah ha” moment. Or so I thought. I was awake in bed listening to my husband snore like I do every night, looking through other scoliosis posts on Instagram, and I thought to myself…..I CAN do this. I WILL get through this and I will be STRONG. It was the first time through this whole journey that I actually said those things to myself and believed them. Of course it only lasted 3 minutes before I began to quietly cry myself to sleep, but it happened.
So here it is, another Monday. Another week has come and gone. Another week closer to surgery. We are starting to get all the planning and loose ends taken care of so the transition for the kids is as smooth as possible. That is who I worry about most during this. Yesterday, we began pulling apart the kids closets and play room. We have way too much crap! I was proud of myself though. I was able to donate 4 tubs of my kids clothes. I cried through separating and organizing all of it, reminiscing of what the kids did in that outfit or why there were barf stains on certain ones. It’s hard. Having kids and watching them grow up is fun but also hard. They won’t be little much longer and I feel so bad they have to witness me go through this. I hope someday they remember and feel proud of me for getting through this. Even though somedays I don’t feel strong at all.