Recently, because of the cast on my leg and the PICC line in my arm, I've been limited to baths -- with my right arm wrapped in plastic and my left leg hanging out of the tub. Needless to say, washing myself has been an interesting experience as of late. Yesterday, I'd finally had it! My PICC was pulled Saturday so, minus one ball and chain (the other, my cast, should be off next week) I was feeling rather spry. I wrapped my cast up good and tight and told Adam I'M TAKING A SHOWER!
In my entire lifetime, I have never experienced such a wonderful shower. It was pure bliss I tell you! I let the warm water pound my back, my chest, my face; I took a deep breath and felt the humid air enter my lungs, enjoying every second. As I stood there in the downpour, I started thinking about the past several weeks and, to my surprise, I began crying.
I've been a little down lately. I've been feeling very inadequate and I've been pretty hard on myself for my inability to conquer even the smallest tasks. Because of that, I've been feeling like a terrible mother and an even worse wife. Last weekend, Adam took care of the girls and let me sleep until almost 1:00 in the afternoon. Do you have any idea how indulgent that felt? On one hand it was so incredibly gratifying (and honestly, my body needed the rest) but on the other hand, the specter of guilt that has been haunting me ever since has me questioning whether or not it was worth it. The added stress of my injury, followed by that surprise hospitalization and at-home tune-up, has been creating a lot of tension in our home and beginning to drive a wedge between Adam and I. We have both been irritable and short of patience, and we've been taking it out on each other. That's not fair, I know, and I've scolded myself time and time again for doing it. But isn't that human nature: to take our crap out on the people we love, the people who deserve it least? Please tell me I'm not the only one who does this...
These frustrations and challenges of mine are valid. They may not be as substantial or as grievous as what others may be dealing with, but they are real. I forget that sometimes it's okay to just cry. As I let go and allowed the tears to come, mixing with the water that fell on my face, I started feeling better... lighter, somehow. I was suddenly overcome with the realization that I'm okay. This time in our lives has been difficult, sure, but I've been through difficult things before. What's more important than the trials themselves are the lessons I've learned by overcoming them.
When the rain passes, after it's washed everything in it's path, the sun inevitably comes out and the world looks a bit greener, a bit more radiant. Standing there under the shower's stream, I was reminded that it's during these storms -- when the skies are dark and our burdens seem heavier to bear -- that faith is most important. It's during these hard times that it becomes necessary to extend perfect trust, knowing that somehow things will work out, and more importantly, that we'll be stronger for having made it through the storm.
I don't know if it was this little experience, the liberation I've felt since being off IV's, or the fact that my sister took Morgan overnight this weekend so Adam and I could have some much needed alone time (thanks again, Teresa) but something has definitely brightened my mood. I woke up this morning feeling bright, refreshed, and fully prepared to take on the day. The thunder is quieting and I can see the clouds starting to clear in the distance. And rather than cursing the recent storm, I now feel a curious sense of appreciation for it's showers.
I needed a good washing.