Down for the count.

Just before the advent of Thaniel, I was training for a figure competition. Kind of like a bodybuilding competition but less muscle-ey and more bikini-ey.  I did two a day work-outs, weighed my meals, Ran, stressed over poses, worked out some more, fretted over lifts and reps and revelled in the power I felt in the gym, in my body and in the control I had over shaping it all. I was winning. My coach was pleased. And then the stick turned blue.

As soon as the ultrasound tech and the midwives confirmed that Thaniel was outside the norm, I began to research. I understood he may be born early (and given that my last two babies were a month early it seemed likely) I knew low birth weights were a factor in all kinds of issues and so I ate. And ate. And ate. I gained 80 lbs with him, kept him in the 85th percentile throughout the last half of his pregnancy and at 6 weeks early he weighed a whopping 6lbs8ozs. I’d done it!

However, I’d done something else.

I’d gained an entire person in extra weight that didn’t leave when he entered the world.

I let it go at first, because I believe life and birth are tantamount to everything else. I gave myself the year to nurse him and be the mom and be soft and relaxed. But then when I weaned him I began to turn my eyes toward ‘getting back into shape’ .

I’ve lost 30 lbs so far. And a lot of opportunities to ‘enjoy’. I’ve denied and passed up and felt bad about every ‘failure’ since I began to diet. And today I’m wondering if what I’m doing has merit. Will it be enough? Will I ever be satisfied? Who gets to say when I’m done?

Don’t get me wrong. Fit and healthy is awesome. I need to be fit to handle the future Thaniel and I have together. But am I expecting beach body glam when I should be aiming for play date darling?  Is it vital that I’m a size four or can I just feel fabulous now?  A pound from now?, a size from there?

I have to be honest, a lot of my ‘person’ is tied to my looks and how I view them (even tho I’d love to not be that shallow) and so I won’t lie and say that I can do sweat pants and ponytails and be ok. And I love to box.. I mean I LOVE boxing and you can’t do it without a certain level of fit-ness. But do I need to be ready for the golden gloves? or can I stop mid class and take a breather?   How good is ‘good enough’?  For a praise and glory hog,  self admitted people pleaser and affirmation needer ,that’s a tough question.

may 046

Thaniel needs hearing aids, maybe surgery, maybe implants, and this whole last week I hover on the brink of tears.  I had to leave devotions yesterday morning before I dissolved into buckets of unshed grief-stricken blubbery sobs. The message was on asking for help, for getting the prayer we need, on coming boldly to the throne..chutzpah. I didn’t/don’t have that right now.

Mrs.Farrow…I’m nebbish.

Am I sad about his hearing? … yes, but the doctors are fairly sure the damage can be reversed.

I am bent double over the fact that I knew something was wrong and in an effort to not be ‘that mom’, I allowed my head to be patted and my fears to be shelved and I did NOTHING.   I took him to the audiologist and was ok with the “wait and see” we got.  I had him seen by family doctor and pediatrician and swallowed the uneasy feeling when I heard the reassurances given.

Now “hear” we are.

I was not good enough as his mom and I let this rather large ball drop.

If you were telling me this story, I’d serve you up all of the phrases we reserve for just this time. “you are doing the best you can” , ” It’ll be ok” ,”You can’t do it all” and others. But we don’t receive them unless we believe them, and I don’t believe them.

Just like I don’t believe I’m ok at a size 8.   How good is ‘good enough?’

The bible has an answer for that. It says there’s no such thing as “good enough”. That we’ve all fallen short, we all miss the mark, and even the good we think we posses is ‘filthy rags’ compared to God’s goodness. And there’s where I’m hiding. In God’s goodness. In God’s strength. In His ability to take the wasted and the broken and the weak and make it beautiful, make it right, make it whole. And I do believe that!  Lord, heal my unbelief.

I am not a size 4, I’m not a perfect mom, and I can’t back up when I punch… God and my coach both know.  And if you pass me this week and I look a little teary, please ignore it.  Failure cripples me, but God heals me, so I’m fairly sure I’ll be fine in no time. Perhaps like Thaniels ears, there is a chance for complete healing.

BTW’s if you haven’t done it already.. get your wee ones hearing checked.  And double checked! (haha).   I’m pretty much loving the E.N.T  (ear nose and throat) doctor who caught this now and set off all the alarms.

Call in your area for hearing clinics, most infant hearing tests are covered.

Thank you, Dr.Riddell.. as well as The Orangeville Hearing Clinic -http://www.hearingclinic.ca/

2 thoughts on “Down for the count.

  1. Another beautifully written piece from the heart! You’re a size EIGHT?! I can’t even remember the last time I was a size EIGHT!! And you’re taller than me, so I would say that size EIGHT is a perfect size for you 🙂 As for Thaniel’s hearing, you took all the appropriate steps, went to the ‘right’ doctors, had the ‘right’ tests done and guess what? Those PEOPLE FAILED YOU!! YOU did not fail — the health system and those in it failed, miserably. Now you can look forward to Thaniel having probable reversible hearing loss, and at the very worst, a cochlear implant to help him hear your soothing voice in song, in prayer, in love, in awe. I wish that all the moms-to-be I see at the clinic would be as good a mom as you have been to your children! Carry On and Stay Strong — in the Lord! 😀 YOU ROCK!!

    Like

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