Thursday, April 11, 2013

Issues with Updates

Real life has really caught up with me recently.  The fragment sentence version is, "Two ER trips, four day hospital stay, heavy eyelids and shoulders."  That sounds like a haiku.  And I've wrestled with how to write about it all.  I've thought about not writing about it at all.  However, I keep coming back to my need to process, which I do best at a keyboard, or with a pen, or on this screen. 

The problem is that I don't do updates well, especially when they are tough ones.  I have a hard time knowing where to start, how much to share, and when to post when we're still in the thick of it all.  And I'll admit that sometimes I get a little whiny when I update.  Sometimes I feel the urge to complain, or feel sorry for myself, my daughter, my life.  Or I go the opposite direction and paint the rosiest "everything is just fine" picture I can muster.  I hear this little voice of conscience pinging in my head that things could be worse when I start to complain, or that I'm not being entirely honest when I say that life is easy peasy.  I want posts like this to help me move forward, not continue to stew.  I want an update post to help me relax the white knuckle grip I've been using to hold on to dear life.  And my hope is that something in these posts, any post, anything that I write, might touch a nerve of truth in any of you along for the journey.  That's the incredible thing about sharing life with others, isn't it?  We are not living the same scenario, but we can walk this road together if we are willing to let others come alongside us.

This morning I got a very sweet email from a person I don't know who found this blog while she was pregnant.  She thanked me for helping to calm her fears as she awaited the arrival of her daughter last fall.  It's a message that I am familiar with because I sent similar words to Jill, Kristen, and Lisa.  Women who are now dear friends.  But three years ago they were complete strangers, and I was carrying around the heavy burden of a strange word and new world called hydrocephalus.  I have thanked these women many times for sharing their stories with strangers.  They were/are a gift of hope and peace and examples of perseverance and joy.  And I am so thankful to walk this journey with them and the rest of my crew (that's you, readers).  

How's that for verbal processing?  There isn't even room for an update now.  But it's coming.  In fact, I've already written it.  Sometimes we need a good prologue to share the truth of the story to come.