Advocacy

My oldest spent the day yesterday being sick to his stomach and sleeping, so I stayed home from church with him and thought I would put my time to good use while it was quiet.

I am the oldest of six kids. You know all those stereotypes about the oldest child...? They are totally false. OK, I'm lying. They are actually quite accurate for me... I'm sure my siblings would agree.

I have always been very independent and responsible. I often helped with my younger siblings. My parents bought a house that had to be completely gutted and remodeled. So when my parents went to work on the house in the evenings and on weekends. I stayed home and watched siblings most of the time. When my youngest sister was born, I was 15. I mothered her enough that the poor kid called both me and my mom mom for a while. And I remember one at least one occasion, talking loudly about going to find mom because of the dirty looks I got from people thinking I was a teenage mother. I often babysat for other people to earn money. I was good at it. I prided myself on being able to make even the grumpiest kid into my friend eventually.

I grew up wanting to be a mom. I sure thought that with my experiences, motherhood was going to be so easy... but that's for another post. I grew up wanting to be a teacher. I went to college knowing that I was going to get my education degree. I was a Resident Assistant in college. I got help new freshman while helping myself at the same time. It was great. A lot of my choices in life have been centered around helping other people. Not to say that I am never selfish, but reaching out to others has been an intrinsic part of me.

I graduated in elementary education and taught school for two years until I had my oldest son and choose to be a stay-at-home mom. Over the next 8 years, I had 4 more little boys to reach out to and to care for. Along the way we also began to find out and realize my oldest son has special needs. For the most part, nothing in the special needs world comes easily.

Over the course of these 8 years, I was doing what I thought I always wanted to do... be a mom and raise my family. But I had lost myself. I had lost myself to depression and anxiety (pregnancy and postpartum hormones compound the problem 10 fold.) I had become mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted with life with 5 small little boys. I had become mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted trying to figure out all the details of my oldest son's needs and how to meet those. It was overwhelming. I could find happiness and even joy at times, but it was fleeting. I was like a young child trying to catch a butterfly, so close, yet so far. I was lacking focus and purpose.

Though my life hasn't changed in huge ways. I'm noticing a shift occurring. I'm not sure exactly when it began, but I know God has slowly been setting things into place and changing me, to get me to this point where I'm seeing the shift, and I'm ready to change with it.

Over the course of the last couple of years, I've started to learn to be more comfortable with my reality. To learn that I don't need to hide the hard parts of my life. And as I've been more honest and more open, it's given others permission to do the same. I've been able to help some of my siblings, a friend of a friend, a dear close friend, an old college friend, and maybe others with finding help with their anxiety and depression. I've been able to offer advice and experience when it comes to meeting the special needs of a child. I've started trying to expand my vision of how I can be helpful and useful. This blog is the result of that. I've also decided to take a leap of faith and try something else new, but you'll hear more about that later.

I'm still a stay-at-home mom with small children. I am still a perfectionist struggling with anxiety and depression. I am still just me. It's still overwhelming. The doubts, fears, and insecurities still plague me, but I'm ready. I'm ready to set them to the side and step out into the unknown. Not because I am brave and my fears are disappearing, but in spite of them. I'm ready to move forward. Because the vision of who I am supposed to be is coming into focus. From the beginning, God has been laying the pieces of me and of my life into place... Here a little. There a little. I am finding my purpose in the life I have and in the life I want to create. I am meant to be honest and real and to help people to the best of my abilities. And hopefully, with God's help, to help others beyond my own capabilities.

I am meant to help my children. I am meant to help my family and other families wade through the hard parts of special needs. I am meant to help open up the difficult discussions of mental health and our imperfections in this life. I meant to be me. ALL of me. And I am meant to help others on their journey as I continue to wade through mine. I am meant to have a purpose and to fulfill it. I am meant to be an advocate.