Who Am I?
I was born by Cesarean section after my mother endured a traumatic labor of 52 hours. As preposterous as this sounds, it was confirmed on my birth certificate. The doctor who rescued me from midwives predicted that I would struggle throughout life because of the stress. I had vision and hearing troubles early on. I was slow in comprehension and memory. I struggled with confusion between reality and imagination. I had a heart murmur. But eventually I grew stronger and smarter. I quickly began gaining weight at puberty and never stopped, and developed asthma that was never treated. I got my GED instead of graduating, and I never finished college. My dream of being a famous doctor was dashed when I couldn’t master prime factors. While battling debilitating migraines, I rotated through a handful of ungrateful suitors, until I found the love of my life who accepted my marshmallow form and crazy mood swings. We celebrate our 25th anniversary this year.
During the time in between, I struggled being a Christian in public school where everyone else’s rights were more important than mine. I felt alone and abandoned that there was no one else like me. All my shortcomings and failures seemed center stage, even among relatives. I was diagnosed with depression at 16, anxiety at 19, polycystic ovaries at 25, miscarried at 27, first child at 28, bipolar at 30, second child at 32, suicidal at 33, diabetic and third child at 34, and he was diagnosed with Cerebral palsy. I had my fourth child at 36 and miscarried again at 37. My youngest son was diagnosed on the same day with Type 1 Diabetes at eleven months old and nearly died. My oldest daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes a year later at nine years old. We began homeschooling that year after she got out of the hospital with a virtual school.
The following year my second son began home schooling and the same year I lost my father to Parkinson’s and diabetes. The year after that my third son started homeschooling. The next year my husband sustained a head injury and became disabled. Within the following five years, my oldest son was diagnosed with ADD, I developed GERDs and high blood pressure. I was diagnosed with Spectrum Bipolar with mild epilepsy. All the medications led to a metabolic shutdown and six years ago I developed lymphedema. Last year I was diagnosed with gout and now I’m hobbling about with a cane and applying for disability, while homes schooling my youngest two sons. The older one graduates from high school this year. The oldest kids graduated from high school a few years before, but COVID delayed their college plans. Then their medical issues interrupted their career plans.
Sometimes life seems hopeless. Sometimes I want to just cease to exist. But then an amazing thing happens. I begin seeing my children’s smiling faces, hearing their sweet voices and a stirring in my heart inspires me to get up and face the day. They are my jewels. And they are the reason God gave me life, so that they may live for Him.