No Burden Too Great

‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ (Matt 25:40)

Let me start out this post with a thank you. To our family, friends, good folk at our Church, and all those who are walking through these difficult days with us. Our days begin and our nights end with prayers of thanksgiving for your kindness and generosity. You have been Christ to us and seen Christ in us. You didn't wait until everything fell apart to run to our aid.  You came quietly and without show at the first sign of our struggle. You took care of us and helped us stay steady. You have been a light in dark nights of confusion and fear. May God bless all of you!

As some of you know, we've had a tumultuous few months. Without warning my husband's shop closed. I won't go into details, but this was a real blow as he had dreamed of a career and long future with this company. Within 24 hours he had secured a new position, but that only lasted for a short time as his health fell apart in the aftermath. For the last little while he has been without a job, struggling to find peace of mind.

What started as a search for the right job, became a struggle with increasing anxiety and depression. This week he was formally diagnosed with moderate to severe depression and told he has to take time away from his job search. As a man who prides himself on his ability to provide for our large family, these are trying days. I am doing my best to remind him every day that he needs to take care of himself and once he's stronger we'll move forward.

In all of this, he has held on to his faith. Every challenge is met with the mantra "Jesus, I trust in you!". He has been open about his struggles and is doing his best to shine a light on the pain of depression. He is so aware of his blessings and still thanks God for all of them, even if his brain is keeping him from enjoying them. We are working hard getting him all the help he needs.

My husband is proof that no burden is so great that it cannot be placed at the foot of the Cross. While there are still times of intense suffering, all suffering can be made more bearable when we unite ourselves with Christ. The greatest hope comes in knowing that the Cross of Christ leads to victory.  My solace is in knowing that we can be like Simon of Cyrene, helping those around us bear the burden of their cross. There is no burden too great when you have the hands of many others lifting you up.

A Long Year

It's hard to believe it, but my baby is going to have his first birthday at the end of the month. It has been a joyful, wild, and at times difficult year. He has been a source of constant delight to our whole family. The darling of his brothers and sisters, he is full of smiles at almost all times. He seems days away from starting to walk, although I suspect like his older brother he will wait as long as possible to actually take his steps without a walker. My baby, if I can still call him that, spends most of his day getting into mischief and tearing around the main level with the help of a variety of walking devices and anything he can stand upright with and push for a distance. Just the other day he stood up and pushed the kids' little table clear across the room. We're constantly having to pull things up out of his long reach. A delightful conundrum to see him so mobile and curious.

During the first year of his sweet life, the greater life of our family has been turned on its ear. Our usual routine has changed dramatically and certain things, like our housework, have fallen completely apart. Our once moderately untidy home seems almost beyond reprieve. We're still co-sleeping (a first for us for this length of time) so his nursery has become the de facto storage room (that and every other closet, empty corner and flat surface). Our project will be to re-claim that, hopefully before his first birthday. Already this week we've re-organized the girls' room, adding back in the dressers we left out when we moved into our townhouse. We did that primarily to keep the kids from tossing all their clothes on the floor. With their bunk bed and newer laminate flooring their room looks brand new. All it needs is a coat of paint and baseboards to complete the effect. Next on our list is to re-organize baby boy's room so we can slowly get him in his crib. We want him used to sleeping in the crib before we move it down the hall to his brothers' room. That'll happen once we lay the new laminate in there and set up their bunk bed. Another year of big changes ahead.

Not to say that all the changes are due to our wee baby boy. Although his birth caused the usually fog of exhaustion, that wore off somewhere around the 4 month mark. While we were dealing with new baby love, my husband has been doing battle with his chronic illnesses (diabetes and gastroparesis). Of late he's been fighting the most persistent and long lasting case of cellulitis in his leg. Poor man works so blessed hard for us, and despite all the setbacks his health causes, he can't be kept down. God continues to bless us and we're fighting hard to keep our joy. The other reason for our topsy turvy year has been my Mom's terminal cancer diagnosis. She is daily doing battle for her health and despite an early prognosis of only a few months, she has been steadily improving her health and her prognosis. It has reminded our little family how precious every day is with our loved ones. We have been trying to spend two or more days a week visiting her, providing as much entertainment as exhaustion I suspect. The bonus has been of course more time with my Dad and brother (beloved and doting Uncle). The kids are being blessed with lots of fond memories they can treasure for their whole life.

What should have brought our family down has been a season of miracles, both big and small. God only knows what the second year of our baby's life will bring, but I trust in His mercy. He is good, and while circumstances may not always seem bright, I feel His loving care surrounds our family, protecting us.

Chronic Lifestyle

We are living what I would call the Chronic Lifestyle. Basically, many of our daily choices revolve around the limitations and requirements of the chronic illnesses of my husband. We are trying to live this lifestyle with joy, with varying success. Outings, finances, meals, daily schedule revolve around his needs as much as around our five beautiful children.

So how does our day typically look? We get up at the crack of dawn so he can do all his tests and take all his medications. While he's out walking the dog, I make a simple breakfast of peanut butter on toast that I pray he can digest and a drink with a special kind of laxative stirred in. The laxative isn't meant for daily use, but the alternative is a rock hard stomach full of food that won't digest. Then he takes a sandwich and a few snacks (nothing fibre dense as it binds, which rules out pretty much all fruit) for lunch and heads to work for the day. He checks to make sure he has change for some kind of liquid sugar in case his blood sugar plummets (a rare but vicious reality as he spends most of his time with high blood sugars). At work, he always makes sure to station himself close to a bathroom in case his stomach can't handle the sandwich he had for lunch and he has to vomit. For a man who loves to eat, I suspect this must be the most brutal part. Every bite of food he eats is a calculated risk. Will this stay down? Will his stomach bloat so much it presses on other organs, causing shooting pain? While he is at work, we maintain our usually routine, having protein dense meals (which he can't eat) in his absence. I try to devise a meal that everyone can eat, but lately I've been serving the kids a meal before he gets home so they can have more of the protein and fibre he simply can't digest. After they've gone to bed, he has his own supper of soup, usually from a can. I negotiate labels for lower sodium, no whole grains, no chunks of meat, no cruciferous vegetables. Usually a pureed soup or the rare soup with rice. We go to bed as early as we can so he has the energy to face the next day.

Every month he has a myriad of specialist appointments. There's the doctor who is treating his diabetic retinopathy, his endochrinologist, his gastrointestinal specialist, the diabetic clinic, not to mention the frequent visits to our family doctor for refills of the panoply of medications that keep him barely functioning. There are all the blood requisitions, scopes, EKGs, eye tests, and more. Scarcely a week goes by when he isn't rushing back and forth to another appointment. Even at his appointments, he's answering work emails and fielding calls to make sure his absence doesn't cause problems. Waiting rooms become a satellite office so as little time as possible is lost. Every extra dollar is counted not just to pay all our regular bills, but to make sure we have enough for the co-pay on the various prescriptions he needs to survive.

For all the daily suffering he endures, he maintains a rich spiritual life. I find his devotion and prayer life inspiring. My own St. Joseph, enduring whatever must be endured so I can concentrate on the business of mothering our gifts from God. I know there are days when it's all too much, but still he picks himself up and keeps going. He doesn't have much energy, but what he has he devotes to our kids. When he is with them, he does his best to be their loving, silly, playful Daddy. He tucks them in at night, reads to them, sings to them. Even though I can see the lines of pain and exhaustion straining his face, he covers over all of it with a genuine smile as he soaks in their exuberance and love. Even if the rest of his life is spent just like it is right now, I know his legacy with our kids with be one of love and fun. He may never be "better", but to them he will always be Daddy. Not "my Daddy, who is very sick" or "my Daddy, who is too tired to play", just... Daddy.