I used to think it was hard to be a mom.
Let me rephrase that.
I used to think it was hard to be a mom of three kids.
Let me rephrase that again.
I used to think it was hard to be a mom of three kids under age 5.
I need another crack at this.
I used to think it was hard to be a mom of three kids under age 5, with the one-and-a-half-year-old having a progressive neuromuscular disease.
Nope, still not quite right.
I used to think it was hard to be a mom of three kids under age 5, with the one-and-a-half-year-old having a terminal progressive neuromuscular disease, with no treatment or cure.
Ok, this is it, I promise…
It is so incredibly hard to be a mom of three kids under age 5, with the one-and-a-half-year-old having a terminal progressive neuromuscular disease, with no treatment or cure, and a broken arm.
There that's it. What I just mentioned above is so far beyond what I ever imagined "hard" to be.
And I wonder, will it EVER get easier?
Judging by the pattern so far, it has only gotten harder as time has gone by. Much harder.
Ella is getting bigger. It continues to be harder to carry and hold her. It continues to be harder for her to support herself.
Ella is getting older. It continues to get harder to entertain her mind, when her body won't cooperate.
Not one day goes by where I don't think, "I can't do this."
Every day I wonder if I'll be able to do this for the rest of my life, or at least, the rest of hers (and that thought makes me sick).
Is it ever going to stop getting harder? Will I ever get used to this??
