I have been feeling overwhelmed lately. I can't quite put my finger on the reason why, but its enough to affect me more than I'd like. Today, I feel like it comes down to Evan. Or to raising children in general. I found myself getting very upset with Evan and instantly I feel terrible for having these feelings. On top of that, I've been seeing more information about Angelman Syndrome and not liking it. There have been several deaths this year that I've actually been made aware of instead of being oblivious to. Young Angelman children dying. Some for health reasons. Some from accidents. One child ran behind his grandfather's car as the grandfather was backing out of the driveway. One drowned. One was riding a school bus home from preschool and because there was not an aide on the bus, was found collapsed on the ground by a parent of another child when they got on to get their child off.
In case you are wondering why those three might hit home with me: Evan has found new fun in running across parking lots with no hesitation, even when I just let go of his hand briefly to open the door. Evan loves water. All Angelman children do. The fact that something they find so much joy in caused the death of one hurts my heart. The last one is a little less direct, but more of a horror story that I'd never want to be a part of.
That is overwhelming.
I also came across a conversation on facebook about placing older Angelman children into group homes. It was a long conversation with varying opinions on group homes, microboards, being raised by siblings, etc. I let myself read it for too long and start thinking and worrying about things that have nothing to do with us right NOW. I let myself get overwhelmed.
What else is overwhelming? I use Evan as an excuse a lot. I don't work hard enough to be a good mother to him, or to take care of myself. My laziness thrives on this excuse. Which then affects how I'm a mother to Ryan.
To top it off, I allowed myself to start thinking about wanting more children. It's a beautiful and reassuring thought that we might have more children. But then last week happened and I start telling myself, "how can you expect to have more children when you can't take care of the two you already have." I know I sound overly dramatic and I probably am, but it is an overwhleming feeling and thought right now.
On Sunday, I had a moment that took over after our refreshing drive through the mountains on Saturday. I walked into a meeting and saw the back of an older member of the ward. Her hair is white and was twisted up and held with a big brown barrette and my first thought was: "Mom." And I wanted to be able to go home, curl up on my parents water bed and be reassured, taken care of, helped. Not that Oliver doesn't do those things, but its a little different when coming from your mother. So then I became sad that I don't get to drive a short distance to get that from my parents. That I have to be that to my children and how I really need to improve in that part of my life.
I was just glancing through my old posts and came across a handful that were never actually posted. Two of them connected to Angelman syndrome that didn't have a whole lot in them, just a title and a line or two. But then I came across one that I kind of thought out and wrote a lot on. So I'll actually put those words below, maybe there is someone who can gain some insight from it, or I can glean something from the words myself.
I decided to watch one of the Mormon Messages on lds.org. It was titled Motherhood: An Eternal Partnership with God. It struck me directly at the beginning with the images of raising children. the playing & teaching, and then the added image of tearing the child's finger off the toilet seat with the toilet paper strewn across the ground. It's a beautiful message from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. I also have to give credit to the fathers that are also doing their part in raising their children. Oliver does magnificently in helping to keep our family sane. But what struck me the most was at the end of the shorrt video, Elder Holland quotes a scripture. "Press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope." It made me start to think about that word and phrase. A phrase that I haven't put a lot of thought into recently. What does a "perfect brightness" mean anyway?
I looked up hope. dictionary.com says that the noun is "the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best" or the verb of "to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence." Those are good, positive things right? Hope is something everyone has. We hope that our futures will be successful. We hope that things will improve from their current situations. We hope that we can teach our children and spend enough quality time with them. When you look on lds.org under hope it says "in our everyday language, the word often has a hint of uncertainty.(...) In the language of the gospel, however, the word hope is sure, unwavering, and active." A feeling that things will turn out for the best, or an unwavering & active pursuit toward that positive outcome? That's such a dramatic difference. Connecting that to my motherhood experience: I can often have those days where I hope that my children are gaining positive characteristics and receiving the love that I try to give them. But then there is a day like yesterday where I take an active(not reactive) role in the life of my children and the hope becomes unwavering that I gave them a day of positive learning experiences. There is more to hope than that though. Its a hope of our eternal nature and knowledge of the Lord and of Heavenly Father's plan for us to return to Him.
What of that perfect brightness? What does that even mean?! Perfect. Okay. That's an easy one...its...perfect. No flaws. No weaknesses. Whole. Okay, now brightness. Um...full of light? Glaring? Blindingly shining? How can that explain hope? Have you ever heard of a glimmer of hope? That's a visual I've had in my mind before. A small faint idea that something will happen. A glimmer. A fleeting glimpse. A perfect brightness of hope is the exact opposite. It's not a tiny flicker off in the distance. It's an overwhelming awareness of the way things will turn out. "With hope, we can find joy in life. We can 'have patience, and bear with . . . afflictions, with a firm hope that ye shall one day rest from all your afflictions'.(Alma 34:41)" That also comes from lds.org in their Gospel Library. I've often heard the combination of faith, hope & love in regards to many things spiritual. There is a difference between faith & hope. Faith is a belief or knowledge in something. "Faith is knowing the sun will rise, lighting each new day." Hope is also a connection to knowing something, but has more connection to our actions on this earth.
Thanks for reading, if you did. Sorry for the unfinished thoughts. I'm owing it to that feeling in the title of this post.
But I am still grateful for these beautiful gifts from God. Looking at their faces and remembering their innocence is helpful. Refocusing on my family. That's what I need to do. Wish me luck.