OPEN LETTER

As most of you know I am going through a difficult time with my health right now. And for some reason I'm having a hard time discussing it. But a few days ago I had a brilliant idea that I got from my friend Aimee. I've decided to write letters to my disease. And as strange as that sounds writing about it is really helping. Being able to direct my feelings toward someone (or something) is turning out to be just what I need.

I'm not sure if this is a great idea to post these. Makes me feel super vulnerable, but I'm hoping that in some strange way it will help. I've been holding on to these, and well, I just need to get rid of them. Post them, and then move on. So, I'm sorry if these make you feel uncomfortable. Please feel free to not read them. I know they are not typical Naptime style, but well, life isn't so typical anymore.


Dear MM,

I hate what you are doing to me. Stealing part of my life away.

Tonight, for the first time, you stepped in and affected my world. I've been dealing with you for some time now, your sneaky annoying way that you are always there, reminding me that life is no longer as it once was.

You've robbed me of my hearing. You've taken away the simple ability to focus and enjoy social situations as I once did. But by far the most annoying thing you have bestowed upon me is the incessant ringing. This fire alarm going off in my ear 24/7 is just plain cruel. No one should have to live this way. And often the thought of having to, makes me depressed and anxious. Sometimes the simple thought of not EVER being able to just hear silence scares me so much. But all this, annoying as it is, I know I can handle. Some days you are more fierce and belligerent than others, but I always know that I can get through it. I know that if I can just keep my head above water, keep putting one foot in front of the other that you can't steal my life away. You won't win. But tonight that all changed.

Tonight you stole something so precious to me. And I hate you for it. I am a wife, a sister, a daughter, but above all that I am a Mother. It is who I am at the core of my being and what I love to do. And tonight you took that away from me. And it is killing me. I awoke just a few moments ago by Hubs. I didn't hear a single thing. Just my fire alarm like always. I awoke because I felt him get out of bed. As he was quickly walking out of the room, I realized something was wrong. When he got back I asked him if everything was okay. He told me that one of the children had waken up and was crying. Nothing that a quick hug couldn't fix. He got back into bed, and promptly went back to sleep. I on the other hand did not. I was confused. A child was crying? And I didn't hear it? How could that be? Then I realized it was because of you. You had taken this from me. Being able to hear my child. Being able to help him. I feel robbed. Violated. And it makes me so sad. I'm crying so hard I can't sleep. For the first time you have robbed me of the opportunity to be a mother. I have NEVER slept through a child waking up in the middle of the night. EVER. But as you are well aware, the symptoms you give me are far worse by night than by day. I am saddened by the thought that I couldn't hear him. That I can't hear him. And you took that from me. Took the opportunity from me to mother. To console, and to love. And I hate you for that. I hate you so much.


Amy

12:38 a.m.