Let's be clear. This is not about Ruby. She is amazing. She is a blessing. She is an absolute bright spot. It's me who is not...this is about me and my flaws.
The word of the day is struggle. Sun up to sun down.
Unfortunately that has been my world as of late...the last few weeks, for sure. I am constantly
uptight, anxious, out of patience and even angry. Most days I'm amazed
that Lehr comes home after work.
I struggle every time I'm reminded of a milestone that Maddux or Eli hit when they were exactly Ruby's age. Especially when Ruby is not only not there, but oh so far from it. I struggle every time we take a step backwards into the black hole of regression. Especially when it's on a skill like potty training that we've been working on for a solid year. I struggle each and every time I come face to face with her delays, which happens pretty much every time I see a child her age or younger completing a task with ease that she struggles with. Like voicing a need or observation with enough articulation that people other than me can understand. Like going anywhere in public without the constant worry that we might have a bathroom accident. Like walking through a parking lot (or store, or park) without having to be picked up and carried. Like playing in the yard with other kids without me having to hover every second because of the constant threat of her running into the street or the creek.
I can't even form the words most days to explain how much I let this stuff get to me. The cocktail of guilt, fear, self-pity and grief is strong. Guilt over what I have done wrong or not done right to help her in any given area. Guilt over having feelings of frustration and even anger that it's not working. Fear that we won't get past this. Self-pity over all the work we've put in without results. Grief that has come to visit way more often than I would like ever since Ruby was born. And then the guilt again because, good gravy...why am I still mourning the child who would follow the same trajectory Maddux and Eli did in their younger lives. Why do I still stack up what our daily life is to what it 'could have been'. What a sick and dangerous comparison game...