I have lived a very comfortable life. A loving family, great friends, a positive outlook – and most importantly, I’ve always felt loved. It is this love that has given me security, confidence and optimism when life’s little hiccups happen. And in an eerie way, a small part of me wondered when I would have my moment. The one you hear about on Lifetime movies or from acquaintances experiencing a tragic event. “Will I ever have to go through something like that?” I naively pondered — as if life-changing moments are always reserved for someone else. Someone… far away.
Then came November 3rd, 2010. About three and a half months ago. It seems like a year now, but I can remember it so clearly: The birth of our sweet Kate.
And for the first time in my life, it happened. The moment. The moment that causes you to not be able to think about tomorrow – because at that moment, it’s too painful to bare.
And though, I’m at peace now — dare I say, even happy — about Kate having Down Syndrome, I’m still trying to find my balance again. Because when you’re knocked that hard, it takes a little wobble, wobble, wobble to get back on track. Call it new-mom-of-special-needs-kiddo, call it post-partum hormone land, call it “whoa, we now have two babies,” call it I-don’t-care-if-I-never-step-foot-in-a-hospital-again, call it working mom syndrome, call it: life. Which sometimes can be uncomfortable. And that’s OK.
Because this is what the discomfort of the past 3 months has made me do: start a blog, connect deeper than ever before with friends and family, be vulnerable, cry to country songs on the radio, cry at American Idol, cry because I spilled my coffee yesterday (what was I saying about post-partum hormone land?), but most importantly: it has made me realize, bigger and better than ever before, who I am and who I want to be. Because if we are always comfortable, then we never have anywhere to grow.
And that is the value of discomfort.
I’m sure soon enough, I will softly fall back into that comfortable life routine where my mind is all aflutter with babies and gumdrops and fairy dust — but for now, I’m letting myself sit in a place that makes me better.