We had another hard night last night with T. It's been almost a week since he's had any significant pain, but last night, his leg ached enough to bring tears and keep him awake much of the night.
I want so much for him to be pain free. And I want to stop second guessing myself whenever he has pain... I blame myself for his pain last night because we went to Kyler's cross country meet and he walked a lot... I should have known better.
Sometimes it's so hard for me to find the balance between pampering him and pushing him. He'd gone so long without pain, I really believed he could make the trek to the meet... when he complained about his foot aching, I encouraged him to push through it just a bit. His pain threshold is pretty low. So I've been trying to teach him to manage it - to identify the difference between an annoying ache and real pain. Helping him find ways to distract himself from the annoying ache... working with him to not moan loudly and cry constantly when the pain is worse.
Frankly, it's exhausting. And a bit frustrating at times.
I don't want to miss Kyler's races. But if the walking to the meets pushes Tejan into pain like he experienced last night, then somehow changes have to be made. I don't like having to make that choice.
I'm beginning to recognize loneliness in this process as well... that while many people have come alongside us and we have help when we ask for it, the brunt of this burden lies on my shoulders. No one can really completely understand the depth of emotion, exhaustion, sacrifice or love that is coursing through me in this experience. And frankly, people go on with their own lives. It's a lonely place in many ways.
Fortunately, through it all, I have Tejan - who, even when I'm exhausted and weary makes me laugh. And has a smile for me. And who says "Good morning, Auntie" even after a terrible night. He is such a pleasant and gracious boy. It is God's gift to me, I believe.
I also have Asia, who in this whole experience has been more sensitive, more giving, more thoughtful than ever. Just his touch on my hand gives me sustenance and strength. And his prayers are a salve on my worn and weary heart. He is so good to me.
I told him last night that I've never gone so long in complete and utter dependence on God. That I feel like every step I take is off the edge of a cliff, trusting God to catch me. It's probably where we're supposed to be all the time - trusting God to meet all our daily needs - physically, emotionally, spiritually... but I can say with confidence that I've not been there. Not regularly, for sure. And never as completely as I am now.
So it's all good. Really. Even in the difficulty and loneliness and exhaustion, I'm right where God wants me to be.
How can I complain about that?