Would you like some cheese with that Whine?

If you don't want to read another post where I moan and complain and say woe is me, then just skip this one OK.

It has been one month since Jared had his surgery. His incision has healed up nicely. In fact his hip does not seem to really hurt anymore. What is bothering him is his foot because of nerve pain. Because they stretched the leg, the nerve is going crazy.

Because he is in so much pain, he is not getting out of bed very much. I am trying to insist that he do it, and some days have been more successful than others. I am still sleeping on the couch in the family room with him. Last Sunday my husband switched with me and I slept in my own bed. Crazily I woke up very sore the next morning. Perhaps my back has formed to the couch.

Last Sunday I felt at the very end of my rope and was barely functioning. Several factors conspired together to suck my will to live.

One of these was nursing Jared round the clock. I am too old to not get my sleep at night. Not to mention being a caregiver is rather exhausting. In addition watching your son writhe in pain and not be able to do anything to fix it, is not my idea of a good time.

Secondly, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer about a month ago. She had surgery on Wednesday and they found more cancer there than they hoped. (yes, if any of you didn't know, Funny Farmer is my SIL) My mom is optimistic, but will have to go through chemo and radiation. We are still waiting for some more results before we have to go over the edge of panic falls without a canoe. Still, this added to the hurt, heartache, and sorrow I am experiencing right now, not to mention fear and worry.

And as if those two things weren't enough, a dear family in our ward had to return their foster children to their birth parents this week. They have been caring for these children for almost two years. There was an adorable little 4 year old boy named Joseph, and an even cuter little 18 month old girl Emily. Both with blue eyes and blond hair. The little girl was only two months old when she was removed from her home and went to this family for foster care. Joseph was especially fond of Diana and he always loved to see her each week at church.
A month ago a moronic judge ordered that the kids be returned to their birth parents. These are parents who have drug issues and are often homeless. Why it is better to put the kids with their genetic parents who won't care for them, than to have them with a foster family who would cherish and adore them, is beyond my capacity to comprehend. Friday, the kids were taken away from this family in my ward. I know life is not fair, but seriously do I have to be reminded so often?

I have watched and related as this family has reveled in the joy of finally having children. They have adored those kids. I know that it is suppose to be better to have loved and lost, but it sure doesn't feel like it to me. Maybe I was sent to this Sister's life, so she can have someone to relate to. We cried together yesterday.

And so knowing this terrible thing would be happening, and knowing that it would cause me to relive my own pain at the loss of a foster child, well I think it had something to do with my feeling emotionally bereft this week.

These three things combined to be a triple threat that I was unable to rise above. I survived it. Barely. I am still here today, but it was not a pretty week at my house or in my head. I do not enjoy the grieving process, unless it is the denial stage, and it has been unavoidably impossible to live in the land of denial.

Then there is just this teeny tiny thing called Christmas, which may require a teeny tiny bit of effort on my part.

Friends and family are understandably and needfully concerned for me. I seem to be having a bridge standing, George Bailey Christmas. I have faith that I will be reminded of how and why I have made a difference in people's lives and eventually I will come to remembering that it is a wonderful life.

At the present, I am not convinced.

I am trying to take better care of myself. One way was to talk Jared into not waking me in the middle of the night. Sleeping through the night for several nights has made things seem bearable again.

My sister is going to try and come for a visit this week on Thursday and Friday.

Jared and I will start going back to doctor appointments this week, which will force both of us to get out of the house. Dang I will have to go back to wearing a bra again. Last week I just went around in a sweat shirt.

I have come through difficult times in the past, and there is no reason to think that this time will be any different.

Actually I am surprised at the difference a week can make. My husband put our lights up outside and set up the tree. Then my daughter did a lot of decorating and cleaning on Saturday. That is huge because I have thought about it all week, but couldn't bring myself to do it.

A vacation for me is planned in the future. This week will be the last week of school for my husband, and then he will have a 5 week break.

Please don't everyone freak out about this post. It is just me needing to vent.

Many people have told me more or less that I am doing this rehab thing wrong, that I am going to get my son addicted to pain killers and that I am not hard enough on him, making him do more things.

But they are not in my shoes. They have not lived through the past six months. Last time I checked I am still the mother of this child and have special stewardship and gifts to enable me to fulfill that calling. I would be the first to admit that I am not doing as well as I could be. But each day I am doing the best that I can and so I must say "Talk to the hand" to all these well meaning advice givers.

Although given with my best interest at heart, it has made me feel like the biggest loser, and even question if Jared would be better off in someone else's care. It is a hard line to figure out. Look at the movie Heidi, at some point the cripple has to be made to do things they think they are not capable of doing. It is just knowing when that time is that I am struggling to figure out.

Elder Wirthlin said in his last conference talk: "The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."

I have faith that this will be true for me and Jared. We just have to get through each day by breathing in and out, until the next day comes. Some day we will cry a river of rejoicing and gratitude tears.