During pregnancy and labor, I feel at peace with my situation. I have accepted what is happening and what is yet to come. I’ve read about it. I’ve envisioned it. I’ve prepared for it. I am confident in the outcome.
But there comes a time, every time, when all that acceptance slips away. And I panic. Because I realize that I cannot change what is about to happen. A child is about to come out of me. And not only is that going to hurt – a lot – but that child is also going to need me to care for him for life. And, in the last moments before those truths become reality, I feel trapped. I feel unable to continue. I want it all to stop. I want to go back.
The same happens on a long run, a distance I haven’t conquered yet. I start out sure of myself. I have trained hard, worked up to this. I know my muscles are strong and my lungs are fit. But, near the end, there is a wall that I hit. Suddenly, I doubt the outcome. I regret ever even putting my shoes on. I feel unable to continue. I want to just stop. Go back.
It doesn’t last. A second wind comes just in time. Each time, just when needed. I finish strong. And after a few deep breaths, I’m already anticipating the next time. I was made for this. To run. To have children. My confidence returns.
As I watch my mother in her final days, I see in her eyes a look of entrapment. And I understand.
She knew this was coming. She’s been preparing for months. She knows what will happen. She has assurance, faith, confidence. But she’s in that moment, right before the second wind. She knows it’s all about to change. She recognizes that she’s leaving all familiar territory behind. Forever. And she feels trapped. Unable to continue. She just wants it all to stop. She wants to go back.
Mom, run your race. You were made for this. You were made to one day leave this world of pain and finally know the true joy of God’s eternal presence.
Finish strong.
I just discovered your blog by googling “wives of PhD students”. I found what I was looking for and more! I went through this same scenario 3 years ago with my mother. (It still seems like yesterday). I’m moved by this post (as well as the others) on your mothers final days as they cause me to again reflect again on my time spent with my mother before her passing. I wish I would have been more “attached” to my mothers last weeks and savored life. We all were sure she was going to pull through. Thank you for posting this. – Kari
Oh Beth….you have a gift for putting feelings to words. Still praying for your mom. xxx
Beautiful, Beth.
I agree, that was beautiful. And I’m still praying too.
This was very touching. My mom has cancer too and is nearly the end of her race. I’m not really to the point of knowing what to say to her but when I read this, I knew that when the time comes, this is exactly the type of encouragement I would want to be able to give her. Know that I am praying for peace of her in the next few days and for your whole family as you have to learn to live without her.
you have a gift. a gift to acknowledge the emotions and struggle and to glorify God in the process. thank you… for i know it will help in many of our futures.
blessings beth
kristin
Absolutely beautiful and touching.
I’m worried as to why you are quiet with the blogging… hoping all is still well and everyone is standing strong!
I am so sorry for your loss, those words are often said to let someone know we wish they had not lost their loved one, so I started with those words today because I am genuinely sorry that you have lost your Mother in the physical sense, that you can no longer just go and sit with her and be present. The things you have lost are unique to you and your Mom and the relationship you had.
I happened upon your site today from a different link and I had to write to tell you I am sorry and to thank you for the blogs you shared as your family traveled on that leg of the journey. Your honesty and the analogies you made were so real and so moving. I sit here with tears in my eyes as I try to type this note to you. I needed this cry today so badly. There are times when I need to cry but I think I will do it later because I have stuff I need to get busy doing and then the tears spill out at times when I am talking with someone and do not expect they are about to come and suddenly there they are and I feel embarrassed.
I did not lose my Mom to Cancer but I did lose her in 2006 after years of a lengthy battle with Heart Disease and she fought til the end too. She was such a strong woman who went through so much in her life and I so wish I could sit with her today and talk. I lost my Dad last year to Cancer and I so appreciate you letting us in on your feelings and being so REAL.