It was the second day that I had to force myself to get up.  I stared at the ceiling blankly before I  made any movement.  My head pounded and I felt  a  burning sensation run down my neck into my shoulders as I  turned my head towards the clock.  It was getting late I had to start moving.  But as I turned my body to the side,  my legs felt heavy and also ached.  A queasy uneasiness passed over me. I had to get up.  It did not matter how I felt.  It did not matter that I had not slept  more than 3 hours for the last few nights.  I had to disengage from this pity party that seemed to make itself at home in my mind. There was more to my existence then my needs.  I had two lives in particular that relied on my constant care. Also there was no one else to fill in for me.  It was just that simple-  there was no one else.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed.   A surge of pain traveled up into my back.  My body felt weighted and lifeless.  I pushed my shoulders back, as I  stood up, straightening myself.   Why was I feeling this pain I wondered, to no one.  It was not like I had done anything different the last few days.  I stepped away from the bed and attempted to stretch through the aches.  A tingling feeling labored in each foot as I  stepped towards the door.  I wished more than anything I could crawl right back into bed.  Hide from the world hide from life. Just hide.  It was no use pretending what I was feeling was real -life, well my life anyway,  had just become to much.  I was drained.  Tired of smiling my way through the sorrow.  Tired of hoping for more.  Tired of waiting to exhale.

 The house felt chilly and I shivered slightly from the cool air.  I took a deep breath and tried to picture my happy place.  I was not even sure I actually had a happy place.   But  I remembered a conversation I had with a psychologist when Josiah was hospitalized  last May.  Sometimes we need to step away from our thoughts by mentally drawing ourselves somewhere else, I was told.  The first image that came to my mind  was -Me in my kayak floating on my lake.  For a second I  could almost feel the sun beating down on me. Then the water became choppy my overwhelming thoughts rushed back to me. 

My sons needed me and nothing else mattered because I was their means of thriving.   Every aspect of their  survival depended on me.  Even if they had an itch on their nose they needed me.  My only ambition was  to  take care of them, to be their arms their legs and at times their only friend.  I passed by the hallway mirror just outside my bedroom door. I glanced at the reflection of me.  I looked the same.  A bit worn, a little disheveled with a hint a grey threatening my roots.  At least I  did not look as bad as I  felt  I thought to myself.

With my head still pounding I dragged my body up the flight of stairs toward my sons room. I stopped and listened just outside the door.  I could hear the slight hum of Josiah's bi pap.  No,  they were not calling for me yet. Quickly I moved into the kitchen to prepare their morning meds.  My mind raced with thoughts as I maneuvered around the kitchen.  Another uneasiness rushed through me.  It came at me so hard I rested against the kitchen counter.  My gut ached and I felt a  sadness swallow me.  With in seconds I was overwhelmed with emotion.  Sorrow filling my core as though I was an empty vessel.  My eyes filled with tears.   I  blinked as pools  cascaded down my cheeks.  I was frozen amidst this flood of unwanted feelings.  Trembling from  this hostile take over.  Becoming lost in my own sea of despair as every fear and sad  memory lunged toward me .  I quit fighting  and felt myself  surrender under its siege.  I just wanted it to end.  I wanted to be numb again,  be free of the sorrow.  I had no time for this.

The message echoed through my mind over and over, I had no time for this.  This falling a part business. Yet I had no more control over what was happening than breathing.  Some days it just took more than I  felt I had to offer.  The moment was interrupted as I heard the soft call "MOM". Instantly I  wiped at my eyes. The emptiness slowly parted and a new feeling began to stir with in me.  Something that pushed me to rise above the sadness that tried to hold me captive.  A force that guided me to a purpose.  Yes, that was it - I had a purpose.  There was way more to my life than just making sure my stomach was full and I had clothes on my back. There was more to me than living for an occasional night out. I had purpose, I was needed.  My life mattered to someone.

I know there will be days when the isolation and disconnect will wrestle with me over my very existence. There will be times when hope fades and  I will have to pick myself up once again and continually I will need to be reminded I have an amazing  purpose.  I will hang on to knowing  that I am  the heart that keeps the journey going "I am a mother".