Thursday, December 2, 2021

in constant flux

I keep writing blog posts in my head as I'm falling asleep. The next morning I don't remember them, but I do know I had some good points. Alas, they shall be known only unto God.

We are one week away from finishing the first term of Ambleside online. I love it. I more than love it. It is everything I need and everything Reuben needs. It speaks to me and is teaching and growing not only him but myself. I couldn't imagine doing school any other way. I am so glad I like it, even if it is a lot of work and tedious at times. But it is oh so wonderful. What a rich and truth-filled curriculum that nourishes the soul.

Thanksgiving was good. I rested a lot, spent money on linen clothes, indulged myself in child-free time and read too many books. 

Am I glad to see the tail end of 2021? Meh. 2020 was horrible. I wrote about it. It was one of the worst years of my life. But God is still good. 2021 was better just because it wasn't 2020. During 2021 I had zero pregnancies and zero miscarriages! It's been a deeply healing process. I am wrestling with the fact that I do, yes, want more babies. I will always morn that I didn't get the family I dreamed of in my head with eight children and an off-grid homestead, but I can't complain. God blessed me with a Reuben and a Becky and I am honored that I get to experience their childhood and be their mother. I would love to have another baby (or three), but I am 34 with the body of an unhealthy 64 year old. I don't know if I would survive the process. 

Even though I eat extremely healthy and try to take care of myself, not only can I not have more babies, I can barely cope with a regular life. Life with Lyme disease and gut issues and whatever the else is wrong with me is not fun. I wonder if I will ever heal; and I wonder oftener if I will ever stop feeling guilty over all the things I cannot do.

I can't do too many things in one day. I have lyme anxiety that is quite crippling at times (yes, yes, saint johns wort...) Some days just existing is painful and I am too tired to read books.

But I am still grateful, and I am learning to think of what I can do; not what I can't. I can play the violin, I can take my son to violin lessons, we still are doing our Friday co-op and I read to him a lot. We have fun doing crafts together and I am always able to invite people over, even when things are bad and I can't go places. And I do have good weeks--we had one just last week. Every time my body suddenly becomes normal it is almost a shock to have it break again, because I guess I just think maybe I'm healed. One can't stop hoping. Every time we go through this cycle (the good weeks) and I get hit by a very bad day or a bad week or two, I grieve all over again (and cancel plans. I always make too many plans on good weeks).

Anyway, I mostly just wish I knew what was wrong with me. I guess we can't have everything we want. 

Recently I have not felt much like blogging. It comes and goes too--but I am glad I kept an online journal. Every so often I go back and read old posts and have either one of two reactions "wow, I don't remember her (the girl that wrote that in in 2018 or 2019) or wow, I wonder if I am still that smart/funny/whatever. I feel like Lyme disease has fried my brain sometimes. At least I can spell better. Dyslexia is fun. 

God is good and I'm still here. I've almost made it though another year (well, hopefully, I mean its not Christmas yet, I guess I could still keel over)

I need to take more epson salt baths. 

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