Uncomfortable

This post has been jostling around my brain for weeks now, but unfortunately my house could double for a hospital infirmary with as many illnesses my kids have brought home and past on to each other. The latest round began Dec. 1 and they are still going strong. I am pretty sure I leave a scent of lysol, clorox, and antibacterial soap wherever I go. Have I told you how much I detest December?!?!

Well, a few months back I was on the treadmill doing one of my dreaded interval/tempo training runs at the gym when something I was watching caught my attention.  Not so much as what they were doing, but what the coach was saying.  ESPN was at one of Rich Rod's practices at University of Arizona as they were preparing for USC. They were asking him how he prepared his guys to face such a powerhouse team/program the week leading up to the game. His response was simple "Keep them uncomfortable to the point they begin to feel uncomfortable is comfortable."  Now I can only imagine what he put his poor players through to reach that point day in and day out the days leading up to the game, but something in it struck a chord and I immediately thought...that is my life!!!  Every day I must take an uncomfortable situation that was given to me and will stay with me until I take my last breath and make it comfortable. Some how our mind and heart must continue to fight through all the grief to the point where it feels normal...ugh!

Almost 2 years ago for some reason my cozy safe life was ripped away from me. My "comfortable", where the worst thing I knew was my parents battling and successfully beating cancer, a long time friend lost his battle (heartbreaking) with cancer, and one of my great friends from college's son was diagnosed with leukemia (disbelief and anger with this one) and continues to battle 2 1/2 years later (keep fighting Spence!!!) . These events are terrible and obviously affected my life, but I dealt with them and took the good with the bad and was able to honestly say my life is good because I had 3 healthy children with a much wanted 4th on the way. Spencer's diagnosis made me more aware, and maybe even a little paranoid for a little bit about my own children's sicknesses because if it can happen to them why not to us. But, at the end of the day it also made me even more thankful that my kids had their health. I never in a million years thought that a few months later I would have that taken away.

I think being "uncomfortable" is probably the worst feeling out there. Especially when you desperately want something to change that can not happen. When I am doing those miserable runs I mentioned above I know I have 4 minutes of "uncomfortable" followed by 4 minutes of "comfortable". The interesting thing is with every interval I find I can increase my speed because my body is able to adapt and I am able to ask more of it until i hit the point of exhaustion. I think once your baby dies this becomes a daily struggle. The first hours, days, weeks nothing but uncomfortable with brief breaks in between. As the months and now years go by I find that my intervals are less "uncomfortable" with more "comfortable" to keep us going. The struggle is when our emotions hit that exhaustion point and finding the strength to push on becomes overwhelming. As I sit 10 days out from Logan's 2nd birthday I can feel that emotional exhaustion. The uncomfortable is building again and all I want is to get to the 20th so I can fall back into my new "comfortable" and continue to build my stamina so when I reach that next point of exhaustion I can bounce back quicker.  I know this post probably sounds slightly ridiculous, but considering I am truly using my running as therapy ( and I will be running a marathon in 7 weeks) this is where I am choosing to fuel my emotional energy.

The love you have for a child is overwhelming in itself, but when you physically can't hold that child or see his smile or hear his laugh and in my case never saw it it is debilitating. Yet, somehow we are able to adapt and continue living. I try my best to take all that love I have saved up for Logan and share it with my other children, but at times I just want to keep it for him.

 With each day that life of "comfortable" I knew fades away, and here I am with an uphill climb living a  life sentence of "uncomfortable".  God, I miss my son.