Isn’t it a wonder how little tiny humans, so innocent and simple can bring us some of the greatest strength we know?
A close friend told me, in the midst of an extremely rocky time:
“Anyone can give up, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.”
Motherhood gave me this strength.
I don’t for a second give myself the credit of successfully making it to where we are today. Dash and Sunny, at such young ages, gave me the courage and will to push through each day. I can confidently say that without my children I wouldn’t have had the strength to endure through this successfully, and they even made me come out a better, happier, stronger person. The blessing of being a mother through this gave me the strength I needed.
With out hesitation, I knew what I needed to write about today. I can easily pinpoint the single most pivotal moment in my life. It was that monumental moment that molded my future more than most any moment in my past. It was a simple phone call from my husband. I answered the phone and on the other end was the most humbled voice I had ever heard. My husband expressed to me that he needed my help. I knew what he needed, I had known for sometime, but I also knew I couldn’t fix it, he had to discover for himself. This was the day that he finally did. [KEEP READING FOR THE ENTIRE ESSAY.]
In the previous months I had prayed, begged, pleaded and time and time again, struck out viciously. Our home had become a battle ground. I found myself telling Dash that Dad was sick. Telling family and friends that we were busy, and making excuse after excuse to protect my husband in whom I was steadily losing faith. Though he was still kind, the sweetest father, and his love for me was apparent, a wall had been built, and our relationship was diminishing rapidly. Dane had developed an addiction to pain killers, an evil that had taken over his sweet countenance, his motivation, his suc
cess and practically his entire existence. We fought with it, and with each other, day after day. Making no progress, never able to conquer this strain that had destroyed the angel I married. He had lost everything but his life, and even that was hanging by only a thread. But with this phone call, I saw a glimpse of light that had been absent for so long.
I had spent countless hours, evaluating our situation, our life, trying to bring to light what was most important. The answer was always the same; our children and our family. But I knew as long as this addiction was alive, our happiness as a family unit would be dead. It had taken its toll on me, I was worn to the ground, the kids, although still very y
oung, were becoming more effected every day. I lost countless nights of sleep worrying about my children’s future. They needed a father. They needed Dane. WE needed Dane. But we couldn’t fix him. I thought if I tried hard enough I could convince him to just live right, to just stop! I thought the more I cried, the more fought, the longer I waited, surely he would change. To watch things only become worse, wore me out beyond imagination.
The phone call came as a surprise. After so many strike outs, I had all but given up hope, but in his voice I heard something in him that hadn’t been there in so long.The following day we drove together to Cirque Lodge, a rehabilitation center here in Utah. It was a moment you never expect to experience. Checking your husband into rehab is something no I wouldn’t wish on any wife. Neither of us knew how we got there, I know he felt ashamed, and I expected that I would feel the same. Instead, my feelings took me by surprise. I felt proud. Proud that he was strong enough to take this step. Proud that my husband was letting go of something with an unimaginable grasp on him, proud that he was doing this for himself, for his children, for me. This made him strong. The strongest person I knew.
In the following months I spent countless hours studying the addiction in order to try and fully comprehend what he was going through. The period of time he was in rehab, I was incredibly blessed. While mothering Dash and Sunny on my own was exhausting, at times I was sure I wouldn’t last another second. It wasn’t fair for them to live without their dad, who even when consumed by his illness, showed them the attention and love an extraodinary father would. How was I to fill this void? It was in those moments something would happen inside me, I imagined it being just like in cartoons, I felt my heart expanded in size, giving me the ability to show these kids the love they needed, the patience they deserved. They were the innocent ones. They didn’t deserve this heartache. Mothers are here to protect and nurture their children, to help their children feel safe and happy. It scared me that I wouldn’t have the ability to do this on my own.
With help of so many friends and family members, the boys seemed to stay light-hearted and cheerful. And because of their pure and simple happiness, it seemed to be one of the lightest times I could remember. Dash and Sunny filled me with so much joy. Day after day I was reminded that they are my strength, and every minute I was grateful that these perfect little people were mine. They were the reason my life was light, in what could have been the darkest of times.
Over the span of his rehab stay, we called ourselves Team Dane. We knew our Dane was on his way back. We saw him surface more and more each day as his mind and body became clean. We watched him find strength in himself, in the program, is his gospel,
and in us. When I picked him up to bring him home with us, he truly was back. His whole heart, his whole mind. Everything we remembered that he once was, and more.
After laying the boys down to bed at night, conversation frequently (or always) turns to Dash and Sunny. While fighting our urge to wake them, and bring them into our bed for more playtime, we discuss the hilarious things Dash said, the new noises Sunny uttered, and the overwhelming gratitude we feel that they are ours. Dane longs for the time he lost with them, and spends all his energy filling them with his love. There isn’t a greater gift than the joy and strength they brought to us while we faced this trial. Not a greater blessing than the way they mold us to be the individuals and parents were meant to be.
This final post is in partnership with Bugaboo’s Cameleon 3. We each have had the pleasure testing out the Cameleon 3, it is an all terrain stroller system that truly goes wherever we go. We are proud to be the Utahan correspondents for this project and have shared our pivotal moments in motherhood alongside our Camelon 3 escapades with accompanying photos by Cee Bee Photography over the last three days.
Thank you so much for your love and support!