Perspective

ashley-121VeniceLast Friday I was in a terrible car accident on the freeway. I was on my way to work when a pickup truck was rear ended and came flying into me faster than a speeding bullet. I can still hear the sound of the crashing metal and the smell of the air bag. It plays over and over in my mind in slow motion, but the reality of it is that it all happened in a second. Life can change in a second. It’s terrifying. All three cars involved were totaled and yet, we all walked away.  Almost immediately, however, I felt pain in my neck. It’s been a year and a half since my surgery but the pain I felt was all too familiar.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had debilitating pain and the accident has served as an unwelcome reminder of all that comes along with it.
I remember spending much of my time in bed in the weeks following my surgery. I felt very sorry for myself. It’s really difficult to rely on others for everything; to give up your independence and the freedom to do what you want when you want and, frankly, how you want. I was plagued by the realization that while this was simply the recovery process for me, many others go through their entire lives with these limitations. I feared I’d forget the perspective that I acquired during those hard times. And, in truth, part of me has. I found that as I slowly recovered, I also slowly forgot. I started to take my health for granted. Maybe that’s not the write word. Rather, I started to feel entitled to good health because that’s what life had always given me.
It’s hard to make sense of tragedies. And my accident is far from a tragedy, I know. But when I look to find meaning embedded in what happened, I think about the perspective that I let slip away and I think about the entitlement I felt. And I think, maybe this accident was meant to give me some sort of reminder; a reminder that life – the good and the bad – is a privilege. When people ask me about how my neck is feeling, I tell them neck pain isn’t a bad problem to have. Because, really, think of the alternatives.
I haven’t been able to do as much as I normally can. Dishes have piled up, clothes have piled up, the floors are dirty, the entryway is cluttered with unmatched shoes strewn about, piles of mail are sitting unopened, and so on and so forth. And I’ve found myself swearing that if it weren’t for my pain, all of these things would be done; that the house would be clean, sparkling even.
I’m familiar with this cycle. You see, I know that when my body recovers, the house will stay dirty. I’ll be left wondering where that positive, energetic energy went that was so looking forward to being healthy so that things could get done. Because, you see, when I can’t do them, it’s what I miss most. When I can’t do them, I realize that being able to do normal, everyday things really is a privilege.
It’s a shift in perspective from bitching about having to make a bed to being grateful for having a bed to make. And nothing has taught me that more than my experiences with debilitating pain. I hope this go-around I can hang on to that perspective just a little bit longer.
Photo by Tish Carlson

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Surgery & Nesting

Planning a major surgery reminds me a lot of planning for another child. They are the same in that I have this impending feeling of doom looming over me; that feeling that things are about the change in a major way first for the bad and then for the good.
Just like those final weeks of pregnancy, my surgery has been consuming my everyday thoughts. The sense of uncertainty is the same; is everything going to be okay, how will the kids handle not having me like they’re used to, how will my family deal with caring for my household, how will I feel handing over my household… The sense of wonder is the same; how will I feel, how will I look, how will I recover…
And, I’m nesting. It’s crazy. I suddenly feel this mad rush to get everything in order. I have multiple to-do lists; one of them even has “clean out email inbox” on it. You know you’re in trouble when cleaning up your online mess makes the list… I mean no one even sees that mess. Other things I want to do: clean out the kids drawers (I can just see someone else dressing my kids in clothes that are too small because ‘they were in the drawer’… and God forbid they be put in clothes that are too small), stock up on things like paper towels (because God forbid we run out), organize my closet, etc, etc. I’m becoming a raging lunatic, I tell ya.
It dawned on me that I’m scared. And just in saying that out loud I get that choked up feeling in the back of my throat. My life is not only about me anymore and it’s scary to think of my family… my loving husband, my two perfect boys… all while I’m being put to sleep and a surgeon, with my life in his hands, cranks on my spine and reconfigures it using nuts and bolts. It’s terrifying.
The uncertainty, the wonder, the fear… it’s been consuming me. And like a light bulb, I realize now why I’ve been zooming all over the place as of late; I’m trying desperately to pass the time.
But the time has come. Ready or not.
Tomorrow will be the first of a few guest posts I have planned from some awesome friends

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that have been so kind as to fill in in my absence. I also have quite a bit of catching up to do… more bits + pieces for the last few months, portraits of the kiddos to share, our last trip to Palm Springs that I have yet to post, some Insta-meets, some photo sessions, a final post on breastfeeding, and a new travel series I want to start… I thought you would be hearing some crickets, but turns out I’m so behind that I’m ahead. Ha!

In any event, please keep me and my family in your thoughts this week. And thank you, always, for your love and support.

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