Survivors Together

Recently I have felt strung out. By strung out, I mean feeling like I have been plugged into an electric socket… long term. Like every part of me is frazzled and wires are short circuiting. A medical term for this would be “adrenal fatigue” or more commonly “burn out”.

On one of these days, getting ready for bed, I stood at our bathroom sink and just stopped. My hands were on the sink and I drooped against the sink in exhaustion.  It was almost like feeling catatonic. Just standing at the sink, and staring meaninglessly. Feeling the exhaustion and yet wired state of my body combined through every pore of my body.

My husband saw. He kindly came over and started kneading the back of my neck and my shoulders.

Eventually, I turned to look at him. What I saw in his eyes surprised me. They were a reflection of my own.

I saw his tiredness, his exhaustion, his efforts to keep it all together.

So I moved to hug him. We stood there together, holding each other, for minutes. Neither of us said anything. There was no humour; no light hearted comments.

This was a recognition of what we were going through, together. That embrace said volumes.

It acknowledged equally that we were both under stress. It communicated that we were on the same team, though we felt and experienced the stress differently. It underlined our commitment to each other. Neither of us were giving up or walking out on our challenges.

That long hug showed me so much. The positive of our situation is that after three years, we are starting to pull together. We are starting to see the situation through similar lens. There was a sense of emotional intimacy in that embrace; we have now become survivors together.

I was asked a year ago what advice I had for keeping a marriage together under our kind of ongoing stress raising a child with complex medical needs (and a highly intelligent sibling who wants his share of our time and attention). I had none. All I could say was, “Our commitment and faith hold us together. We don’t take our vows lightly.”

There have been plenty of times the stress has been overwhelming and walking away has sounded appealing. Relationships flourish in calm, connected seasons. They are far harder to sustain in seasons of prolonged struggle. Each time I feel the stress taking over and the temptation set in, I take a long view on what the impact of that decision would potentially be. I picture our fractured family; the impact on our boys; being a single parent. That’s not a path I want.

Three years on since our second son Cayden was born, I see my husband doing a wonderful job with our boys. We have more moments of laughter. We are dedicated together to finding ways to navigate the stress and provide more fun times together as a family.

We have become survivors. Together.