I read a blog post that really hit home with me. I started to comment, and ended up writing the majority of this post. So then I though, perhaps I need to blog about it… Because you know if a comment you leave elsewhere is longer than some of your entries, you just might need to get it out.

I’ve been told I’m strong. But am I? I hear this all the time, from people once they hear my ‘story’. People say it when they find out I have an infant son with cancer. They tell me I’m so brave and strong, and how only special parents would be given this challenge.

When they learn about my past, about Raime, Elora and Connor, I hear it again. Wow, how did you do it, how did you stay so strong? How did you go on?

But tell me, what would be my other option? I have other kids. I can’t stop going on. There is laundry to do, homework to help with, dinner to cook. My life didn’t stop just because my babies lives did. The world keeps on spinning.

I don’t think of myself as strong. I did what I had to do. I still do it. I don’t want to be the mom with all the dead babies. I don’t want to be the one who has a kid with cancer. I want life to be normal and happy and fun.

Sometimes I think perhaps it’s not that I’m strong, it’s that I’m too weak to do anything else, but go on. I guess I just don’t know any other way. This is what my life is.

I try not to dwell on the bad things that have happened. I started trying to keep this mindset after we lost Raime. While I was in the hospital, we had a nurse that was very cold, and made some rude comments under her breath, but we heard them. I mentioned it to another nurse and we never saw the rude one again, and were assigned the most amazing nurse ever.

When I was discharged from the hospital, a friend told me I should write a letter, telling the administration about the one nurse and her unprofessional behavior. But I didn’t want to think about the negative. I instead decided to write a letter to let them know just how wonderful the other nurse was while we were grieving.

It’s hard to focus on the positive, and not to get caught up in what isn’t fair, and what just plain sucks. I struggle with it on a regular basis. I find though, when I try to discover the good in our situations, I am happier.

Maybe I’m living with my head buried in the sand. Perhaps some crazy amount of sorrow and grief is going to suddenly strike me and I’ll be a wreck because I haven’t properly let it all out. But I don’t think so.

I do get sad. I do cry. I am not always strong. I’ve felt frustrated, angry that we didn’t get to keep our babies. Jealous of those who do. I’ve felt weary and beaten down, like I just can’t handle one more thing.

But I always do. I always manage, and we get by, and move on. Even if I don’t want to, the kids and Aaron keep me from staying down for very long. I often think they are the ones who are strong and that I’m just along for the ride.

I often think about people who lose their first born. Now THEY are strong. I can’t even fathom that, going through that kind of pain without other children to distract you, who need you to function and take care of them.

And then there’s Ryan’s cancer. I KNOW I am not strong there. I send Aaron to the majority of his treatments and appointments. Again, I’m there with the head in the sand thing.

So yeah. I’m not so strong. I need to lean on others for support.