I did the most cliché thing a special needs mother could do yesterday morning and "took some me time." If there is any advice I read over and over it's "you really need to find time for yourself. For self care. Out of the house. Doing the things you used to love. Finding your passion again. Meeting with friends. Making new friends. Blogging. Soul care. Take care of YOU. How can you take care of your child when you haven't paid attention to yourself?"
The thing is, I've been really good about finding time for myself. I've heeded the advice and ran with it. Jon and I both encourage each other to get out there and do all the things, especially as Jack has gotten older. But since his birth, I've also been really good at avoiding certain things. Mostly out of fear.
Yesterday, despite the fear, I went to the doctor. I have been avoiding this one big time. Not because I don't have hours in the day, but because there is just so much baggage. I haven't visited the doctor for a regular ol' checkup since my pregnancy. Five years ago. Back then I got horrible rotten care. Back then things did not work out so well. Back then I almost died. Avoiding it all worked OK for a few years. I focused on Jack and his gazillion medical appointments.
As time does, the years started flying by. I kept telling myself next fall, next spring, next year, but the fear was always nagging, causing me to push the date. Finally, I said it's now or never. I picked a new clinic, cold called and got an appointment A WEEK LATER. (Since when does that ever happen?)
Then... nerves. It's funny how the smallest of things become so dramatic. My internal dialogue was "get a grip!" and "things will be fine!", but no matter the pep talk, I also know the flip side. The side where the smallest thing can erupt into the biggest thing and the next thing you know, you are being life-flighted to another hospital.
On the scale of things, "me time" yesterday was totally non-eventful. It was pretty much how a regular check up should go. In and of itself it was healing, because I was not rushed off to meet my 23 weeker son in an emergency c-section. Visiting the doctor was a very small blip in my week. It was in fact, a "typical" experience. A "Hey! I'm just like the other ladies going to their annual exam!" sort of thing. For that, I am thankful.