An undone post, but it's all I can do for today

I have a lot of things to talk to you, dear readers, about. But today, I'm going to talk about my mom.

My lovely mother. It is so hard for me to think about this, but I've got to come to terms with it.

My mom has cystic fibrosis. We found this out just a few weeks after my aunt, who also was recently diagnosed with CF, passed away.

I can't imagine how my mom is dealing with this. Seeing your sister die from this awful disease and finding out weeks later that you also have it. I know it's been nerve-wrecking for her. Up 'til now she has had virtually no symptoms of this disease - which in all honesty is probably a really, really good thing.

I haven't been too terribly worried (or maybe I've just been avoiding coming to terms with it) because we're still in the finding-out stages of this. They've done a bazillion tests on her to see what type of CF she has (turns out it's really rare), but they haven't begun treating her fully yet because they're waiting on all the test results first.

It's like I told my friend today - this just came out of nowhere! It makes my head spin to think about it. Most people are diagnosed with this at birth or shortly thereafter, and I don't even want to think about the average lifespan for someone with CF. I am really scared for her.

She is one of the strongest people I know.

It's time

For the past two months, we have had it rough. Watching my aunt die, finding out that my mom also has cystic fibrosis, Mike's relief quitting and him being off his schedule/not knowing when he's going to be home. Work, in all honesty, has been a constant, even though we lost a big client and I've been subconciously worried about my job security.

Then in the middle of all of this I have a panic attack that sends me to the ER (although at the time I had no idea that it was a panic attack). Having had a few more of them - most usually when Mike is gone - has got me thinking that it's time. When the sound of your child awake over the baby monitor sends you into a full-blown panic attack, it's time. Do you know what it's like to feel like you're about to pass out at 3 a.m. and know that you're the only person there for your baby? More than once I've had to call friends and family in the middle of the night to come care for Cole because I did not think I could do one more thing.

It's time.

Dear Cole...

I love our morningtime cuddles. You eat, get changed, and then we just sit on the couch and cuddle and you fall asleep. Lots of times I do, too.  It is the only time that I don't have to rock you in the rocking chair first.