Last spring I decided to go back to school to give myself a greater sense of purpose. When Lauren and I moved to Omaha I signed up for online classes so I could continue my program without taking time off. I am taking 17 credit hours this semester….What was I thinking?

College has been pretty hard so far, it’s not easy teaching an old dog new tricks. I am keeping my head above water and I am thankful that I have school as a distraction while I am here in Omaha. One of my classes required I update my profile on blackboard (college online page). I had to  add a picture to my profile. It was very difficult to find a suitable picture. I don’t have too many pictures of just myself. I am past the appropriate age for selfies. I didn’t want a picture that would showcase the fact that I am roughly 25 years older than all my classmates. I checked on Facebook and started with my most recent albums and worked my way back. The picture I ended up choosing was from Kelsey’s Junior ring day. It was a picture of the two of us and I was able to crop her out. Every time I log on to work on my homework that picture of myself is staring back at me. 

Once I realized when the picture was taken I knew why I had subconsciously chosen it. That was the last picture taken of me before Lauren’s accident. It was taken 3 days before that awful phone call that changed the course of my life.  My happiness and easy life show on my face, I miss that look in my eyes. 

The difference between then and now is that even when I am happy I am still grieving so deeply that I can’t be joyful. I thought about changing the picture once I realized what it symbolized. Instead, I have decided to use it as a motivator to be joyful regardless of my current situation. I read a quote the other day in a book that said; “ A mother is only as happy as her saddest child.” That quote really touched my heart. Then I thought to myself….”Shit….Why in the hell did I have so many kids? Someone is always bound to be sad. 

Even though that picture was just 2 years ago my face has aged at least 10 years. Along with the under eye bags and fine lines, I have also received a gift.  That gift is a new appreciation for life. I have seen my children face big people problems with maturity and grace and I am so incredibly proud of them. Dave and I are apart more than we are together yet we still find time to touch base at least a dozen times per day. Life is slowly getting better and I am thankful for the life I have now but I still long for the ease of my old life.

The happy mom in the pink dress is gone. She no longer exists. The good news is that she has been replaced with a strong, independent, bad ass, traumatic brain injury slayer and she is pretty awesome. She is new and improved. She may have a few more eye bags and fine lines, but she is stronger and wiser. She has a whole bathroom full of eye cream and is working on being joyful. She is inching closer and closer each day!

Motherhood by definition is; the state of being a mother. (I actually looked it up.) 

I am far from wise but what I do know is that motherhood in all of its forms is a gift; the good, the bad, and even the ugly. One common theme throughout motherhood is that every mother believes that God gave her the most beautiful children in the world. Clearly most are wrong because my children truly are the most beautiful…Am I the only one who thinks that? 

I became a mother a few weeks after my 18th birthday. I weighed 137 pounds when I delivered my first baby. I remember thinking that I was the fattest girl in the whole world. That makes me laugh out loud today. 

Raising kids is the hardest job on the planet but it is also the biggest gift. Even the shittiest parts of motherhood are beautiful when you pull back all the layers. I have learned that the early years are super hard but they are also super easy. When my Erin was little she was full of energy. She wore me out like no other toddler, she walked at 8 months and could climb like spiderman. How does a toddler learn to climb up a refrigerator? Especially a refrigerator with a missing handle because she snapped it right off. I somehow survived those years and even survived her teenage years of drunken high school parties disguised as “Mom, I’m going to the movies.” With each stage of motherhood, the job seems to get harder and harder. Now she is a successful ICU nurse and takes care of some of the sickest kids in St. Louis. I no longer worry about her falling from a high cabinet or drinking too much at a high school party.  Now my worries are for her broken heart as she watches some of the strongest mother’s fighting along side of their children who have been given the most unfair, worst set of circumstances. 

One of the advantages for me of becoming a mother at such a young age is that I never really had a chance to realize what the job entailed. My biggest concern was whether or not the stretch marks across my hips would go away. I mean…Oh My God….I thought I might die. Fast forward a decade and a half later, the stretch marks are small potatoes compared to seeing your kid sad after not winning a student council election or not making Varsity soccer. Why didn’t anyone tell me this? Or did they…would I have listened? 

Yet the triumphs are so much sweeter. Seeing your oldest become class valedictorian when you took motherhood 101 instead of getting a high school diploma is pure joy. The pride of motherhood is indescribable. Even during times when things are less than perfect there is always a silver lining. Life is certainly unpredictable and has many ups and downs. Motherhood is such a privilege and I am thankful that God entrusted me with seven of the most talented, good hearted, caring, beautiful children. He also entrusted me with seven of the most difficult, wild, messy, obnoxious and rude children in the world, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The last couple of years have really taken their toll on me. I never thought I would be the type of mom who wasn’t involved in the day to day activities of my kids. Since Lauren’s accident I have lived away from my family for long periods of time. I have lived in Beverly Hills, Downtown Chicago, St.Petersburg Florida (twice), and now I reside in Omaha Nebraska. When I was younger I went from my parent’s house to owning a home as a newlywed. In the last 2.5 years I have lived away from my family in five different apartments alone. This time has definitely taken a toll. This is not the job I signed up for…but that is part of the mystique of motherhood. Do any of us really sign up for the crappy parts? 

Today I actually googled, “The best product for under eye bags”. How did I get here? I guess what I’m trying to say is that motherhood is so much more than “the state of being a mother.” It is the hardest thing, the saddest thing, the funniest thing and the most glorious thing all wrapped up in a shiny bow. It is who I am and I have loved every second of it. Well, not the new bags under my eyes…those really suck… That’s all the wisdom I have for now, I’m headed to Target to pick up the  Olay Regenerist Anti-Aging Eye Roller. 

Shock, Denial, Anger and Acceptance

Grief…it’s a funny thing, okay its really not funny at all but it is peculiar. Ironically my favorite rockstar has an album named shock, denial anger and acceptance. For him it represents his depression. For me those four words represent the last couple years of my life.

The shock occurred when on a typical Friday afternoon I got a phone call from an LA detective telling me that my daughter was involved in a serious accident. That part of my grief lasted for quite a while. I think I walked around the campus of Cedars Sinai with a look of shell shock and zombie like auto pilot demeanor the whole time we were there, 46 days to be exact. I guess the private jet to Chicago snapped me out of my shock a bit. Denial set in as I settled in Chicago. Seriously, I am living alone in an apartment, visiting my brain injured daughter every day?

Anger…that was a tough one for me. I remember feeling anger after Lauren’s shunt surgery in Chicago when she briefly left RIC for surgery at Northwestern. That was the first time anger reared its ugly head. We were only a couple weeks in to inpatient rehab I and I was just learning the ropes of being a caretaker for Lauren. She was still pretty helpless, she could barely hold her head up without support and or coaching. She was incontinent, and was hard to change due to her inability to move her body. The staff at Northwestern wasn’t competent in dealing with a patient with such specific needs. I remember the nurse trying to administer Lauren’s thrush medicine. She asked her to put the medicine in her mouth and swish it around. I thought, “Are you kidding me? She can’t even hold up her head.” I explained to her that she received her medicine via a sponge wand that needs to be placed on her tongue. The next snafu at Northwestern was when Lauren was brought down to CT and brought right back upstairs. They were unable to get the scan because (as was coldly explained within earshot in the hallway), this patient can not follow simple directions.” This is about the time I lost it…I was mad at the world and shamefully I was mad as hell at Lauren. “Why in the hell did she feel like she could cross a 5 or 6 lane road when the caution light was blinking don’t walk? Doesn’t she realize how she has changed my life? I just want to go home, sleep in my own bed, be with my husband, her siblings, go to work and play on the weekends. Is that too much to ask? To add insult to injury she had just been diagnosed with C-Diff and was needing to be changed every 10 minutes. I took it upon myself to take over those duties, it was a dignity thing and I wanted to protect her from outsiders feeling pity for my formerly independent daughter. Luckily Dave had flown to Chicago to be with me and could see I was struggling. He took over waiting for discharge papers and to go with her as she was transported back to RIC. I went back to my apartment to regroup.

Acceptance…Ah that is a strong word. To acceptance I offer a big fat “screw you!!” It is over two years since my grief began and I refuse to accept our situation. In the early days when I was still in shock, I was told that if my daughter lived she we most likely remain in a semi vegetative state. Her future looked bleak and most likely she would always need long term nursing care for her very basic needs. Sometimes I really struggle with my present situation. Logic tells me that things will always be difficult but logic also told me that my daughter would not survive her injuries. It is not always so easy to be  positive. I realize many people pity me for my optimism, you would half to be half crazy to believe Lauren will return to a “normal” life. Good thing I am a little more than half crazy…I am a certified nut case! I am good at pulling it together. In the words of my favorite movie quote from Bridesmaids, “Carol, get your shit together.” I use that often. Back in St. Louis I am busy with my family and it is easy to hold it together. When you set the example for half a dozen other people, hiding your grief is easy peasy, in the silence of Omaha, it’s not so easy.



The Sunday before Lauren moved in at QLI, we went grocery shopping. I bought some celery. For anyone that knows me….I do not eat fruit nor vegetables so even thinking about eating celery is a big move. I told Lauren that as she started her tough journey on Monday, I would do something tough like eat celery. As I drove away Monday night, I stopped at the store and bought the biggest milk chocolate candy bar I could find. It is now the second week and I am feeling pretty disconnected from everything that makes me who I am. I am on the outside looking in. It is hard because I realize that I am exactly where I need to be but I am just so sad. Without having to hold it together for anyone here, I am falling apart. I have had mornings where I literally make myself sick from emotions and throw up. I try to always find the positive even in dark situations…One positive observation is that I bet celery would taste awful coming back up….I wouldn’t know because I haven’t had any yet. The butter pecan ice cream carton is nearly empty though. Another positive is that I am not throwing up  due to pregnancy related morning sickness. Today Sept 2nd I declare that my  pity party is officially over. I said to myself this morning, “Carol, get your shit together.” I put on some lipstick, my figure flattering spandex bike shorts, and hopped on my  bike to clear my head.

Lauren is where she needs to be and she continues to amaze me. Aphasia just plain sucks… I realize that if she would not have had that portion of her brain removed, she wouldn’t have survived, so for that I am thankful and I can deal with the aphasia for now..…  It will take time but she will get there. Life isn’t supposed to be easy, we got this and I truly believe we are on our way to greater things. The road to recovery often feels like it gets longer and longer. That's okay, because Mama Murphy will not accept what others feel is the future. People do impossible things all the time, I believe in the human spirit and more importantly I believe in the power of prayer. I know that God has put my family on this earth to work together for something amazing. Murphy's rule and they sure as hell don’t quit! In the meantime I will stay in limbo on the grief scale because acceptance is just not happening until I see my beautiful girl walk off into the sunset happy and healthy and whole because I am bat shit crazy and will not stop pushing until that happens.