September 17, 2024

I've been reluctant to share this story but I have permission to introduce you to the newest member of our family. His name is Donnie and he's a nuisance. 

Donnie is loud and obnoxious. He's a real narcissist. He likes to be the center of attention. We can't do anything without him making himself known. He keeps my child in constant fear, afraid of every cough, sneeze and contamination.

Donnie lives in the center of the brain, the part that defies logic, there's no reasoning with him. He has to do what he wants, feeding his compulsions in order to feel better about all the things that make him uncomfortable. 

Donnie is my child's O.C.D. 

We thought it was anxiety for the longest, but it turns out the two go hand-in-hand. One causes the other and feeds the one and then repeats all over again to make one never-ending loop of frustration. It's a lot like the song that never ends, except Duracell Donnie has energy for days and days. 

That's how we knew. It started on July 11th, this cycle of fear, panic, frustration, anger, and remorse. Over and over, every day, sometimes more than once, Donnie kept going and going and going until our sweet child was exhausted and miserable. 

We waited for appointments and specialists and finally, on August 29th, we began our official journey with Donnie, our new favorite enemy. He's despised by everyone, the control he wields, unyielding. 

This journey can be thought of in two parts; before August 29th and after. Before August 29th, we didn't know what we were dealing with. We were doing things that we now know, weren't at all helpful, they just seemed to help us get-by. 

After August 29th, and we are beginning to understand just what Donnie is and that he can be managed. Not quickly, because he's stubborn, but what Donnie doesn't know, is that "the warden" has had her fair share of dealing with stubborn dudes and it's going to take a heck of a lot more to throw me off course. I'm in it for the long haul. 

And boy, has it been difficult. His doctor said this was not for the faint of heart and that's good because I don't know anyone like that. 

I keep thinking about how every road led us to this moment in time.  Every decision, every lesson learned, every choice, and how it all counts towards this current battle. The sleepless nights with Rosie and her epilepsy. The care, the planning, the therapies, the meds, the advocacy. 

Taking care of the most stubborn of them all, Doug Seegars. The care, the patience, the frustrations that his chronic condition brought and the fortitude to keep going.

My sobriety. The need to have a clear head, to show up every day for myself and my family, the tears, the desire to try harder and be better. The willpower to keep going no matter what. 

There are no faint hearts over here. We get stuff done in the face of adversity. I've been through it and come out on top every single time and of one thing I'm certain, each new challenge is a new set of opportunities to give God all the glory, for the great things he has done and continues to do in my life.

And I've already seen God working through this in the way certain things were lined up and how people were placed that have walked before us, where we as a family, are walking now. There's been conversations from unlikely places and the timing has been just right for the best outcomes in certain situations and I can't explain how those things have aligned just right without giving God the glory. Our family didn't ask to be here, but if we had to be, this is the time for it. 

I'm just so thankful that He prepared us for such a time as this. 

We're ready. Let's go. No faint hearts. Amen.