Hey IBD Mom: Yes, you. Take a breath

This week I was feeding my 9-month-old a smoothie in his highchair before I had to run to grab my older two from preschool. I realized it was an injection day, so I figured I would do my shot while the baby was in the highchair to get it out of the way. It seemed like no big deal in the moment. But as I sat there and saw the baby food next to my Humira on the kitchen table I started thinking about how life as an IBD mom may feel normal to us, but what we do each day goes above and beyond.

Then my mind started wondering. I thought about how I had taken my oldest to his outdoor fieldtrip last week and refrained from having my morning coffee or eating breakfast so I could curb my Crohn’s from causing me problems. I thought about how my 3-year-old is so intuitive if she thinks I’m in pain, she grabs my belly and pretends to put the pain into her belly, telling me “I love you mama, take a breath.”

Take a breath. Boy oh boy do mothers in general need to stop and take that advice or what? Motherhood whether you have IBD or not is the most beautiful, exhausting, and rewarding challenge. No matter what season you are in it comes with triumphs and challenges it comes with happy tears and sad ones, too. It’s a constant game of trying to manage your emotions and tap into your patience, or whatever is left of it each day. We come to forget that we are also growing up in many ways, just as our kids do.

Motherhood and IBD is a balance of wanting to be all the things but knowing that at any given moment your body can throw your life and plans upside down. There are unspoken limitations.

It’s silently worrying and praying what will happen to your family if you go down and end up in the hospital.

It’s trying to stand tall when all you may want to do is rest on the couch.

It’s seeing your children thrive and feeling so much pride you constantly feel like you can cry tears of joy at any moment.

It’s getting scared when your little one randomly says their tummy hurts.

It’s knowing that your disease robbed you of a great deal—physically, mentally, emotionally, but it didn’t rob you of the greatest gift of all, being a mom.

It’s recognizing all that is still possible, even with this grueling disease.

It’s showing up each day, not only for yourself but for your family.

It’s taking the pain and feel-good days and focusing on one moment in time that feels slow but is going by in a flash.

Take a breath. You deserve it. We weren’t meant to mother alone. Lean on your village. Voice your struggles. Cry if you want to cry. But also, don’t put yourself to unattainable expectations. You have a chronic illness and you’re a mom. Don’t push yourself to the brink. Some days will be adventure-filled, others will be spent on the couch—and that’s OK. Your children are learning from you and gaining innate intuition, and that’s a gift. They’re witnessing that health is not something to be taken for granted. They’re watching you even when you think they are not. What may feel mundane to you, is not. As an IBD mom you are juggling countless extra balls in the air that healthy mothers don’t have to think about. Give yourself credit where credit is due and take a breath.

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