pity party for 1

There are weeks when I really feel like I have a handle on things and then there are weeks when I feel the need to throw myself a giant pity party.

Based on the fact that I am writing this post, I'll give you one guess on what kind of week it has been.

This week started off with a rather disheartening trip to Asher's ophthalmologist who confirmed what we already knew, but didn't have in writing yet: Asher can't see. We were referred to this incredible organization in Milwaukee who is going to help us make the most of whatever vision he does have and that should have made me feel a little hopeful, but to be honest, it didn't. I went to a support group that night for parent's with blind children and I met a lot of really inspiring people who have taken their child's diagnoses and ran with it, making the best out of everyday. This should have lifted my heart a little bit, but instead I cried the entire drive home.

That night as I was getting ready for bed, I looked in the mirror and didn't even recognize the person staring back at me anymore. I promised myself when I started this journey that I wasn't going to let it break me. I promised myself that I would hold on to the hopeful, optimistic Kelsey who wore her heart on her sleeve and worked everyday to make others smile. And I broke that promise to myself. I was standing there looking in the mirror and all I could see was someone who was tired, so freaking tired, but more than that, she is guarded and she is sometimes a little bitter & angry. She has forgotten how to smile herself, so she definitely isn't making anyone else smile, and you can't see the hope in her eyes anymore. When you look at her, you can see the brokenness ringed in dark circles that can only be the result of constant fear, grief and worry.

And then I just got mad at myself because I hate pity party Kelsey. I hate when I can't pull myself together and focus on the wonderful things about my life: an amazing little fighter of a baby boy, the greatest family in the world, friends that would stop their entire lives just to help us, a job that cares, the list goes on and on. Why do I have such a hard time remembering that on those weeks that are harder on me?

Enter: God.

Y'all when you need a sign, He KNOWS. A friend of mine posted this on her Instagram yesterday and it was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it. A simple reminder that it is okay to feel broken and that there are better things ahead for you.

From now on, I am going to try to treat myself with a little more kindness and a little more grace. I am, unfortunately, human and not going to be able to pull myself together over night and be like okay I've got this. I know this week is not the last of my pity parties, but I am going to try to be better and when I can't be, I am going to be a little more graceful with my heart and not get so mad for not being okay. Because it is perfectly fine to feel a little broken sometimes.



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