“I made it through another day.” That’s my mantra as I settle into bed each night. Some nights, I’m completely drained; others, I feel a bit better. Yet, I know that sleep won’t come easily, and I brace myself for a long, restless night.
Each morning begins with an all-too-familiar companion: pain. Before my partner, Jason, even rises from bed, often before dawn breaks, I’m already feeling it. This pain feels like a heavy weight pressing down on me. On good days, I simply feel achy, but on bad days, it’s as if every joint in my body is on fire. The pain is relentless and wants to conquer me, but I refuse to let it win.
For a time, I denied my fibromyalgia diagnosis. It felt like a throwaway label. I urged my physician, Dr. Kelly, to run more tests, convinced I had to have a different condition. It took my first severe flare-up for me to accept reality: I have fibromyalgia, and this is the life I’m living.
I remember our trip to Seaside Heights, where Jason and I strolled the boardwalk in chilly April weather. The cold seeped into my bones, and despite my efforts to warm up, it was in vain. I wanted to enjoy our rare weekend alone, so I pushed through. By dinnertime, however, I could feel the toll it was taking. My appetite vanished, and the thought of food made me feel nauseous. I forced myself to nibble, creating excuses for my lack of appetite. That night was torture; pain coursed through my body, and sleep eluded me.
Upon returning home, I realized I couldn’t keep living like this. My children, Lily and Max, had grown accustomed to seeing Mommy unable to do everything. They’ve witnessed me curled up on the couch, tears streaming down my face, unable to escape the pain. While they do their best to help, sometimes they take on more than they should.
As their mother, I want to take them on walks, chase them around the park, and swim without feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck the next day. This realization fuels my anger and determination. I may not have the life I dreamed of, but I will fight with everything I’ve got.
I used to be the mom who led her kids on hiking adventures, rode bikes, and played sports. We were an active family. Now, my twin boys run around the house, wanting me to join their fun. On some days, I can muster the energy. I let household chores slide and focus on creating joyful memories instead. Sure, we might not have clean clothes tomorrow, but we had a blast today. Every day, I choose between what must be done and what I wish to do. I know I can’t do it all — those days are in the past.
I meticulously track my activities and diet now. I rely on various supplements and medications that barely take the edge off my discomfort. Accepting that pain-free days are a thing of the past has been hard. Sometimes, I can’t remember what it feels like to be without pain, and that thought is frightening.
The fear of reaching a breaking point looms over me. I’ve had days where the pain is unbearable, and I silently scream for relief. Yet, I always find the strength to push through because my family relies on me. I refuse to give up. I will keep fighting.
As I settle in for the night, I remind myself, “You did it. You made it through another day.” For more insights on coping with these challenges, check out one of our other blog posts here. And if you’re looking for reliable resources regarding artificial insemination, consider visiting this page or check out this excellent online retailer for at-home insemination syringe kits.
In summary, living with fibromyalgia is an ongoing journey filled with challenges and moments of joy. While I may not be the mom I once was, I continue to find strength in my family and the love we share. Each day is a testament to my resilience, and I embrace every moment I can.
Leave a Reply