Fight for Joy: The Mental Front

When Nathan and I received a prognosis for Caiden from a reputable neurologist in New York, he carefully suggested we might want to consider halting the process toward adoption. Looking back, he wasn’t being insensitive, he just wanted to be sure we understood what we were taking on. The words “Caiden will likely be a spastic quadriplegic and require nursing care for the rest of his life.” As an RN, I knew exactly what he meant. Just thinking about that day brings me back to that small white room, with white lights and the toys my son would never be able to play with in the typical sense. Tears and slight nausea are brought on by this memory. That day sent me into a tailspin of emotions and endless negative thoughts of the future. I remember thinking my life is over. And this thought haunted me for a long while and the fear that followed brought me to my knees.

What is the singular negative thought that repeats in your mind like a broken record? If you don’t know, it’s time to find out. Your life, the life you truly want to be living, hinges upon what you think next. Because your thoughts are quite possibly the only thing you can ever control. I believe if you can control your thoughts then you can change your attitude, which will subsequently change your mood and emotions. The mental battlefront is where we will do most of our fighting in the war against joylessness and it’s where our focus will be this week.

The scary thought, my life is over, triggered a desperate striving to regain control of my circumstances.  Instead of challenging the thought, I chose instead to challenge the facts. My solution was to change the outcome and fix my “broken” boy. Admitting the shameful truth now is humbling but necessary and I hope it encourages you to be truthful with yourself about your thought life.  I thought I could avoid a dismal future if I rehabilitated my son into an acceptable degree of disability, one that my brain could handle. I didn’t mind a special need here or there, but full-blown dependence on nursing care was terrifying. I pictured the absolute worst-case scenario: Caiden bedbound, tubes everywhere, endless seizures, and my boy essentially in a vegetative state, unaware of his surroundings or me. As a registered nurse, my imagination was especially detailed and accurate. So, I went all in with Caiden’s early intervention services and dedicated every waking moment to exercising, stretching, and “repairing” him. Please do not misunderstand, there is nothing wrong with therapeutic rehabilitation. It’s absolutely the responsibility of every parent to give their child, his/her best chance of achieving his/her fullest potential. But when this happens at the expense of overall well-being, this endeavor becomes problematic.  The problem was not my efforts to improve my child’s outcomes, it was my mindset. 

Truthfully, I had thought if I could simply fix Caiden, then my life would not be over, we could skip suffering and be happy.  But no matter what or how hard I tried I could not get Caiden to roll, crawl, sit, stand, walk, grasp or speak. Nothing worked. Then a flurry of other thoughts emerged: I’m a failure, I’m not trying hard enough, I’m not a good mother, I was never meant to be a mom, etc. Moreover, a thought that had been long-gone, and whose origins I believed had been healed, was resurfacing. I am damaged goods.  All this toxic thinking was leaving me drained and dreading the next moment. I became physically ill and unable to cope with any more bad news. Ironically, bad news is what helped change the course of my thoughts.

When Caiden was four, after moving to South Carolina, his new neurologist gently asked, “have you ever heard of SUD?” He explained SUD, Sudden Unexplained Death, is a phenomenon that tragically occurs with children like Caiden who have severe epilepsy. There is no clear explanation or evidence upon autopsy as to the cause of death. These children are simply here one minute and then gone the next. Done. This news woke me up. Here, I had been dreading a difficult future of caring for Caiden, and worrying who would care for my son upon my demise. But the future is neither a certainty, nor definitively difficult. Clearly, my thoughts on the future were ruining my present.  I right then began a pursuit to change my thoughts. “… Be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Romans 12:2) became my focus. I could not go on dreading the days ahead and missing out what was right in front of me, my deliciously adorably joyful boy! Like I have said in past posts, Caiden was oblivious to the tragedy of what he was “missing”. He simply lived and enjoyed life as he knew it.  This life was enough for him. Could I let it be enough for me?

My mind slowly shifted toward enjoying the moment and living in the present. “This is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it!”(Psalm 118: 24) became my song.  All we have is this moment and what we choose to make of it. 

Of course, worry does not disappear, but I now choose to challenge it and take it captive! Basically, I make every toxic thought my bitch. You heard me right! The power I have been given as a child of God was being wasted on needless worry.  These toxic thoughts, I now place under my authority as a daughter of the Most High LIVING God. I choose thoughts that affirm the truth; my loving Heavenly Father hand-picked me to be Caiden’s mom.  This was not a random event, especially not in my case. In adoption, I was given the unique opportunity to choose Caiden to be my son. I again recall the moment his first neurologist suggested we could consider stopping the adoption.  Yet now, I remember my response had been “this is not a gift I cannot return”. I knew then, somehow by grace, that I was capable and would be an excellent mother to Caiden! My mind simply had to catch up to my faith. I now continually choose to accept the gift of my son with all the challenges and suffering attached. He is my GIFT, not my burden.  This gift is what I need to grow and become the person I was created to be.

This mindset is my new reality.  I have not been cursed, I have been blessed with Caiden. This truth, however, does not make the suffering vanish, but it makes me better able to cope and overcome the difficulties. “In the world you will have trouble but fear not for I have overcome the world” (John: 16: 33). It’s true, my family is more challenged than most, but we are also stronger than most.  Because we have endured a lot, we are capable of enduring more than most.  When doubt creeps in, I do not try to figure out my situation with logic, but I challenge it with Truth. Logic dictates that this life with disability is too hard, therefore unsatisfactory. But Truth says life with disability challenges me to find new ways to live.  How I think about my life changes my life!

So, what do you do with all this info? Take stock.  What are you thinking? A fine time to pay attention to your thoughts is when you feel anxious. Ask yourself, what do I fear most? Whatever the answer, make that thought your captive.  In captivity, waterboard this enemy with the truth.  What is the truth? The truth is, you are stronger than you think and with a tiny bit of faith, “[you] can do all things through Christ who strengthens you”(Philippians 4:13). Remember, this is the Christ who suffered, died and resurrected for you and me. And this Jesus Christ believes you can rely on this kind of strength—the kind that knows real pain and has overcome it. Don’t really believe in God? That’s ok, you can begin with faith in what is good. And it is so good for you to think you are capable to do what is not easy! It is GOOD for you to be encouraged with life-giving words and do your best for you and your child.

Next week, I will attempt to show you practical ways to change your thoughts one at a time. Until then, God bless!