I don’t accept it
Me: (awaking anxiously) Are you alright?
Her: I thought I died.
The night terrors have slowed down but haven’t stopped. But for better or worse they’re happening at home because Alison came home this week.
She’d been in the hospital for over a month. When she went in, the kid was just over 32 days old. He’s now more than twice that age and over twice as big.
When she first got home, she couldn’t look at him. Not long, anyway. She’d start to cry. Because he reminds her of what she’s missed out on. What she’s lost.
In some ways, that perfectly encapsulates what’s happened in the last two months.
The women that gave birth to him is not the woman here now. The woman that gave birth to him was a normal weight, with long blond hair, and an easy laugh. She was doing pregnancy work-out videos in the weeks leading to delivery.
Now, she’s only 100 pounds. Bald. With a foot-long scar encircling her head and another six-inch scar going from the top of her head to the base of her neck. She rarely smiles, let alone laughs.
And she sits in a wheelchair. She has little use of her left side. She’s a shadow of the person she was.
I hope. I hope there’s some way she can be that person again. I believe she can be that person again.
In my gym, we get yelled at a lot. It’s not a place for the soft.
And we each get yelled at for specific things. For example, I get yelled at for accepting what’s called a “pass.”
Coach: Don’t accept it, don’t accept that pass!
Me: He was 99% passed!
Coach: (angrily) That means 1% not passed! 99 is not 100! You fight for that 1%. You don’t give up until it’s done. You’re not done at 99%! (kicks me)
And so it is here.
I don’t accept it: The prognosis. The statistics. This life. I refuse to accept any of it. Not for her, not for me.
Whatever the percentage we have, I refuse to accept it. We’ll fight until it’s done, whenever that may come.
Me: You didn’t. You’re still here. And you’re gonna be keep being here as long as you keep fighting, ok?
Me: Go back to sleep. I’ll be here the whole time.
I’m so grateful that I have them supporting us. I’d have gone full raving without them.