I'm going to tell you about how awesome my parish is and how much I appreciate all that everyone did today, but first I'm going to start at he beginning of my day when Patrick woke up at 6:05 and I was still trying to squeeze my eyes shut and steal a few more moments of sleep.
Last week we did have the flu, but this was something that could remedied with my inhaler. Which is when excuse #2 reared it's ugly head. Could I do Mass with the three kids by myself if my asthma was acting up? What if I felt faint again? What if I actually fainted? What if I fainted and the hospital tried to call Paul and he slept through it?
I was stretching, looking for reasons to not go.
And then I realized what I was doing and stopped myself. No. The default is that we go. And no imaginary illness was going to change that. We were going to Mass... even if it was a disaster like last time and I spent the entire time trying to hold on to the three unruly children who'd all chosen the same day to go completely insane.
So I got up and wrangled the babies into appropriately warm clothing and got them out the door and we hurriedly walked to our parish, while I worried that we were running late. We got there just in time. A woman who I recognized from last time smiled warmly at us and I hoped that this time I wouldn't be rushing past her on my way out with tears in my eyes.
We made our way towards a pew and Mae started to howl, so we retreated to the narthex. Not a promising start.
She sat with us through Mass and Mae was happy to sit and hold her hand and admire her new friend's finger nail polish, and I was able to get Patrick to sleep.
As I sat there, and actually heard a good portion of Mass, I began to realize something.
I'm horrible at asking for help, and I'm nearly as bad at accepting it. I guess in reality, it's a sort of pride that I struggle with. I feel like I should be able to do everything I need to do, without asking for or accepting help. I know that a large part of it is that I don't want to bother or impose on anyone else.
In some ways Mae's diagnosis has made it easier for me to ask for help. I've come to realize that I can't do this entirely on my own and that that's okay.
Baby steps. Accepting help can be humbling. I find it incredibly difficult. And yet I am so grateful for the kindness and help we received today.
I have a feeling I'm not going to be quite as nervous when we set out for Mass next week!