Don’t Be Afraid to Live

I have a lot to be grateful for this year. I know I do. Waking up with my husband, kids, and I under one roof has been all I wanted for 2 and half months. And 2 days before the holiday of giving thanks, I got my wish.

But it’s hard not to be afraid.

Over 2 years ago, Ian was first diagnosed with his brain tumors. When they told us he had “too many to officially count,” I thought for sure we were too late. That it was malignant and spread. But that ended up not being the case. Nearly 3 months ago now, one of the tumors doubled in size and then hemorrhaged the day after finding the growth. I, again, thought for sure we were going to lose him. But again, that wasn’t the case.

And even though things turned out okay, I can’t help but also feel afraid. Afraid because things that I thought would never happen, did happen.

So how do we not let fear take over?

No matter what kind of fear you are facing, whether fear of rejection, fear of a secret being exposed, or fear of your child’s cancer being fatal, it can rob you of your happiness. While it’s perfectly normal to be afraid of something, it’s not okay when it holds you back from living your life.

For nearly all of my life, I’ve been in so many different scenarios where I let fear hold me back from so many different things. Personally, I overcame it thanks to my kiddos. I never wanted them to be afraid of anything, whether it be fear of being themselves, being accepted by peers, or being afraid of the doctor… And while I know I can’t possibly protect them from EVERY fear, the one thing I can do is be a role model for them. If I’m afraid of being myself, they will be too. If I’m afraid to be rejected, they will be too. If I’m afraid to try new things, they will be too. If I’m afraid to speak up and go after the things I want, they will be too. Because they learn from me. Even though it’s a realization I’ve just had recently, it’s never too late to change.

Our families have been asking to take Ian places since we’ve been home. And I’ve been so scared to let him go. I thought it was because he’s not as self-sufficient as he used to be. And while he’s getting better every single day, it’s still a lot right now. He can’t walk well so he needs a wheelchair. He’s still relearning how to use the bathroom so if he goes in public, chances are there isn’t a changing table big enough for us to lay him on. (At least that I know of since I’m new to this handicap thing.) And little man is heavy. I’m talking half my weight (literally) and tall- he actually went up 2 sizes from when we first got admitted in the hospital to now. But today after my mom took him for about an hour, I realized what it was that had me so afraid: Ian wasn’t with me when he spiraled 11 weeks ago. He was with my in-laws. I wasn’t there for him. And there was a point in the hospital I thought sending him off with them would be the last time I got to see him awake. Running and jumping around. At a normal, mental state. The next time I would see him after that, he wasn’t fully there. And then they put him in the medically induced coma. It took a while for me to realize this, but I think subconsciously my body knew. My body was feeling it, but my mind was trying to protect me and make me forget it happened.

But that’s not something I’ll ever be able to forget. It was easily the scariest time of my life. But the thing about the low points in life is that it makes you appreciate the high moments so much more. Even just sitting at home has felt different for me. “Home” has a new meaning for me after all of this. It’s partially a place. But it’s also partially a feeling. Wherever we are all together, that is our home. The location can change. But as long as we have each other, home is in our hearts. Spread through our love of one another. But our physical home now, our house, is much more to me now. It’s a place of hope. A place of peace. A place of unconditional love. And I’ve loved cleaning and decorating it since we’ve been out of the hospital- spreading my appreciation for this place with every touch and hoping the energy flows through our home seamlessly.

I don’t want fear to dictate the life I live. I don’t fear to dictate the life my kids live. I especially don’t want Ian to be afraid because of his brain tumors. He has endured so much in his little life already. I don’t want him to just sit in his bedroom worrying about what’s going to happen tomorrow. I don’t want that for me, either. Worrying does nothing but stop us from being happy. Even if you worry about bad things happening, that doesn’t stop them from happening. It also doesn’t mean they actually will. I know it’s hard not to sometimes, especially in certain circumstances, but what good does it do to drown in your own thoughts? Why waste time worrying to the point of mental and physical exhaustion when you could be spending that time making the moments count. Making memories to hold on to later on down the road. Which would you rather look back on? Good moments you already have or regretting things you wish you would’ve done? That choice is up to you.

Don’t let fear win. Don’t be afraid to live your life.