Composure.

I had a moment today.

One of those moments where you're vulnerable and ugly cry in front of people you really don't even know (little s' mops teachers to be precise).

It was a very brief moment, thankfully.

And I'm hoping no one saw the aftermath of that moment as I drove home from MOPS this afternoon.

They would have seen my babies giggling in the back (which almost never happens, usually it's screaming) while I'm attempting to discreetly sob I while driving down Old Bridge.

I'm supposed to be composed.

I feel like, at 23, I have so much more to prove.

I should be a good mom.

My kids should be well behaved.

And I should be strong for my baby girl.

But today, I was not composed.

And it wasn't just one thing that put me over the edge.

Maybe it's Rae's upcoming surgery, or appointment at KKI next week.

Maybe it was Little S having his first week of preschool and becoming increasingly aware of just how BOY he is.

Maybe it was obsessing over Little S and his pushing.

Maybe it was being stressed out over my upcoming half marathon.

Maybe it was knowing I was going home to sticky floors and more laundry than I can wrap my head around.

Maybe it was worrying about Big S having a hard week at work.

I don't know exactly what made me have a moment today.

But one thing is for sure:

I am not composed.

I am a mess.

Our MOPS theme this year is "Be you, bravely."

I did share with my table some of what we have been through with Rae. I shared part of my "mess" (if I was entirely honest, it would have been a synopsis of my entire life), but I think the bravest thing I could have done was not hold back. I wanted to cry as I talked about the first time she was in the hospital. I wanted to scream how unfair it is that next week I will be filled with fear every single day as she has a meeting with a doctor who could tell us exactly what's going in in her body. And then the next day I'll have to hand her off to a doctor for the fourth time and have zero control while she's under anesthesia. The next day will decide if she needs orthotics to help her balance and walk, another major adjustment for her. I wanted to sob that I KNOW, God's got this. I know that even if we spend the rest of our days not knowing what the root of all of Rae's issues are, that we will keep fighting for her.

I put on my brave face for her at every appointment. Every needle stick for lab work, every uncomfortable procedure, every new doctor, every nurse visit, every therapy, I keep it together.

But if I was truly brave, I would have told my ladies I am not composed.

What's happening in my life right now is HARD.

It's the hardest thing I've ever done.

I have no control.

The only thing that keeps me fighting is knowing that God IS in control. And He cares for our family more than I can wrap my head around.

I know it sounds backwards to shout how terrified I am and claim it as bravery, but for me, this is the bravest it gets.

I'm a little vulnerable here, as I imagine most parents are when it comes to their kids.

When you get married and start a family you don't think "oh hey, I can't wait to only see my husband for an hour before the kids go to bed." Or "I can't wait to find out my son is THAT kid in his class" or "I can't wait to spend at least 2 days a week with doctors prodding at my daughter.".

Being brave is letting down that wall and telling you: I am not composed. I feel like a mess. And the only way I keep my head above water is by opening my Bible.

"Be strong and courageous . Do not be afraid, and do not be dismayed, for The Lord your God is with you." Joshua 1:9

M