Resiliency

 
"Resiliency" has been the buzz word in our house these last few weeks. It's not an easy skill but one I feel my kids need growth in. Today that was a hard lesson for Grace. We had planned to go ride our bikes to their friend's houses and covertly chalk messages on their sidewalks for thanksgiving. It was beautiful out today and kids were excited.

Grace was supposed to pump her tire but by the time I came back she said she refused to come with us. She couldn't get her tire pumped and she was mad because her bike fell over and said she wouldn't come. End of story. 

So I gave her a second choice. If she didn't go on the bike ride she wouldn't get any screen time. Needless to say, she decided to come bike riding. She cried the entire time. She said she didn't have enough energy. She was dehydrated. She managed to fall off her bike. But I knew it was really about the fact that she got frustrated and didn't want to push past that. 

On the bike ride I remembered Grace's bone marrow transplant. Immediately after she relapsed she was inpatient with heavy duty chemo for five weeks straight. The chemo tightened her muscles and it became painful for her to walk. And staying in bed all day from feeling sick and tired causes the muscles to atrophy, compounding the pain and difficulty she was already experiencing. 

The oncology nurses had started a program that every wednesday they would put a stash of treats at each nurse station to encourage the kids to walk the halls. Grace cried with every step and my heart broke with each cry. But I knew how important it was for her body and mental wellbeing.

Next Grace went through radiation that tightened her muscles even more. The bone marrow transplant kicked my strong, tenacious, dare-devil-of-a-daughter to the mat. When she walked I had to completely support her so she wouldn't fall. When she became too weak to walk I would carry her. I had to lift her into and out of her baths. Walking down the hall stopped being a possibility, she couldn't walk across her hospital room without intense crying from the pain. Several times the physical therapist recommended getting Grace a wheelchair and I repeatedly declined.

Grace was exhausted, in pain, and vomiting all day long. Still, Chad and I decided she should continue school work with a hospital tutor*. Physical therapy was agonizing for her but Chad and I decided it was for her best. Not because we needed her to keep up with school, or because we needed her physically fit... it was because we understand Grace better than she knew herself at the time. We believed in her more than she did at the time.

Grace is fiercely competitive. Her teachers tell me they've never met anyone like her. Her karate teacher pushes her because he know she loves a challenge, like the time she was the only kid to climb the rope to ring the bell at the top...while on chemo. She only rides the most terrifying rollercoasters. She was almost kicked out of private school in first grade for mocking the teacher. Her teacher was reviewing kindergarten that first week, so Grace rationalized she knew more than her teacher did so she shouldn't have to listen to her. The only way we could get her to eat her veggies as a toddler was to try to eat faster than her. She can't handle being second in anything. She's first at being competitive. 

And Chad and I knew that if she recovered from her bone marrow transplant and went back to school, she wouldn't be able to mentally handle having the worst grades in class because she missed second grade. We knew being in a wheelchair would be more frustrating for her than the pain she would have learning to walk again. Those things might break her. But we knew that as painful as it was, staying in school and exercising wouldn't. Again, only because she's Grace. I don't think I'd do it that way for another child, but we knew Grace and what she would want a year later.

And that's what I had decided about the bike ride. I want her to learn resiliency because I know life is full of sucker punches and I want my kids to get back up after they've gone down. Grace said I was unfair and pushing too hard, even though it was a 1 mile round-trip ride we make all the time. She said she hated me. But I was determined that this was an opportunity for her to learn how strong I believe she is, and to prove to herself that she is more resilient than she believed.  

We made it back home. 

Not long ago, I thought God was being unfair to put so much on my shoulders. Obviously Grace suffered physically more than I ever have, but my mental anguish was to my breaking point. The testing of my faith left me barren. My mental health became so broken that I'm still on antidepressants three years later. I still shudder to imagine having to endure a time like that again. I'm so afraid I won't be strong enough. And I often wonder if I'm strong enough to be an advocate for the SSFL cleanup.

I love Grace enough to have pushed her to what she believed her limits were. Because I know it's what she needs, I know she can handle it, and I know that looking back she would be thankful. And God loves me even more than I love Grace. He didn't cause Grace's cancer, but he used it. He saw an opportunity for me to grow past what I believed my limits to be. He knew it would be good for me. He knew I could handle it, though it was excruciating. He knew looking back that I would be thankful to not be the same person I was five years ago. 

And there's still a very alive sliver of my heart that is afraid of God for allowing me to hurt that badly. But everything he knew then, I am grateful for now, though some of my wounds are still raw and tender. 

Later this afternoon I reminded Grace about how I pushed her so hard to stay active during cancer. And she said thank you, which amazed me. And today, though she was furious with me, I know that pushing her past her comfort is what she needed. That healthy pain teachers her how to become a strong, mature, and resilient woman. 

And after we got home we ate popcorn and drank hot chocolate and I got to tell both kids how proud I was of them. And Grace was proud of herself. 

And I am thankful for that.

* Though we pushed Grace during her cancer treatment, it was still within her capacity. Her inpatient tutor mostly read stories to her, no intense learning and no homework. The tutor worked only with hospital kids and knew what a good limit was. Her painful time in physical therapy was under medical supervision and they knew how to challenge her without injuring her. I just want to point that out because I'm an A-type personality. I often think that I'm not working hard enough unless I come out injured. And that's not healthy either. And I found God doesn't want me to be injured. He wants me to be the fullest version of me possible, even if it's painful for a while, and he knows what my limits are as well...though they're much bigger than what I believed them to be.