At My Bravest.

To follow up on my "If I Were More Courageous" post, I decided I should think about when I have had great courage.

• I gave birth to Oliver. Delivering him is the hardest thing I have ever done, physically, emotionally, and mentally. I had to fight my body's absolute insistence on pushing; Oliver was in danger when I pushed. I followed directions. I had no time or strength to scream or shout. I felt no sense of community with the countless women who have given birth. I was alone in it, and I couldn't give up. I just thought of breathing and getting oxygen to my baby.  

•  I breastfed. I was afraid I couldn't produce enough milk to help our 5 1/2-pound baby gain weight, especially since I was supporting our family. Somehow, I pumped enough, and he plumped up, and I breastfed him for thirteen months. For a while, two weeks maybe, it was incredibly painful--the gasping-and-tears-spring-to-your-eyes kind of pain. I didn't think I could go on. But I did it, and I'm grateful that I had the chance. 

•  I gave a public reading in a small auditorium at Queens. I read several poems from my thesis. Mom let me wear her enchanted emerald silk blouse. I felt the audience connecting with me. My thesis advisor later told me that he received compliments about me. Mom and Dad were there, and Melissa and Steve came, which meant a lot. I hadn't shared much of my poetry with any of them.  

•  I taught a seminar on journaling, also during my graduating residency. I was brave enough to focus on one of the most important elements of my life. And apart from day camp Bible classes, I'd never taught before. 

•  I applied to a community college. I taught my first class, and though I had no idea how I would handle it, it went remarkably well. I knew I'd found the right work. 

•  I left my job, first as a medical leave of absence and then permanently. We had very little money and no plan, but Mom and Josh knew I couldn't go back; I was too sick. We got a lot of help, but it was scary. 

•  I've advocated for Oliver since he was diagnosed with autism at age four. I took him to so many doctors and therapists for diagnoses and treatment. I met with teachers and got Oliver into ore-K for EC. I took him to the children's neurologist, I spent a year getting Oliver into ABA. I do not do well in meetings. Mom came sometimes to back me up, especially when I got completely overloaded.  

• I saw a psychiatrist, a psychologist an a  counselor. I was afraid to confirm my fear that no one could (or would) help me. None of these ongoing appointments are easy for me. I push myself to show up, to tell the truth of my experience, and to continue reaching for the help I need.

Really, I'm brave every day. I drive the car, which makes me very nervous. I drop off and pick up, I get out of bed, I shower (and put on makeup on a decent day!),  I take my medicine, I interact with others, I go to appointments. I live, hour by hour.