{"id":12462,"date":"2018-01-29T15:30:18","date_gmt":"2018-01-29T21:30:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/happyyouhappyfamily.com\/?p=12462"},"modified":"2024-01-18T06:31:55","modified_gmt":"2024-01-18T12:31:55","slug":"love-your-children","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/happyyouhappyfamily.com\/love-your-children\/","title":{"rendered":"Did I Say “I Love You” Enough to Last a Lifetime?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Inside: At the age of 31, with two boys to raise, with a nursing career, and in the middle of training for a half marathon, a stroke was not on my agenda. But this is what it taught me about how to love your children.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within three months, my world turned upside down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d had a cryptogenic stroke, which left me with Broca’s aphasia and apraxia. Aphasia<\/em> and apraxia<\/em> are just fancy medical terms for saying that my expressive communication – speaking and writing – was devastatingly<\/strong> affected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the age of 31, with two boys to raise, with a nursing career, and in the middle of training for a half marathon, a stroke was not on my agenda. Strokes very rarely affect someone of my age, but more important than my age was the age of my two children: 4 years old and 15 months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My kids were much too little, and they needed their mother.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\"When
This was taken two weeks after my stroke when I was allowed my first day pass out of the hospital.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n

This is what was left of me.<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Three days after my stroke, the shock had subsided and the gravity of what disabilities I had been left with came into focus. As much as I tried, communication with the rest of the world was not<\/strong> coming back as easy as I would have liked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My sister was at my bedside, as she was most of the time that I spent in the hospital. We were working on my speech rehabilitation, which was essentially what you would learn in early elementary school. She was reading out sentences that I was supposed to attempt to write.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat cross-legged on my hospital bed with a note pad, trying to write “The dog was black.” I couldn’t do it.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

After what seemed like an hour, I scribbled “dog black.” I knew<\/em> that wasn’t correct. I knew<\/em> I had missed the connecting words of a sentence, but I had no idea<\/strong> what they were. My internal dialogue could say this simple sentence, but when I opened my mouth or put pen to paper, all I could muster was “dog black.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

And then, clarity.<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I could feel the sting of tears welling up in my eyes and the lump rising in my throat. But at that very moment, I was not frustrated, I was not feeling sorry for myself, and I was not overwhelmed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All I could think of is: What was the last<\/strong> thing I wrote to my boys? What was the last<\/strong> thing I told them? Would they remember any of the things that I had taught them?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I surely did not give them enough encouragement, enough words of praise, and enough words of wisdom to get them through to adulthood. I surely did not say “I love you” enough to last a lifetime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had written letters to my boys since the day they were born, detailing their lives. But as life has gotten busier, the letters had been few and far in between. What if I could never write to them again? They needed<\/strong> to know how perfect and how miraculous they are to me. I needed to tell them they are enough, I loved them more than anything, and my heart beats for them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bonus:<\/strong> As a bonus for joining my weekly newsletter, get a free cheat sheet<\/a> of 75 positive things to say to your child that will make them feel loved.<\/p>\n\n\n