For these past two years, I have been told over and over again how I am such a positive person. I am always smiling and always talkative and loving. That when I speak to people or am around people.you can’t tell that I am going through such a horrible thing. These are all things that I have been told to my face. Especially the “You are so positive” comment.

You see, I have always been a bubbly, positive way of life, fun and talkative type of person. I have always been the one to speak up and take charge. I have always been the one that hates attention, but likes to be involved. I love being a part of everything. I love to just get in there and work and get things done. I love it.

But when I found out about our son during our pregnancy, I was changed. Something in me switched from a happy go lucky pregnant glowing mama to a hard core, don’t tell me there is no hope, my son WILL survive if its the last thing I do, threatening and fighting for sons life to death-kinda mom. I became a warrior. I became a mom warrior. Every week we received such bad news about Matthew. There were even a few appointments where they told us his twin sister Callia was in danger as well. It was the most difficult time of my life. I didn’t get a chance to enjoy life or enjoy the pregnancy.

Then came their birth. And for about two weeks, I was in a daze. I honestly don’t remember much. I really don’t. Sometimes I will have a flashback of something that I couldn’t remember before. Or when my husband or mother or sister will talk about about those first few days, I will have no idea what they are talking about. It was almost like I had blocked it out of my memory.

For about 4 months, I was a zombie. I was in that zombie-like state. I couldn’t function as a human. I could barely eat. I didn’t want to socialize with anyone. I didn’t want to be here or there. I didn’t want to live. I was broken. Something in me broke during those four zombie months. And then came the last time that Matthew was sick in the NICU. The ever famous day I gave Matthew back to God. I accepted his sickness and accepted that whatever happens to Matthew, he never belonged to me. He was always in Gods Hnads and he was borrowed. The Lord allowed me to keep Matthew after that. Which is why I try my hardest to give God all His glory that He deserves.

It was at this time that I once again, became a Mom Warrior.

Fast forward to now. Now two years later from the diagnosis day. Two years after I first became that Mom Warrior. I am tired. I am hurting. I am so so tired. I won’t give up this fight. I wont!! But I am so tired.

So tired…. I cant even finish this post… lol.

good night.