I dragged myself through the door with my kindergartener in tow. I barely made it up the stairs before the urge to lie down overtook me. I crashed into the bed as my daughter rummaged through the kitchen looking for a snack. She found one before coming into the room to see me almost passed out. She snuggled up next to me as she found the TV remote. “Inside Out, Mama?” she asked. Eyes barely open, I found the movie and turned it on. We spent the next couple hours that way. Her watching the TV and grabbing different toys and things to do, and me, almost passed out, barely able to communicate with her. Eventually, I’d force myself out of bed to throw together a quick, easy dinner for my husband.
You probably think I’m describing a day I had the flu and barely survived work. In reality, I felt like I had the flu and played out this routine every day for almost four years. I was exhausted, in pain, and not at all the present mother I wanted to be. Looking back on those days, I feel sad and heartbroken that I didn’t make my girl a snack and play with her. I am weary just remembering how I’d have to force myself to manage to get through every single day. Eventually I transitioned to working from home, so the toll work took on me lessened, and I was more functional, but I was still pretty exhausted.
How did I get here?
If I’m being honest, I had been tired and in pain for most of my life. I just didn’t realize how exhausted I was until I became a working mom. At some points in my life, I had been able to handle working full-time and still managing to function. At other times, I had managed being a stay-home mom without shutting down. Combining the two was close to impossible. Working from home made me mostly functional again. I believed functional was the best I could hope for.
When I passed the one year anniversary mark at working from home, I finally felt like my career was on track, and I was doing well. Prior to that, I’d been feeling like I was constantly floundering and barely able to keep up. And I desperately wanted to keep up. For those difficult years as a parent working outside the home, what I wanted more than anything was to establish a career. Teaching was so hard for me though. Beyond making me fall into bed when I walked through the door, learning to be a teacher was just plain difficult. I almost became one of the 50% of teachers who leave the profession in the first five years. Being able to teach from home was the only thing that saved me.
God Speaks
At home, with the noise and weariness of the classroom behind me, I began to hear God speaking to me. He told me he did not mean for me to merely survive. He meant for me to thrive. Jesus said so in John 10:10b, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly (NKJV).” In my mere survival, I wasn’t using all my gifts. I wasn’t living out my own dreams. I was only doing the bare minimum. God said it wasn’t enough. I was meant for more.
At the time, I thought he meant for me to get my weight under control. I had gained a lot over the years and had tried many times to lose the weight, but I never succeeded. I just didn’t have the will power, which didn’t contribute to positive feelings about myself. But I tried again – and failed again. I tried intuitive eating – fail. I tried personality-based weight loss – fail. I told God I was sorry, but I just wasn’t able to lose the weight. I convinced myself I was still healthy, even at my size.
But God intervened. The summer before last, I went to visit family, and I was at my heaviest weight ever, but my weight had been steadily climbing for years and never really going down. I wasn’t yo-yoing – just getting heavier. I was also still trying to just survive the day. My sister hadn’t seen me in awhile, and she was concerned when she saw me. Not about my weight in particular, but my overall countenance. She said I looked tired, puffy, and just not well. I felt tired, puffy, and just not well. She made me promise to get myself to the doctor and get it figured out. And when I left, she kept badgering me through text when I got home. I’m grateful she did.
Making the Appointment
At my sister’s insistence, I did finally reach out to my doctor. They did some blood work and ended up referring me to a specialist in autoimmune diseases and a specialist in blood disorders. I had rheumatoid arthritis as a child but had been denying the existence of active disease as an adult. Well, the autoimmune specialist told me I couldn’t deny it anymore and began treating me for rheumatoid arthritis – symptoms of which are pain and fatigue (to put it mildly). The blood specialist discovered I had significant deficiencies in several different vitamins, all of which also caused fatigue. After several months of treatment for these two disorders, I did feel significantly better, but my general practitioner still felt there was more going on.
This wonderful doctor helped me discover I also have sleep apnea – guess what the biggest symptom of that is? Fatigue!! He also worked with me to figure out a treatment for my anxiety and depression symptoms. Long story short, I am now more than functional. I can say I’m at a point where I can work on living life to the fullest. God did not fail me. I still pray every day that he continues to guide me in my journey to becoming someone who uses all their gifts to serve him.
The Side Effects
Since beginning treatment and finding a path to health, I have been able to do so much more than ever before. I am able to concentrate on reading as much as I want, which used to be a struggle. I’m writing for joy again; something I hadn’t been able to do since I was much younger. I am reaching out to help others and have become much more active in my spiritual life. This is what God meant when he told me I was meant for more.
However, the most significant change I have experienced is in the realm of weight loss. I have never in my life been able to lose weight. I have never been able to keep to a diet of any kind. God has worked a miracle in me. Once I was treated for the arthritis and vitamin deficiencies, I noticed that I was losing weight – by accident. I used to never look at the scale when I went to the doctor. But I accidentally saw my weight listed on my chart several months ago, and I noticed I was down by five pounds. I wasn’t trying at all. A month later I was back for a check up, and out of curiosity, I looked at the scale when they weighed me. I was down another five pounds. I couldn’t believe it.
I wondered what would happen if I actually tried to take better care of my nutrition and exercise. I started small by just simply getting on the treadmill that my husband bought me that I’d done no more than look at for 4 months. I walked and I drank water and I logged what I ate. I didn’t try to limit – just observed. I lost about 0.5 a pound that week. The next week, I limited my calorie intake, walked, and drank water. I was down two pounds at the end of the week. Five months later I have lost 40 pounds, and I’m still going strong. I’m not on a diet. I am just aware that how I care for my body is an act of worship. “Therefore whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31 NKJV). My body belongs to God; it is my job to practice good stewardship over it.
I am so grateful to God for telling me to focus on my health, but, like a silly human, I didn’t understand what he meant or how to do it. As the loving Father he is, he placed someone in my path to push me in the right direction. He also used a whole team of amazing healthcare providers to get me where I needed to go. I am now “being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in (me) will complete it until the day of Christ Jesus (Phillipians 1:6 NKJV).
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