It Won't Always Be Like This

A few weeks ago my sister shattered her elbow.

She was on an evening bike ride with her husband and six kids a few miles from home.  Her two year old daughter was strapped in the front her bike and, though she wasn't riding very fast, when she hit some gravel on the road her bike tipped.  Her two year old was secure and unharmed, but when my sister hit the pavement she heard a crack and knew it was bad.  Two hospital visits and many hours later the testing showed that her elbow broke in three places.  She had surgery two days later.

Now several weeks have passed.  She's started physical therapy and it's hard.  Each day she's fighting discouragement.  She misses lifting weights, running, driving, sleeping soundly, and even the simple - typically taken for granted - joy of having a functioning arm that doesn't hurt.

When I talk with her I often find myself thinking, and saying, "It won't always be like this."

She's not sure how much movement she'll regain or whether she'll ever lift weights the same way, but I'm confident it won't always be like this.  Her movement will improve.  The pain will subside.  And even if she's never back to 100% (how I hope that won't be the case!) she'll learn to adapt and how to do things more completely with her other arm.  She'll change how she handles her daily tasks and how she gets her workouts.  It won't always be exactly like this.

Robot arms for the one sister who has no other option.  :)

I realized that phrase has become a mantra for me over the past year.  During those first 20 weeks of pregnancy, as I fought nausea and fatigue, I would repeat to myself, "It won't always be like this.  I won't always feel like this."  It helped so much to realize that, miserable as I felt, it was temporary.

During those first few weeks with a newborn when everything was so darn new and unknown and I was recovering from an unexpected c-section I repeated to myself, "It won't always be like this."  It was so helpful, and hopeful, to remind myself that my incision would heal, we'd figure out feeding, and once we got to know Reed a bit better things would get easier.

A couple weeks after Reed was born I was diagnosed with celiacs disease.  That's a disease that will never go away: I can't have gluten for the rest of my life.  But I still find myself saying, "It won't always be like this."  We'll figure out new meals we love.  We'll know how to grocery shop and which restaurants are safe and going to parties with food won't always feel so ostracizing.  Even if the base issue is always the same - I'll always have celiacs - I'll learn to handle things better.

The saying works for the good things, too.  I've worked with the same boss for ten years now and we have a great working relationship.  Over the past couple years, as we both knew I'd soon step away to have kids, he started saying things like, "Savor this!  It'll never be quite the same again."  I'm so glad he gave me those nudges to take it all in as it was happening.

Tell us in the comments about experiences - either positive or negative - when reminding yourself that the situation was temporary proved helpful.