Me Time — The Sanity Pact

How? How do you survive when all of the plans you once had for a family are sent into a heart-lurching tailspin with the words no parents ever want to hear about their child? How do you will yourself to keep breathing when you get that un-expected diagnosis — when you realize that nothing is ever going to be like you once thought that it would?

I imagine that the answer is different for every person, but for for my husband and me, it was a conscious decision.

I suppose that sounds simplistic — but as odd as it sounds, that's what happened. We decided together — committed together that we were going to make it. One day at a time. No matter what. And some days, as simple as that sounds, it is anything but.

We found out before she was even born.

That there were problems.

That she might not make it.

That chances were high that the day of her birth would also be the day of her death.

After two years of infertility, two medically confirmed miscarriages, and 4 unconfirmed miscarriages I had everything — everything wrapped up and tucked alongside her tiny beating heart. I wanted to shut down. Stop breathing when she did.

Except there was this tiny little glimmer of hope. That she might have a chance — a small one, just maybe…

And you can't give up on that kind of hope even when it turns you inside out, rips you apart at the seams and makes you long that your heart had never learned that there was such a soul-rending thing as hope in the first place.

But there was, and so I did. We did. And we talked. It was the talking that saved us.

One night, weeks before she was born, my husband and I talked. About everything. All of the what ifs. Including the one that neither of us could even finish out loud, but we both knew what we were talking about … "What if she…?"

Yeah. That one.

That talk is why we're still standing because on that night, "The Sanity Pact" was forged. That night we pledged that we would stick together no matter what. Even if that last horrific "what if" came to be. We pledged to keep talking to each other. To not shut down on each other. We agreed ahead of time to submit to counseling if one of us thought it was necessary. And we committed to be guardian of each other's sanity — to protect and safeguard the physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being of each other at all costs.

Over the years The Sanity Pact has evolved and enabled us to grow stronger together instead of apart. One of the rules we have is that if at any time one of us spots that "going under" look in the eyes of the other, then it results in a non-negotiable one-way ticket to an evening, a day, a week — whatever is deemed necessary — away from home. Mandatory alone time.

Crazy as it sounds, I have done things like sending my husband off for an extended fishing weekend in spite of the fact that I had a child with a trach and multiple medical challenges requiring 24-hour nursing when I was the only "nurse" available. He has done things like taking a Thursday and Friday off of work without telling me, turning my alarm off, removing the baby monitor from my room, letting me sleep until noon and then revoking all childcare related duties until the following Monday.

The examples above are for crisis management, but the goal is to not let it get that far. We also have a maintenance program. Mandatory "Me Time". Once a week we each have an evening to ourselves that has only one rule — no child-related duties. None. No meals, no baths, no bedtimes. No therapy, no laundry, no reflux-clean-up, no dressing changes. Just you and whatever makes you smile, aside from kiddos.

And I have to tell you — we're seven years into this little "Sanity Pact" of ours and we're still standing.

Can't think of a better recommendation for you than that.

So what about you? What have you done for you lately?

"We need quiet time to examine our lives openly and honestly … spending quiet time alone gives your mind an opportunity to renew itself and create order."

~Susan L. Taylor

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