When Giving In Doesn't Mean You've Given Up...

One thought that has been circulating through my mind the last 24 hours as I recover from a bout of stomach upsets that lasted 4 days... When is giving in not a sign of having given up? As my life has gotten crazier and crazier the past few months, I thought, as each new item piled on, "something's gotta give."  What if what had to "give" was me?
I mean, being a mom/wife/sister/daughter I spend a lot of time GIVING of myself... but I'm not talking about that kind of give.  I'm thinking more along the lines of a reed in the wind.  If the reed doesn't bend, it will snap. To be honest, I have not bent enough with the wind that's been blowing and fear I may have already snapped in some many ways.  I have "snapped" at my husband and children, my mother and father and likely my friends too.  I have backed off of some of my responsibilities, but I did not give anything up.  For each "responsibility/commitment" I backed off of, I tripled the amount of guilt I felt.  Instead of feeling less stressed by not needing to do something or be somewhere, I felt emotionally and physically worse because I had let someone (not that I could name who) down. 
As a Catholic, I enjoy the privilege of absolution through confession-- but not once, despite an amazing confessional experience in February, did I release my guilt and blame and sense of failure.  As I ponder what "giving in" means, shouldn't I cut myself some slack here?  So far, not much of a chance until this past Wednesday.
After sending my kids off to my parents house because my stomach had again rebelled and taking a long nap, my phone rang and it was a friend I hadn't talked to since February or March. [For privacy's sake, let's call my friend Angel.]  Angel was calling because she hadn't heard from me in a while and she knew from the moment I said, "Hello" that her call was much needed.  I was feeling down and out from lack of food, sleep and general  well-being.  As I verbally "barfed" the past 3 months of my life out at her, she just listened... periodically interjecting comments like "Well of course you're worried about Sean's surgery, it's scary"-- maybe some would say she was stating the obvious... but to me she was saying "I hear you AND your feelings are valid"  and when I had exhausted all of the information of the past three months, she took a deep breath and gave me a good lecture. 
Now, when I say "lecture" please don't misunderstand that she was giving me a tongue lashing, what it was more like was a personal sermon.  She talked to me about love and humility... like so many conversations with her in the past, not only did things make sense but I was listening and making connections.  Angel didn't just talk about how much my family and friends loved me, but  brought God into the picture and talked about God's love and needing to accept that as well.  Probably why I am calling her Angel, because even though the words were her's and the syntax and lilt was her's, I am most positive that the inspiration was divine.  She knew to call me on that day and knew what I needed to hear.  It was not a sunshine in the wrong places" kind of needing to hear, but rather an"illuminating the dark places" kind of needing to hear.  Trying to quantify in words what happened between Angel and I on Wednesday afternoon is difficult and I'm sure I'm muddling it all up.  So I'll move on or rather back to Giving In.

I've found myself giving up all kinds of things in the past few months:

• those vital Mommy-Friend meet ups in coffee shops and diners, 
• posting updates on Facebook because I couldn't quantify how I was feeling and  thought that if I wasn't projecting awesomeness and perfection no one would want to know
• family time because I was too tired to give them any more of my physical time

But never once did I give in and go with the flow, each thing that was added to my schedule, list of tasks/priorities,  or obstacle (Sean's allergies and pending surgery) has filled me with fear.  I have taken on more and more and done less and less.  That's NOT how it's supposed to work.  Less work = Less Stress, right?
I reached the point in the past few weeks, when lying awake at night that I did something I thought I would never find myself doing... praying desparately to Mary.  I've said more Hail Mary's(and Our Father's) in the past few weeks than I have in my entire life.  And I firmly believe to the core of my being that Mary answered my prayers last Friday-- because it took me getting so physically ILL that I couldn't care for anyone else.  If I was a factory assembly line, we're talking complete shut down for repairs.  I was forced to Give In and relinquish command.  What happened next proved that giving in did not mean giving up.
My first instinct was to cancel the dinner plans and anything non-vital scheduled for the weekend, but my husband got out of bed, a lot earlier than he prefers, and took over. 
Of course, it took several people to replace me: 

• On Saturday My mom got my kids ready for their dance recital and took them to the recital location at the appropriate time; both my mom and MIL helped make salads and clean up after dinner.  
• On Sunday, my husband did laundry (washed, dried and folded) to prepare for the upcoming week. 
• On Monday morning, he dropped us off at my parents for the day. While my mom watched the kids, my dad took me to the  Dr. 
• On Tuesday, my parents took the kids again and left me to my own devices. 
• When  I felt worse again on Wednesday, my parents & husband rallied once more. 

Are you getting the picture yet?  I get sick and it takes 3 people working together to do my "job." And that's just the Mom job--- the paid job, that went to the wayside and I realized there was no way for me to feel guilty about it, I couldn't sit up at the computer and work.  My boss would just have to adjust (turns out, almost everyone I work with is at a conference this week, so my lack of feeding the process was not going to have a big impact!!!). 
It's clear to me now that I have to give in more... I have to bend and adjust and not be angry that life isn't fitting the "prime time/major network TV-perfect" image in  my head.  Life is not perfect or safe, but I have a great life and apparently an amazing support network.  Instead of feeling like I'm giving up (as in quitting), I need to give in to life and start living. 
Okay, this is all big talk for a small gal (well, I'm not small, but I have lost weight being sick!)... but I'm hoping you will all keep me honest and accepting of God's and my friend's/family's love with humility.  Help me give in to life and accept it for what it is... imperfectly wonderful. And remind me that self-deprication is not humility,  it's a nasty bad habit and I need to stop!