Not as in "a problem with the earth's gravitational pull", but as in "holy cow could one more thing be weighing on my mind right now??".
Last Thursday Madeline's horse was down when the girls went down to feed in the morning. We brought her up to the house and called the vet. She was not good. At one point we thought she was dying right in front of us - slow breathing, glazed eyes, wouldn't get up. The vet arrived and got her up, took her temp and did a rectal (yeah). She was constipated and likely had an intestinal blockage. He shot about a gallon of mineral oil into her and a bucket of water. By evening she was not better so we called him back for more of the same. At night we set alarms to get up and walk her a bit to make sure she was moving. Friday afternoon she was still not great so he came back and gave another injection. Saturday morning she went down again and we knew she was not going to pull out of this. The vet said he would come put her down. She was 25+ years old and he thought she might have some other underlying issue like a tumor that was keeping her from being able to pass anything. There are lots of other details that I will spare you about watching an animal that large die. It was gutwrenching. When the vet finally arrived I was so relieved to see her stop suffering. My girls sat by her head and held her and sobbed. I thought at one point that I literally couldn't take it anymore. This horse was Madeline's best friend for the past 4 years, and she has been a dream of hers since she was 4 years old. The pain of a mother watching her child suffer like that is almost unbearable. Madeline is deeply grieving as the reality of Aesha being gone sets in. She doesn't want to find another horse right now. She is sad and she is not herself.
I feel HEAVY.
Then we realize that Gabe has some stuff going on that needs to be dealt with and call the psychologist, the only one we trust, and make plans to get him into therapy. I am his mom and I don't know how to help him. I don't know what's going on in his head most of the time. I don't know how to reach him, or if he feels loved, or if he feels safe. So many things about him that I just don't know.
I feel HEAVY.
Little Sweat Pea (our foster daughter) has a new diagnosis and a new prognosis that scares the @#%!*%#%$^%$^##$^*@#@!!!! out of me. Her mom is not doing so great at getting stable. I worry what this means for her life. I worry what this means for our lives. All because of one idiotic moment.
I feel HEAVY.
I can't believe I'm saying this, but could someone please send me one of those stupid email jokes or something. I seriously need a laugh right now. No....I'm not kidding...