Breathing Deeply: My Life With Cystic Fibrosis

I've spent the better part of the afternoon and evening contemplating my navel. Some days I really get quite down about having CF, and it seems like my depressive mood follow hot on the heels of some over-stimulating activity.

Today I went to a baby shower for my friend Liz--the first baby shower I can recall ever having been to. I had a wonderful time, and it was awesome to see so many ladies from multiple generations within our church come together to honor Liz and celebrate the incredible change her life (and her husband Clay's!) is about to take.

When I got home I was truly overwhelmed with emotion. Many of my friends are now having babies, and although I'm not really experiencing jealousy over it, I think I'm experiencing more of a sort of grief about my own loss in that department. Don't get me wrong, I am very thrilled for my friends who are new mommies and soon-to-be mommies...I just don't quite know how to process all of that, especially when juxtaposed with my own thoughts and feelings about whether or not Brad and I could or should be parents at some point.

For about an hour or so I launched into your basic female over-reaction to my own emotions. There are some days when I feel like I'm walking around with a big sandwich board sign that reads "I have Cystic Fibrosis and some days just suck because of it". I constantly feel like I have to give additional effort on certain things in order to make up for the times when CF slows me down. I've even wondered what in the world could possibly be so worthwhile about me that Brad would commit his life to me, without giving it a second thought.

Brad patiently and assertively reminded me that even when I feel like I'm nothing more than a walking science project, he loves me for me. CF is just something I have--like red hair and that goofy little freckle on the bottom of my right foot.

This evening I found the following, entitled a letter to my husband. It was written a few years back by a woman who married a man with CF. I cried as I read it, and it finally sank in that how she feels about her husband must be how Brad feels about me. He must love me. He didn't marry a science project. He married a human being who is every bit as worthy and capable of a fulfilling life as anyone else.

Below are the words to "You Must Love Me" from the musical, "Evita". Eva sings this song as her husband helps her home from the hospital after she is told that she is dying of cancer. I think of this song often when I realize that Brad is by my side voluntarily. God certainly picked out an incredible man for me.