My dearest Ant Man,
I am so sorry you have to watch me cry. I am so sorry that I cannot get down on the floor and play with you for days at a time, sometimes weeks. I am so sorry that you have to deal with the issues that come with my multiple sclerosis for your entire life.
I know you don't understand why I can't run or walk very fast to do anything, let alone play with you. I know you don't understand why I can't get up after I lay down for a while. I know you don't understand why I have to go to bed when it's still daytime, sometimes. I can't imagine how difficult that can be for you... and it hurts me to know that this won't get any better.
All I want for you is to have a full and happy childhood. It's not fair for you to have to be stuck in the house on beautiful weekends because your mommy can't get out of bed. It's not fair that we couldn't go to the park tonight, after you were so wonderful and helpful all day, because my muscle spasms aren't letting me move farther than from the floor to the bed.
I know that you want to cuddle, but it hurts so bad to hold you. I want nothing more than to pick you up and swing you around and hug and kiss you a hundred times, but I can't even lean over to hug you. I am so sorry that I can't reach the car that rolled under the couch, and I know it was your favorite car. I'm sorry you have to eat easy microwavable meals until I recover from these spasms. I am sorry I can't take care of you the way I should.
I know that the spasms will only last a few days, and the recovery only a couple or a few weeks after, but I also know they will happen again and again. I know that this is not the first or the last of a long line of symptoms you will have to deal with for the rest of my life. For that, I am sorry.
I know you don't understand why these things are happening, and you deserve so much better. I am sorry I can't be all the mommy that I want to be to you. I'm sorry that I can't sit and help you put together your Paw Patrol puzzle. I'm sorry that when I am laying down trying to stretch my tensed muscles that you can't climb up and play. I'm sorry I can't make you fly like an airplane or take you for a walk like you saw other mommies doing out the window. I'm sorry that our quality time is currently spent with me lying on the couch or limping into the kitchen to make you some Ramen noodles.
I'm sorry that you have to deal with all of this, but I am also so very grateful that you are here. I can't thank you enough for helping me. At a month shy of 4 years, you are quite the little man. You have done every thing I have asked to help me so that I do not have to bend over or get up unnecessarily.
I am so thankful that, even though you don't understand what is wrong, you know that something is wrong and you are willing to help. If this is any indication of the man you will grow up to be, I know that you will be a great one. You are a pain in the ass, that's for sure, but you are the most amazing, helpful, and caring pain in the ass four year old child I can ever imagine.
While you are not so lucky to have a "sick" mommy, I am the luckiest mommy alive to have you. I promise you, my darling little boy, that when this round of spasming is over, I will do my best to get stronger and healthier. I will get as close to being the mommy you deserve as I possibly can.
I promise you that I will do whatever it takes. It's not fair that at four years old you have to help your mommy this much. It's not fair that you have to deal with these issues that you don't understand. I will be better for you, my little man... because you are so good to me.
I love you with all of my heart. I am sorry for all that I am going to put you through because of my illness. I will do my very best to make it as easy as possible for you, but I can't promise that the easiest I can make it will be easy.
You are an amazing little man. You truly are my very own superhero.
Thank you for taking care of things you don't understand.
Love always and forever and beyond,
Your Fat Mommy
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