Let Me Tell You About My Shoulder

It hurts a deep, lingering ache that’s become part of my daily rhythm. Some nights, it burns. Other nights, it just throbs quietly, reminding me that love real, ❤️enduring love leaves its marks.

You see, my shoulder has carried Ethan for years. At 22, my boy still can’t sleep alone. Ethan has Lennox-Gastaut Syndrome (LGS) a rare and severe form of epilepsy that brings unpredictable seizures, often without warning. It’s the kind that changes everything sleep, routine, safety, peace of mind.

So, I sleep beside him every night, not because he’s a child, but because he still needs to be watched, monitored, and protected. His body sometimes betrays him in the middle of the night. And no matter how tired I am, no matter how many times we’ve been through it, I stay right there listening, waiting, praying that this night will be gentle.

We have a nice, comfy bed, but to Ethan, I’m not just mom I’m his teddy bear, his safe place. Every night he rolls, flops, or throws himself on top of me, pressing into my right shoulder like it’s made just for him. That poor shoulder has taken years of impact from hugs that feel like tackles, from middle-of-the-night jerks, from holding him through storms his body can’t control.

It’s wear and tear but not from age. From love.

From mothering a child whose body fights battles in his sleep.

Sometimes I wake up sore, stiff, and exhausted.

Sometimes I cry into my pillow because I want to rest really rest. But then I see him breathing peacefully beside me, and I remember: this shoulder has kept him safe. This pain is proof that I’m still showing up even when no one sees the cost.

Lennox-Gastaut has taken much from us 😩 normalcy, independence, easy nights. But it has also taught me the strength of surrender. The power of presence. The kind of love that aches, yet still chooses to stay.

So yes, my shoulder hurts.

But it’s sacred. It’s the mark of every night we survived.

Every seizure endured. Every morning we woke up still together.

Because love like this isn’t light it’s heavy, raw, and real.

And yet, it’s the most beautiful weight I’ll ever carry. 💜