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I am exhausted. Like really and truly exhausted. Both physically and emotionally.

My husband was in the hospital a few weeks ago. He was in for about a week. He had a leg infection, and at the time, they thought he had sepsis. I'm not a doctor or a nurse (he is, but I'm not,) but I know that sepsis is bad. I also know enough not to Google such diagnoses when they are afflicting a loved one, but like all of us do, I went ahead and asked Dr Google just how life threatening the condition was, and as always Dr Google didn't disappoint.

I took my three daughters in to see him at least once each day.

I also made sure the oldest two got to school when they needed to. I made sure the house stayed standing. I made sure bellies were fed and hearts were full.

I dried their tears when they got overwhelmed with missing Daddy. I answered their 356 questions each hour about why he was there and when he was coming home. And I held their hands when they got scared in the dark without Daddy there to protect them.

I was overwhelmed. I was also very proud of myself. I held it together.

Very soon after he was admitted, the offers for help started coming in. Of course I said no. To them all.

"I'm fine." I would say. Or, "I'll let you know if we need anything, but thank you. We're all good."

Inside I was screaming, "yes please! Anything please!" But outside, I was showing everyone I had it all together.

Except for when I didn't anymore. Eventually it got to be a bit too much. All of the stress and all of the worry piled up on top of this unexpected onslaught of responsibilities felt like it was starting to suffocate me. I was tired and I was lonely and I most definitely needed help.

So I said yes.

I let someone bring me groceries one night when I needed them. I said yes to the offers to bring my daughter home from school. I said yes to the meals. I said yes to the offers of companionship.

And something strange happened. The world didn't fall apart. People weren't angry at me for accepting their offers. People weren't rolling their eyes when I said, "yes." I didn't lose friends left and right.

Instead I saw genuine kindness in people's eyes. I saw the joy they took from my gratitude. And I felt my heart start to overflow with gratitude and appreciation.

I learned that people care and people are caring. I saw a whole network of helping hands. And it made me want to be a part of that network. It was amazing just how quickly people I didn't necessarily even know all that well came together to help me help my family.

There is so much to say about our culture... good and bad. Individualism is good. Self-sufficiency is stellar. Fortitude in hard times is crucial. But we don't live in a vacuum, and none of us can parent in a vacuum.

The old phrase, "it takes a village to raise a family," used to haunt me because I thought our culture had lost the village. The only semblance of it I saw was through the computer, and that can only be of so much help during trying times.

But what I learned from this whole ordeal is that the village still exists -- we just have to allow ourselves to become a part of it.

Where once I saw emptiness, now I see a village. I see helping hands and caring hearts. I see a world that I want my daughters to be a part of. I see examples in others that I want to hold up to my girls as inspiration as to how people can shine in the darkest of times.

And I think of what we would have missed out on if I hadn't accepted the help. My girls wouldn't have seen these friendships sprout up all around us, and they wouldn't have learned about the beauty of interdependence.

I am happy to say that we are back on our feet now. We are back to being fully functioning... well, as fully functioning as we ever are! But now I look at the world differently. Instead of being afraid to cross into the space of another, I am more welcoming. I seek out others. I offer help, and I pray the offers are accepted.

Because where we were blessed, I now want to bless.

Being a mom in today's world is ridiculously hard. I'm glad I learned (albeit the hard way) that it is so much easier when we all join hands and stand together.