Smile on pause. My fight against facial paralysis

That morning was terrible. Daniel was barely ten months old and was sick with otitis. Contagious fevers, crying, sleepless nights, compresses and worries piled up.

Maybe that’s why, when I started feeling weird and sleepy, I thought it was because I was tired. I didn’t give it any importance at the time. I only wished that the evil would be cured and morning would come, because with the rays of the sun sometimes problems seem less serious.

I never imagined that with the light of the sun would begin a dark moment in my life. I got up to pour water on my face and saw a strange mouth. I tried to move it and put it in its place, but I couldn’t. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. The smile was a horrible grimace drawn in the mirror as if it were a bad joke.

I went from shock to fear, then anger, denial and sadness. It was difficult for me to achieve the supposed acceptance, but I don’t think I ever did. Why was this happening to me? What happened to my body to respond like this? Did I do something wrong? Many questions and few answers.

The most shocking thing for me was when I tried to drink coffee and it spilled out the side of my mouth. It seemed like a nightmare. I missed my face, I missed laughing, I missed being me.

Then came consultations, emergency CT scans, acupuncture, treatments, high-dose prednisone, neurologist appointments, massages, exercises. In between the above, I had to take care of Naughty and try to feel better so my pain wouldn’t affect her. It was very difficult.

Fortunately, at that time the child was small and although he looked at me strangely, he was not aware of what was happening. I didn’t want to see anyone. I isolated myself, I distanced myself, I didn’t look at myself in the mirror, I hardly spoke — I’ve always been a talker. My whole world changed. I had to take a necessary pause to think and recognize the damage that had led me down the path of paralysis.

After “I’m Fine”

Since I was diagnosed with facial paralysis, I began to study the subject to understand the causes, consequences and prevent its recurrence in the future. It was a moment of deep introspection, a turning point in which I decided to look inward and face the accumulated stress that had deceived me for so long. For the first time I stopped to think about myself, how I was treating myself and the urgent need to take care of myself.

For years, even since my childhood, I had lived in a constant race against time, prioritizing the needs of others over my own, relegating myself to the bottom of the priority list. I hid the pain behind a forced smile and a repetitive “I’m fine” as my body sent me warning signals that I ignored. I pushed him to the limit, punished him with the weight of stress and worry, I held him without realizing the serious consequences it would have.

It is said that the body speaks when the mind is silent. In my case, my body was screaming to be heard. He took drastic measures to force me to pay attention to him, to remind me that I too deserved care and love, that I could not ignore my own needs to maintain the facade of superficial well-being. It was a painful but necessary awakening, a reminder that physical and emotional health cannot be sacrificed in the name of complacency or external expectations.

The facial paralysis was an unexpected wake-up call and a strong reminder that I needed to change the way I lived. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay while my body and mind screamed for help. I had to make significant changes to prioritize my own well-being and learn to love and care for myself the same way I did for others.

It was a painful but liberating process of self-discovery. I learned to listen to my body and recognize the signals it was sending me, instead of ignoring or minimizing them. The learning continues, step by step, one day at a time, and it is very difficult for me, but I know it is also necessary.

I’ve had to learn to set healthy boundaries, say “no” when necessary, and delegate responsibilities. I’ve also tried to constantly practice self-care, although it’s not so easy with two young children and starting over in a new country. However, I am always looking for ways to reinvent myself, to create our family traditions and activities that bring us all joy.

Impact on daily life

Facial paralysis brought with it a number of challenges that affected almost every aspect of my daily life. From difficulty communicating and smiling to problems with eating and caring for my little one. The struggle to maintain my self-esteem and confidence as a mother became a monumental task.

Accepting my condition was a gradual process full of emotional ups and downs. As I adjusted to my facial paralysis, I learned to find new ways to carry out daily activities and accept the changes in my physical appearance. Daniel’s growth as I faced those challenges forced me to find the inner strength to carry on.

During the journey, emotional support was essential. My friends, family and health professionals became a solid network that supported me through the most difficult times. However, in the middle of the net, my husband stood out as a rock I could lean on when I needed it most. Despite his facial paralysis and the hardships we faced, he never stopped showing his love and care.

I remember how, even when I felt most vulnerable, my husband always found a way to make me feel beautiful. His words of encouragement and unconditional support were a balm to my soul in moments of deep anxiety. Not only did he take care of me physically, but he was also my emotional support, my anchor in the midst of the emotional storms that seemed to shake me.

At times when I felt like I was hitting rock bottom, my husband was my push to keep going, my buoyancy in the sea of ​​uncertainty and pain. His constant presence and unconditional love were my refuge, my home I could turn to at any time.

Then, I was pregnant with Emma, ​​and we were back to the nights of cramping and C-section pain again. The ghost of paralysis hovered around us. Even when we arrived in the United States – after the trip that changed our lives forever – the paralysis returned with greater force, although I think it was not completely gone because my face has never been the same. Neither their expressions nor my mouth. But little by little, with a lot of patience, I have learned to know myself, to listen to my body, while I continue in the healing process not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally.

From self-discovery to self-love

The journey of self-discovery made me realize that self-love is not a selfish act, but an essential need for a balanced and fulfilling life. I learned to recognize my worth and value my health and happiness above all else. Although the road to recovery has not been easy, every step I have taken forward has been worthwhile.

Today I can confidently say that facial paralysis not only taught me important lessons in self-care and self-compassion, but also gave me the opportunity to rediscover myself and embrace my true inner strength. Although my journey to recovery is still ongoing, I am grateful for the perspective the experience has given me and the growth it has inspired. Now, I commit to continuing to prioritize my well-being and living an authentic and fulfilling life, in which self-love is always my guide and my greatest strength.

Over time, I have discovered that there is light at the end of the tunnel and that every obstacle overcome makes us stronger and more resilient. We can find peace and happiness – even in the most difficult times of parenting and life in general – with the right support and determination to keep going. Although it may seem like a mouthful, it’s okay to not always be okay. Accepting our sadness, mistakes and pain is part of the healing process.