Help Me Help You

In this episode, host Cherese Lee shares a personal story about the power of asking for help and how it can lead to meaningful connections and community. Through her experience of navigating life with newborn twins and a toddler, she learned that sometimes the people offering help are the ones who need to be a part of your story.

Hey, friends, this is Cherese Lee and you're listening to the Just Waiting for You podcast. Whether the sun is shining where you are in life today, or you're walking through a crappy storm, and you really wish you got some rain boots. The power of a story is sometimes all you need for that perspective shift. Hang out with us for a few minutes and find out what happens when you realize that someone is just waiting for you.

It's a story. It's just a story. When our first set of twins came along, our oldest was barely two which created some practical challenges for getting them around. And there was a lot of need to get them around. While you might imagine hunkering down, in a Pittsburgh winter when you have two newborns and a toddler, that wasn't an option at our house.

My husband was a first-year resident which means his hours were insane. And one of our twins, as you've heard, had a lot of medical issues. And so we had a lot of doctor's appointments and therapies and different things. And basically, if we were going to get groceries or clothes to fit the kids or whatever, the kids and I had to all go together.

We also at the time didn't know a soul in Pittsburgh. We moved there right before the twins were born, and so there was no time for meeting friends. We didn't have family around, so there weren't babysitting options either. Well, some family members had gotten us a double stroller as a gift, but I quickly learned that a two-year-old is not necessarily the most reliable person to just stay with me when pushing a double stroller in whatever type of exciting location you may find yourself.

So on our teeny tiny budget, I start scouring eBay for strollers. In my mind, I was thinking a triple stroller (obviously). Well, those were hard to come by and didn't show up on the used market very often. But what I did find was a quadruple stroller. And it just so happened to be driving distance from where we lived.

So the next time Brandon came home, I pitched this to him that I had found this quad stroller on eBay. “What on earth would you do with the fourth seat?” He asked me (I mean, fair question). But my answer was also fair. I said, “I'm going to put all the crap in the fourth seat”. I mean, three kids, two and under require a lot of things.

It was a good price because, again, not a huge market for quad strollers and it would fit our need. When we got the quad stroller, what I didn't count on was how much of a large moving condominium it would be. It was two seats. And then behind that two seats. It was super wide, barely fit through a doorway and super deep as well.

I mean, it really felt like I was pushing an apartment building, but it was what we needed, and it worked for the time being. But let me tell you, I was a sight to see with this giant moving hotel on wheels. There was no, you know, putting on a ball cap and just going through the day.

There were comments. There was staring. There was curiosity. There was oohs and ahs. And I'm sure that my under slept, overstimulated self-had just had enough of them. I'll never forget, one day I was at the mall. I parked in the parking garage, loaded up the kids in the giant stroller.

And as I'm coming up to the door, the big glass swinging doors (of course, I chose an entrance that didn't have the automatic ones). There was an older gentleman who saw me headed towards there, and he kind of starts to run up ahead of me to help. And he says, “Oh, I can let me get that. And can I move this for you? And can I?” And I said, “no, I've got it”.

And he was like, “But I-let me-that just looks like a lot”. It it was a lot in a lot of ways. And I said, “No, no, it's very kind of you. But no, I have this”. And the look on his face crushed my soul. And at that point, there was no turning back. And so I struggled with the door in my moving condominium to get through it.

It was such a quick and random encounter that was now almost 20 years ago. And yet I remember it so clearly. And I still get this pit in my stomach about it. Why? Because now I've been on the other side so many times. How many instances have there been where I try to grab the door for someone with a stroller and they say, “I've got it”.

Or at work, I'll try to grab a diaper bag or the infant carrier, and nope they're good and I get it. I've been there. Everything in life is really hard right then and feels so out of control that you just-the last thing you want to look like is that you need someone, that you are vulnerable, that holy crap, I really don't have it. I need you to hold more than the door right now.

Every time I offer help and it's turned down; I think of that gentleman and the look on his face because he had wisdom at that point that I did not yet have. And I have to remind myself that with my kids.

Recently, we texted one of our college kids and said, “hey, I know that you're really struggling in this class. And, you know, both of us took that class in college and we did well in it. Why don't you facetime and let us take you through this week's chapter?”

And as expected, the offer wasn't received. He chose not to take us up on it. And that's okay. I've been there. But something that I reminded him was that other people want to be a part of your story.

We were designed for community, and that means all of it. And I've learned that over the years, time and time again, when people just show up with food because someone is sick or offer to do something for me that I don't actually know how to do.

A few days ago, I got a text from a friend who is going through some health challenges right now, and she asked me if I could help. And you know what I texted back? I said, “thank you for asking!” because I want to be part of her story because I know what it feels like.

I truly believe that asking for help is not a sign of weakness. I think it's the bravest damn thing you can do. And nine times out of ten, the person on the other side, the one offering you their hand or to open the door, they want to be a part of your story.

They needed someone to be a part of theirs. And when they go home that night, they felt like they were a part of something. Let them be. Let us be.

I would encourage you to ask for help to thank people when they ask you for help. Thank you for letting me be a part of this. I have been thinking about you nonstop and I wondered what I could do with that.

And now you've given me something to do with that. Thank you. Just to let you know, the quad stroller didn't make it a super long time in the house. That thing must have weighed 87 pounds. And getting that in and out of the minivan and the children's hospital every week, it was just crazy. And it turns out that does fit well in an exam room with also you and physicians.

So we kept an eye on eBay. We finally found a triple, which was shaped more like a stretch limo. Would have been even better had it had like a mirror up front that you could like to see around the corner. And we were able to offload our quad stroller on eBay, and it all worked out. I mean, I guess you call that all working out for a while. My husband swore I was running some sort of stroller business out of my garage.

The next time someone offers to help you, maybe pause for just a minute, and remind yourself I might be okay. I might be able to make this work. But maybe that person is actually waiting for me right now and not the other way around. Maybe that person really wants to be a part of my story

Thanks for joining us. I hope you allow yourself to feel the things today and then have the courage to ask, “but what if I look like this?” Go forth and show up for life, my friends. Someone is just waiting for you.