I kid you not, within two days of posting about our winter of horrible illness, Robin got sick and had an asthma exacerbation. And then it happened again about 4 days later. And I have a cold, and now Holly has a fever. I turned 32 yesterday and I ended the day having a panic attack in bed over Holly’s illness. The worst part is the time between discovering that yes, this is an actually sick kid and not just tired or cranky or whatever, and the time when you know exactly how bad it is. The verdict, this time is: not so bad. But I didn’t know that last night, for all I knew, she’d wake up every hour. She’d spike a fever again and be inconsolable. She’d start throwing up, which is still my #1 fear, even though it’s not any worse than any of those other things. In the fog just before slumber, I chased those fears down a rabbit hole of extreme scenarios, and that always ends with the certainty, the absolute certainty, that one of my children will be diagnosed with a life-threatening disease.
Natasha Mileshina via Compfight
In the moment, it seems completely plausible. They get sick so often. They have this wanness about them that reminds me of Colin from The Secret Garden. When sick, they’re extra sweet and lovely like Beth from Little Women. And no one I know has a kid who has been seriously, gravely ill. It seems like it’s bound to happen: I know lots of people with lots of kids, and it seems statistically likely that SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE, will have a child with cancer or meningitis or some other awful thing. Why not me? It will probably be me. It will probably be my child. Every time I’ve ever considered having a third child it’s because in the darkest moments, I am heartbroken at the notion that one of my daughters could lose a sister.
I do not handle these things well. I simply don’t have the temperament for handling the ups and downs of these things with grace and good humor. I fret. I stew. I worry. And I shut down. It’s embarrassing and it’s the number one aspect of parenting that makes me wonder if I ever should have gone down this road. I mean, if I can’t handle routine childhood illnesses well, what business do I have raising children? If I can’t fathom summoning the inner strength to cope with a serious illness, I should probably have never gotten on a train where that’s a possible destination. It makes me think I’m probably not a great mom. I think truly great mothers weather those tides.
It reminds me of this clip from Parenthood (the movie, not the show) in which the grouchy grandfather (Jason Robards) consults his son (Steve Martin) about a problem with another son of his. He tells him about a time when he was a child and they thought he might have polio.
“For a week, we didn’t know… I hated you for that. I did. I hated having to go through that… caring. Worrying. Pain. It’s not for me. It’s not like that all ends when you’re 18 or 21 or 41 or 61. It never, ever ends…”
I get that. It’s a horrible thing to say, and you can see Gil (Steve Martin) react with horror and disgust that a parent would hate a child, would resent something the child can’t control. But I relate so much to that sentiment.
Oh, I so know how you are feeling about this. My son has had the same history of cold/flu triggered asthma and it has challenged us with many many worries, visits to the doctor and emergency rooms and so on. Many sleepless nights have fallen upon us and I also have wondered whether I am up to the mothering job as I always feels like I completely buckle under all of the pressure. Just remember, noone is expected to get the parenting job right all the time, and sick children are indeed a very big worry, with many ups and downs. Remember that you are human and are also vulnerable. You will get through it, such as you will with the ups and downs of life in general. Our big relief with the cold unduced asthma was to take up the offer for the flu vaccination. Ever since my son has had this jab he his asthma has been well-controlled and he is stronger (he also has had that history of cough-induced vomitting!). His life and ours is much calmer now, at least in that respect. he jsut worries us with a host of other teen-rleated things! Good luck and hang in there – and most importantly, get rest and sleep when you can.
First of all, I love your writing! I was intrigued when I saw your blog’s name on another page (Ms.Magazine blog) because I too am a mama nervosa! Oh yes! When my son fell on his very second day at nursery school at the tender age of 16 months I cried my heart out! Right there in fron of ALL the teachers, kids and other parents accompanying their kids… My shirt was white and it was stained with my son’s blood coming from a cut on his lip… but it felt as if it was my blood! I tell you, it was the end of the world for me!
I had exactly the same thoughts: oh my Goodness, HOW will I survive through motherhood?! Imagine he breaks a leg or has an accident on his trike?? No way I’ll survive that!
ops, I forgot to share my latest post with you, which is actually about how you suffer when your kids suffer… am going through a difficult situation now and this post was an outlet for me. I don’t really write about what distressed me and my son but about the way it makes me feel :-/
http://sofiasfirst.blogspot.co.at/2012/10/every-little-bit-hurts.html
now I got it! Good night!
Thank you, Sofia! Your son is adorable. I can relate to your post!