Parenting is hard

On January 1 I drove my daughter to the ER because she had abdominal pains that may have indicated appendicitis. We spent 8 hours in a hospital that was overrun and short-staffed by Covid. After the intake conversation with (1) the nurse, (2) the fellow, and (3) the attending physician, we spent much of that time assuming she would be admitted overnight with surgery scheduled in the morning. During that time, my husband and son sat at home waiting. Ultimately, she was sent home without a diagnosis.

I joked that we had met our deductible on January 1, all while I questioned, "What the hell sent us to the ER?" Our pediatrician was no help in answering this question, btw, though I have a theory that didn't help us resolve my daughter's symptoms (another story, for another post...).

Not to be outdone by his twin sister in 2022, my son ended up in the ER tonight. This time, rather than driving 30 minutes to the hospital we knew best, my husband drove 40 minutes, across state lines, to the emergency room where my son had been taken by ambulance after an accident at ski club, and my daughter and I waited at home for news.

This is not a phone call any parent wants to receive.

My son's story is shorter than his sister's in the evaluation phase but will be much longer in the recovery phase. He does have a diagnosis, a concussion.  As athletes and youth coaches, my husband and I both know the dangers of concussions. They can really mess with your life, especially if you don't take care of yourself and fully recover. As parents, we have seen friends and co-workers whose own children, regardless of how steadfast they are in recovery, do not fully recover. Perhaps our experience was what made my son say to my husband, "I've ruined the only good part of me, my brain." I cannot express how much this sentiment makes me hurt and openly weep for my child.

At the same time, I am so very aware of the story of one of my college friends, who was blindsided in January a few years ago, almost to this exact date, with a diagnosis of childhood cancer.  She and her family deal with that diagnosis every day, years later, and I have very little to offer other than love and support and prayers. 

I know that today's accident could have resulted in something so much worse. I know that the fact that I joke about meeting our deductible in January is privilege. I know that the odds are ever in his favor.

But I don't know where this diagnosis will take our family.... And that is hard.

Parenting is hard. In so many ways it's the hardest job we will ever do. 

Tomorrow will bring new challenges. I already have my to-do list, and I know that my support network is already activated. I look to those before me who have navigated these waters, all while I look to my immediate family to see how I can help them do the same.

Parenting is hard, but maybe momming is even harder...

PS - And for all you TwinMoms, twinning is also hard.  In both ER moments, I saw the other twin struggle, almost as if they were experiencing it for themselves.  In today's moment, I think my daughter is feeling it double, as she knows what the hospital visit was like, and she also knows what "not knowing" is like. Hug the twin extra hard... and know that I see you.  TwinMomming is even harder...