Medical moms are a different kind of creature that many don’t talk about or understand.
We condition ourselves to roll with the punches. No matter how brutal...you roll. Your child’s life depends on it.
Our eyes see the unfathomable; sights that would keep a "normal" person awake at night...but we roll.
We condition ourselves to not feel it; not take life too seriously. We know how fragile and brief it is… we are reminded every second of the day. And yet, every time...we roll.
I hold my child down for continuous labs in reoccurring, almost monthly inpatient stays. He holds out his little arm, knowing pain is coming but also subconsciously knows it’s what needs to happen. I helped him the best way I could...medical necessity had won again.
Holding a child down while they’re screaming is a different type of ringing in your ears that never leaves. It’s a battle wound. It wakes you up in the middle of the night. It doesn’t ever go away. And yet, we continue to get up and keep rolling.
Medical moms become numb. Our hearts don't feel things like the hearts who are protected from this type of consistent and repeated defeat. We cope, and maybe too well.
Maybe we come off as cold and emotionally unavailable. Maybe we aren't approachable.
We come off a little bossy, because we have to be good patient advocates. We have to be the person our child needs, and depends on.
You will never see their world through their eyes. Because if they love you, they wouldn't want you to. They will protect you from it. They will downplay every situation. Sometimes you won’t even know they’re in the midst of a Category 5 medical hurricane. They keep rolling without batting an eye.
Be patient and kind with medical moms. You never know what battlefield they’re walking in, and yet all you’ll see is them rolling. Always.
By Shawna Ammons
