We had a scare with Will's breathing yesterday and at 8:00 last night I found myself in our local ER with him as he panted for air, taking 45-50 breaths/ minute. My husband, Joe, stayed home with our 10 year old son Gabe, and prepared the house and our suitcases in case we had to take Will to Texas Children's Hospital in Houston. Gabe reluctantly stayed with Joe. He wanted to go with Will because he wanted to know as soon as possible if we were going to have to go to Houston. Usually the trip to Houston means Gabe will stay behind with friends and continue with school. This journey the four of us are traveling feels very isolating at times. Each one of us so afraid of what will happen to us and how we will be able to cope with the fear of Will being hospitalized or worse, but each one of us trying to be so brave for each other. So often we don't speak of our own fears, because it seems selfish or we don't want to upset someone else or add to their personal pain, but my heart tells me and urges me that that isn't the best way.
As we were driving to the hospital, which thank God, is only 5 blocks from our house, Will was constantly asking about what was going to happen. "Were we going to have to go to Houston? Was he going to have to cancel a planned play date on Wednesday?" And also saying, as he panted for air, " I feel fine! I don't have fever. I'm not sick!" Will wants so desperately to convince everyone of his strength and bravery. He gets so upset when he is sick and will often try to hide or mask his symptoms. I just kept saying "Will I don't have the answers. We just need to do what we can to beat this thing and focus on breathing better." As I held his hand as we walked into the hospital, I said to him (and to myself), " You know what? It's okay if you are scared. It's okay if you need to cry. You don't have to pretend with me. This is scary. You don't have to try to be brave. Just be yourself. I'm scared to and I don't want to have to go to Houston either."
He softened then and he stopped asking the questions. For me, it takes more courage to admit that I don't always have the answers, I can't fix everything, and I can't predict the future. My reaction as a mother is always to try to take the pain away and try to prevent the fear, but when I do I know I am telling myself and teaching my kids that having fear and pain is bad. The truth is that having fear and pain is a normal part of our life's journey and facing it honestly with ourselves and each other helps develop our beauty and strength. Thankfully, Will's stay in the hospital was only a few hours, long enough to determine his one and only lung was clear and to get some much needed steroid and antibiotic to clear the inflammation. We were all thrilled to have our family reunited and sleep in our own beds, knowing that everyone was safe under one roof.
This experience reminded me of this image I drew for the cover of my book, The Butterfly Knight.
It reminds me that there is beauty and strength in our fragility and vulnerability, especially when we share it with those we love. I want to teach my boys to not hide their fear and pain, and to not view it as a punishment or weakness. I want to support them as they learn to accept it as a catalyst in life for positive growth and development. I want them to know I believe they are brave and beautiful all the time, in sickness and in health, and in good times and in bad. I want them to hear the confident words from mouth, filled with love and trust,
"You can do this!"