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It always gets better

A month has gone by; a month of Miss Sunshine being unwell, hospitalization for a few days and gradual recovery. And once again, I am amazed by my daughter’s strength and resilience; that even in her suffering she is able to enjoy life, smile, laugh and play when I find it hard just to see her unwell. I must admit that this time it’s been harder than before, probably because it was so unexpected. I just figured we were dealing with her usual manageable symptoms so I had not even thought of a possible hospital admission.

But today, I want to focus on the bright side. The fact that Miss S has bounced back and even managed to go to school today. The fact that little by little she’s getting to experience her small joys- being with her cousins, going to play areas and just having fun.

The fact that we had almost a whole month together, mostly indoors, with nothing to do but just be. It was claustrophobic some of the time, maybe restrictive but we were together; no pressures, no schedules; only focusing on her recovery.

I appreciate the fact that I am practicing letting go, there’s nothing more I can do to protect her, I have to let her live her life fully and just do the best I can to minimize her symptoms when she falls sick.

I am so grateful that we are back to living our lives fully because it has reduced the frustration and overwhelming feelings that I was experiencing when all I was focusing on was her being unwell. I know as a result of the helplessness I felt seeing her suffering once again, I had so much pent up frustration which unfortunately resulted in a number of outbursts once we were back home when she was getting better. And I appreciate that I can now forgive myself for the outbursts and I am finding ways to react in such unexpected stressful situations. Another reason I’m grateful that we’re back to our normal routines is because the time together became our ‘normal’ so Miss S became so used to our time together, that she became clingy and irritable when I was even away from her for a few minutes when she needed me. And this separation anxiety was a bad trigger for us in the past week. But today has been refreshing, her having her morning at school- which she had missed so much- and myself at work.

The main reason I am grateful is that despite everything, I have Miss Sunshine. I have a happy, healthy, loving, bubbly, bright, funny, strong willed and fulfilled little girl. Nothing beats having her. Storms will come and they will pass. We’ll take whatever life throws at us. I have her and she has me, and that’s what I’m focusing on,

My precious Sunshine, I love you and will always love you the mostest and the bestest.

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My Breaking Point

Another week has started off with Miss Sunshine and I both home- her unwell and myself taking care of her. And I go through the same process I go through each time she’s unwell- panic, sadness, fear- and my life stops. I should be used to this by now. I should have learnt that a minor sickness is normal, that all children fall sick, I should, but I haven’t. This is the one thing I’m not able to be rational about, despite spending my days helping people to be rational and realistic. Yet, I’m unable to.

This is a result of her experiences in infancy, from her 1st week into this world she was in and out of hospital with many common childhood symptoms like fevers, vomiting, dehydration and abdominal issues, which on their own would have been nothing to worry about, but for her ended up in a number of hospital admissions without any confirmed diagnoses. And when at 7 weeks old, she was found to have a number of allergies that led to her symptoms, I thought the battle was over because we had found the root of the problems. But despite elimination of every allergen from my diet (as she was still breastfeeding), she still kept falling sick and needing hospital admission. Miss S has a great paediatrician who was determined to find out the cause of her symptoms and I remember during her last admission, he carried out so many tests, consulted with other doctors abroad and eventually told us that they could not find anything.  I remember that day, we went home with a still sick Sunshine because the hospital was traumatizing her so much and there was nothing they could do apart from manage the symptoms, which we could do at home. And that point is when my trauma began. I stopped working for a while, and spent my mornings and nights watching Miss S, making sure she was breathing, making sure she was ok. I couldn’t understand why she had to suffer so much, I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t get a solution and I knew what true helplessness was. S has been a blessing, such a joy and loving person and it didn’t make sense to me why she had to suffer so much.

So, thank God, even without a diagnosis, Miss S recovered and the incidences of her symptoms almost disappeared. I went back to working a few days a week but would still drop everything when she was unwell. This has always been important to me because she falls sick so suddenly and unexpectedly so it’s important to help her as soon as she does. But she grew up, allergies disappeared and she was able to tolerate dairy and eggs. And I was able to relax somewhat, to stop being on the watch and just let her be. But now what happens is that when she falls sick, I automatically go back to a year or two ago, and the fear returns. And of course no one understands why I’m so afraid. I’m a psychologist, so I do, I’m still traumatized and haven’t moved past that time.

This year, when I knew we were in a calmer period of her life, she was diagnosed with asthma. And I was so angry, I remember crying for days. Not because of asthma per se. But because since she was born, she’s been limited, it’s always been her food, what she can do and can’t do. She’s spent so much time in hospital, so many unpleasant experiences and then here was one other thing added. So once again, more limitation, more protection which would be impossible for her to understand. All I wanted was for her to finally have a normal experience of being a child without lists of dos and don’ts.

Eventually I accepted it, I had to, otherwise I would also unintentionally depress her. And she started school in May, went for 2 days and had her 1st major asthmatic attack on the 2nd night. She ended up being home till the next week recovering and by end of the next week was hesitant about going back to school. I wondered why as she’d enjoyed her two days there but did’t push her to go. A few days later when she was sick again I understood why she’d refused to go, she was already probably feeling irritable and under the weather as a result of the incubating infection. The next few weeks were like that, few days well, some more days sick and when she was well she didn’t want school to come up. And I understood why, most of that half term, she was already unwell, and it feels awful to be sick. Also, her only school experience was now associated with being sick.

Anyway, this September she was back in school and she’s such a fighter she’s been handling school even with numerous infections and asthma- related symptoms. Even when she misses days due to sickness, she’s been able to recover them as she only does 3 days a week. However, even though she’s a tough little fighter, I guess I’m not. I thought I was handing it well, taking it a day at a time- taking her to school when she’s well, taking her back to the hospital when she’s not, taking time out to take care of her when she’s sick. But the truth- I’m broken. Yes, children get sick, really sick and yes, parents handle it. But right now, watching her sleeping I know that I’m breaking inside for her and I cannot focus on anything else but her and having her well. I know that’s impossible as there will always be flu and infections but I hate the tight rope- the waiting for the next time, the worrying, the monitoring, the numerous medications she has to take. I hate that at 3 years old, she knows the names of medicines I had no idea of till she was born. I hate that simple small symptoms like these can take over and cloud everything at times like these. But mostly, I hate that when my little girl is the one suffering, I can’t be stronger and have more faith, and yet she acts and plays like nothing is wrong.

But this is my humanity.

By the time she gets up, I’ll be stronger once again, for her. And I just have to accept that not everyone can understand why I have to stop everything to take care of her when she’s sick. It looks minor, but to me it’s the most major thing as she’s my world.

I love you so much Sunshine. In a perfect world, I would give you a perfect, 100% healthy life with zero time spent in hospital and medication. But this is an imperfect world so I’ll give you my almost perfect love and attention instead.