I was sent this .. and it truly is an amazingly piece of writing and oh so true !
When you are suddenly thrust into the role as a parent with a seriously ill child
Personal views by Sharon Stevens after her son developed serious heart failure in 2006
- You learn that each day of life is a gift and a blessing, and can change or be taken from you at a moment’s notice – and nothing you can say or do will change that. You have no choice but to deal with what has been dealt to you.
- You feel life is surreal and wonder if this is really happening to you and wonder when you are going to wake up from this nightmare.
- You feel helpless, and give your child over to these strangers to save your child – sometimes strangers that are much younger than you or from another country or faith, but who you now place your total faith in. You want them to know that this is the most important, wonderful child in the world – he more than any other deserves to be saved.
- You let these strangers pump your child full of drugs that you know have serious side-effects, but you know without them your child will not have a chance to recover.
- You experience despair, pain, grief and extreme sadness like you have never known before. You also feel such an overpowering love and desire to protect and save your child like you have never known before.
- You cry like you have never cried before, with such strong despair. You are very emotional, regardless of how strong you once were. You realize the song words “my tears could fill an ocean” aren’t an exaggeration. You are often fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. The smallest thing, funny or sad, can make you cry.
- You get relief from your child making it through another day, knowing that each new day brings new hope, and new technologies discovered.
- You worry about the future – for you and your child. Goals, hopes for the future suddenly need to be re-focused, re-thought. You don’t want to face the future, then you can’t stop thinking about it.
- You grieve for the life you had, that your child had, that is now no longer.
- You feel your own heart is breaking, how you would gladly swap places with your child, to give them a chance to experience all that you have (and that all people should have) – falling in love, marriage, children (your grandchildren), the big OE, employment, passing their driver’s licence, their first car, their 21st …….
- You learn the art of “two faces”. One the brave, strong, coping face you present to the world, the other very private face that very few see – the grief-stricken, heartbroken, devastated, very scared face.
- You find the petty annoying little things and negative people, or people that hurt you or your child in your “old life” to be just that – petty – and better out of your life.
- You find an inner-strength you never knew you had, and had admired in others when facing their own major struggles. You learn that it is there, deep inside you – it is there, we all have it.
- You treasure every moment of your child’s life, every breath they take. Each and every one of your children become even more special and you love them with such an intensity that you never dreamed possible – and you already thought you loved them as much as humanely possible.
- You suddenly need photos, lots of photos, mementos of your child’s life – memories are so important. You are very thankful that you have been given this chance – it could have been so different …..
- You learn new words, new sayings, new abbreviations – all related to your child’s illness, words you didn’t even know existed, now you rattle off easily.
- You learn denial – to ignore what might happen, instead to cherish and enjoy the moments you have now. But denial must be short term.
- You experience and take please and comfort from the small things in life – a kind word, an improvement no matter how small (even 1% is better than nothing). Lucky superstitions give you hope – a lucky room number, a dove on the windowsill. You wish to a bright star. Every little bit helps.
- You want to talk to other positive parents of similarly affected children. You want to hear their success stories, their goals achieved. Their success gives you hope. You don’t want to be with the negative ones.
- You sit there staring at your child as they sleep, watching each breath they take – hoping and praying they will recover soon. You don’t want to leave their side, you don’t want to miss any milestone, or not be there if something goes wrong. Being apart and away from them is oh so hard.
- You want to give your child everything you can or ensure they receive everything they can that will make them happier or healthier. Giving them pleasure, making them happy – gives you pleasure. You want them to experience all of life’s happiness that they can.
- You become humble and learn to ask for and accept help. You marvel at the number of friends and family who offer help and prayers. Kindness, help and caring of others astounds you. It brightens your day and your outlook. What goes around comes around.
- You enjoy talking to friends who want to talk about everyday things – things that used to give you pleasure e.g. your hobbies, your sport, your pets – this time out is so important, and gives you strength when it is time to come back to reality. You are thankful for your true friends.
- You know that “special” parents are not chosen to be the parent of a special needs or seriously ill child, we are everyday, ordinary people from all walks of life. We have no more coping skills than any other, we just learn them as we go.
- You are so grateful for the support of your partner, someone to cling to, share the pain, and grieve with who truly does understand what you are feeling.
- You learn that the most fundamental lesson all doctors and nurses learn when they have a grief stricken parent crying and distraught in front of them, is to quietly pass over a box of tissues.
You know there is no doubt your life will ever be the same again.
You know you will never be the same person again.
You know where there is life, there is hope and miracles DO exist.
You learn to wait patiently for your family’s miracle, knowing it may take time, but positive it WILL happen. You will smile again.
Our miracle DID happen – we hope it does for you to. Sharon Stevens, April 2006


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