Dear mom of a chronically ill child, I've been thinking about you all week. I've gotten the tiniest little glimpse into your life, and I see you more clearly than I ever have. You see, this week I sit in a hospital with my oldest child. This week I held my breath and almost vomited as I waited for the surgeon to tell us how it went and the maximum time predicted rolled right by without an update. I've had the pit in my stomach when I wondered if my child would be okay and the guilt of wondering if I could have done more, done better. I've watched my child writhe in pain and been powerless to help him. I've had to go against my peace-loving nature and advocate for my child when I felt that the doctors weren't working in his best interest. I've juggled the difficulty of having 3 kids at home who want their mama and one in the hospital who doesn't want me to leave. I've slept on the terrible hospital bed (sort of) and jumped up at his every need. And I just can't stop thinking about you. As mother's day approaches this Sunday I wanted to say some things to you that I hope will be affirming. I wanted to tell you what I think about you as I sit for a very short time in your shoes, knowing that my time here is temporary.
Dear mom of a chronically ill child, you are amazing. You have devoted your life to caring for your child and giving him or her the best possible life. I know you had dreams, sweet mother. I know you had dreams for yourself. I know you had dreams for your family. I know you had dreams for your child. You probably didn't dream about having a child with chronic illness. But now that you have that child I'm willing to bet you wouldn't trade him for all the dreams in the world. You have taken a difficult task and embraced it, loving your child in the way that only a mother can. You don't look at your child and see illness. You look at your child and see beauty. You look at your child and see love. Your child may not have the life that you've dreamed about, but your dreams have shifted and you've shifted with them. Your heart has embraced the challenges of your task, and you are strong and brave and admired.
Dear sweet mother, I don't pity you. Pity is not what anyone wants from others. No one wants others to look at them with sad eyes and say things like "You poor thing". You don't feel like a "poor thing". You feel blessed to have your child. Your child is not a burden. Your child is a gift. So, no, I don't pity you. You wouldn't want that. But, dear sweet mother, I admire you. I validate that your calling is not one that is easy. No one wants to be pitied, but everyone wants to be validated. No one wants to feel invisible in the world, and I fear that the calling you find on your life could make you feel that way. No one else is there to watch you pour yourself out constantly to care for your child. No one sees that you gave up things that were really important to you so that your child could have the best life possible. No one knows that you are up at 3:00 AM changing your child's bandages or trying to ease her pain so she can sleep. No one knows that you haven't slept in a week and you still have to function at top speed to take care of not only your sick child, but you your healthy children as well. No one understands how hard it is to care for a sick child and also nurture a marriage. No one knows how isolated you feel when you realize that none of your friends are in your shoes and you worry that no one understands you. But I want you to know that after this brief experience with a really ill child, I see you a little better. I won't claim to understand your life. That would be an insult. You contain strength that I can't even begin to mirror. The child that has your heart is in a constant struggle, and you are the rock he leans upon. You may feel weak sometimes, but I assure you, sweet mom, you are strong. Celebrities and CEOs and politicians may get lots of air time, but you are a shining star in our world. You show the love of God in a way that is pure and holy. I would imagine that you've wrestled with Him on questions like "Why would you let my child suffer?", and I bet you mostly wrestle alone in your own mind, in your own house, afraid to be honest about your struggles because you don't ever want someone to question your love for your child or your faith in God. But I want you to know that God is using you, sweet mother. He is telling a story through your life that will bless generations to come. You may feel small sitting cooped up in a hospital room, but you are a giant of faith putting one foot in front of the other, caring for one of God's most precious ones. You are not small or invisible. You are on a plain above most of us, showing us what it means to love the way God asked us to love.
Dear mom of a chronically ill child, please don't be afraid to ask for help. We may not understand what you are going through, but we want to help you stand up to your challenge. We have so much to learn from your strength and bravery. Don't feel like you can't share your story with the world. We want to hear it. We don't only want to know your victories. We want to stand with you in your struggles. We want to give you the honor that you deserve. You are a warrior in the truest sense. You are important. You are a hero. So, Happy Mother's Day, mom of a chronically ill child. You deserve this day more than any of us. Thank you for blessing our world.
