A Sick Child

Yesterday a male friend stopped by and said that the reason he's a little late getting down here this year (he usually arrives earlier in March) is because his daughter had a health problem. "She's fine now but she gave us a scare", he said, but his eyes still held a haunted look. We don't stop worrying about our kids just because they become fully grown adults, do we?

My own children have done their best to make me wish, at times, that I'd never had kids. Every little problem they have, whether it be health or otherwise, scars me inside and it will always be that way. I can build a mountain out of a mole hill as quick as you can blink an eye so I often worry myself needlessly.

That said, it can't be any other way. With great love comes tremendous fears of loss. When my niece was dying, her mother told me that she'd gladly give her own life for her daughter and I understood completely. Every mother who loves her child can understand that sentiment. It's not said to grandstand but to express the deepest feelings that are possible for us.

I don't think I have the words to describe the love I feel for my children. When one is ill, I can't stand it until they're well again. It's emotionally draining to try to carry on as if there is nothing to worry about when we all know a serious, if remote, possibility exists. And when the crisis passes, we still worry that something else will come along to worry about.

And that's why I sometimes wish I'd never had kids.