Healing my inner child when my kids are sick
My mom rarely believed me when I was sick.
My mom rarely believed me when I was sick.
She had been a nurse and I was the youngest of five, so by the time I came around, she had seen it all and apparently there wasn’t anything some Tylenol couldn’t fix.
Even when legitimate stuff was going on, her impulse was to brush it off. Like, when I had the stomach flu as a toddler. Later I proved it by puking all over my parent’s bed (showed them).
Or when I fell playing roller hockey and was basically told to walk it off, only to learn later that day I’d broken my femur bone (strongest bone in the body).
I’m not telling you this to vilify my mother. There were a lot of layers here and she loved me deeply, I know that. She was my best friend and my everything. But she was also an alcoholic, and someone who did not do well with a disruption of schedules (something I completely relate to now).
As an adult, my relationship to sickness has been completely warped. For one, whenever I get ill or injured I am convinced that no one will believe me. This has lead me to grin and bear through some very painful and difficult times.
And it’s not just my perception about myself. When people around me are sick or injured, I def side eye them and wait until I see blood or vomit before I fully react.
I don’t like being that way. It’s old programming.
But here is the thing with programming. You can reprogram it.
Yesterday, one of my son’s was super sick. I saw his face go grey and he needed to be held way more than usual. Before I knew it he was sick all over our house and my husband and instead of feeling my usual, “walk it off” impulse (a.k.a. my mom’s inner voice), I was overcome with sympathy. I hurt for him.
Picture Emilie Bers
And I not only believed him, I wanted to do absolutely everything in my power to take care of him. As I sat with him between my arms for hours last night, stroking his hair, I had this image of me holding myself at that age.
In taking care of him, I am also taking care of that little girl who felt so unseen and not believed.