Pride and Pain

Children are wise. There's no doubt about it. But, as parents, I think we are often blinded by the daily routine of caring for our children. It's so easy to miss what's lying just under the surface. When we do discover this amazing attribute that fades far too quickly, if we are lucky enough to see it, it can knock you right on your ass.

I found myself in a situation with my oldest son the other day. I decided, in a rather spur-of-the-moment way, to tell him about his next surgery. I wasn't quite sure how to say it or what his reaction would be. I was surprised ... proud. He's 7 years old. His first reaction was, "The mask?" (as in the mask used to administer the "sleepy medicine.") "Oh, man," he said. He's 7 years old. I was expecting to fight for his attention. No. Didn't have to. He listened to everything I said. He paid attention. He asked questions that an adult would ask when facing a major surgery. Good questions. It was amazing.

He did grow concerned when I told him he'll stay in the hospital for a while. He thought we were going to leave him there, alone, until he could come home. That's when the pain hit. Like a knife driven into my heart, the emotions I've tried for so long to keep bottled came gushing out. I told him that I won't leave him alone in the hospital. I won't leave until he does. I told him that I've seen him go through so much in his life. That I wish I could take it all away. I said I know he's strong. If I didn't think he could handle it, I wouldn't make him do it. He's my hero. And I cried. He looked at me like I was crazy at one point. Then, we ended the conversation and moved on to more important things, like eating ice cream. Nothing more was said about the surgery for the following couple hours. Then, out of the blue, he came up to me, looked at me, wrapped his arms around my waist and told me he loves me.

Children are wise in the simplest of ways. Epispadias has been difficult for all of us. But, as his mom, I try to keep my pain and fear to myself. I guess I thought it would be harder for him to deal with everything if he saw his mom fall apart. That night, he taught me a lesson. It's OK to fall apart sometimes. No one is impervious to pain. Sometimes we need to see the true feelings of others to let us know it's OK to let it out.