#BiteSizeMemoir by Lisa Reiter at Sharing the Story prompt this week is childhood illness. Childhood illness for a parent is always scary. We always want what is best for our children and want to keep them safe no matter what. It is never harder for a parent than to feel helpless while their child is sick or hurt and there isn’t much they can do about it except shower them with love and take care of them as best we can. This is my memory of a childhood illness.
I remember worrying about my baby daughter’s bleeding umbilical chord and the nurse saying, “If you’re concerned bring her in.”
I remember being in the doctor’s office, pulling her dress off and noticing one breast looking swollen but not the other.
I remember one doctor after another coming in to take a look with her father’s and my fears mounting.
I remember the doctor saying they were going to have to admit her, my little baby girl, for possible surgery and her father telling me that he would never second guess my concern for her again.
I remember them saying that I couldn’t go in while they connected an IV to my daughter and hearing her screams while I paced the hallway; I insisted on holding her for shots and blood draws after that.
I remember counting over 21 punctures all over her arms and legs and seeing a shaved portion of her full head of hair where they finally found a vein.
I remember my heart breaking when they told me, being on the children’s ward, I couldn’t stay at night with her; only leaving when they insisted and showing up first thing in the morning every day.
I remember tears threatening when the doctor told me that they’d have to cut her open to remove the lump; they didn’t know if it’d grow normally when she grew up.
I remember relief at being able to bring my baby girl home seven days later.
I remember my gratitude and love that she grew into a smart and beautiful woman.
Please visit Lisa Reiter’s blog and the other participants. Do you have a childhood illness story?
“Sometimes poets write what we wish we could say, and they tell us what we need to know. The poems in Wild Woman Waking lead us to a place where we can proudly refuse to be “bent and broken”; instead, they document a journey to self-acceptance, peace, and understanding – where in a community of women, we celebrate and dance as Mud Women. We become women of spirit and keepers of our own keys.” ~Beth Camp