A few days ago we took my two youngest to the children’s hospital in our city. We were there to find out more information about their recently discovered blood disorder and how it will impact their lives. In the days leading up to the appointment I was having a bit of a pity party for myself, silently saying “Why us again?”
When I was in my twenties I had a warped sense of protection. I felt that if I knew someone who went through something my family would not go through it. I know someone who lost a child therefore we will not. I know someone who got a divorce therefore we will not. I know someone who lost their home therefore we won’t.
Now that I am in my thirties, I realize life doesn’t work that way.
I knew someone who had heart surgery. Well my husband needed it too.
I know someone who had a miscarriage. Well I had one too.
I knew someone who had a stroke. Well my husband had one too.
Our children’s appointment was on a Wednesday at noon. After parking our car, we found our way to the patient waiting room.
We found ourselves sitting in the Blood Disorders and Cancer waiting room.
I saw kids of all ages and races who were ill. Some were wearing masks, some were in the isolation room, some were crying, and some were listless while being craddled by their parents.
These parents had surely asked “Why us? Why my child?”
As I watched my two smiling kids play in the room I felt incredibly blessed and ridiculously lucky.
We will be back to see more doctors and we will continue to worry for a long time.
But for now, my kids are happy, healthy, and home with me.
And that’s all that matters.