Facing My Child’s Mortality
-My baby is going to die. Something is going to happen, he’s not going to wake up. They’ll put him to sleep and that will be last time I ever see him.
My chest felt empty, my face hot and swollen with uncried tears welling up behind the skin.
I filled his milk bottle and carried him to the bedroom trying to hold the thoughts back, but I couldn’t stop them
-This might be the last time I ever put him to bed. This time tomorrow he could be dead.
I stopped breathing and my head swam as I placed him in his cot, my eyes soaking up every detail of his little tired face as he looked back at me over his milk bottle, confused, worried. The pain must be showing on my face.
I smiled and brushed his hair our of his face.
‘Good night my sweet boy.’ The words barely came out, catching in my throat as they did. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying and left him there.
Left him in his cot for what could be the last time ever.
My insides felt like a blackhole -empty and sucking everything else inside, my body curling up around the painful vaccum. Tears poured down my face as I closed the door behind me and sat down on the floor, arms around my knees, sobbing, throat raw, body wracked in pain.
-My baby is going to die.
-He’s not going to die. It’s a simple operation. He’ll be fine.
-No he won’t, I just know it. I just know something terrible is going to happen to him.
-Get up. He’ll be fine. You’re being stupid.
I pulled myself off the floor and walked to the kitchen wiping my eyes, my mind trying to move on, deal with the things that needed doing. Food needed packing, clothes needed putting in the bag for the next day. My body went through the motions, opening fridge, buttering bread, but my mind was whirling. Every few seconds my body came to a shuddering stop as my mind is flooded with images of my little boy lying in a bed, eyes closed, not breathing.
-Oh God, what if something happens? I won’t be able to..I can’t…
Tears again, large drops, splashed down onto the cling flim pulled taut in my hands ready to wrap the sandwiches. My hands start to shake, my whole body full of grief and pain.
-I can’t do this, I can’t let them put him to sleep. He doesn’t need to operation. It’s just a blocked tear duct. I’m not going to let them kill him.
Shaking too much I had to abandon the food.
I found myself standing outside his bedroom door, hand on the handle. Half of me wanted to go in and see him, hold him, smell him. Keep him safe. The other half knew we had a long journey the next day and he needed his rest. So did I. With a whispered goodnight at his door I walked back down the coridor and to my own room, my heart breaking to leave him there.
I was being irrational, I knew it. Sleep would help.
And it did.
2.45am the alarm went off. Groggy, unbelieving, I peeled myself from the duvet, my husband already up, banging around in the kitchen. It was going to be a long day. We had a 7.30am appointment at the hospital over a 3.5 hour drive away.
I was tired and groggy but calm. The fears gone. My boy was going to be fine.
And he was.
But I can still feel that pain and fear in my memories, still feel that sharp taste of bile as I think of what could have been. Monday was by far the hardest day of my life, handing him over to someone else, putting his life in someone else’s hands like that.
I start to shake every time I think of it.
But he is fine. The operation was a success, tear duct unblocked and he is well and at home driving me to distraction once again.
This parenting stuff is one hell of a rollercoaster of a ride, isn’t it?
I'm Heather, an ex expat, now back in blighty and living in Lancashire. Which is just like Lapland only less snowy...and stuff.
What a moving post. That’s one of my greatest fears, and every mum’s I’m sure!
You poor thing! Every parent goes through that!
I also find it amazing how people keep thinking lots of the same thing. Yesterday I wrote a draft for my post today and it was about fear and death. Next thing I know both here and at vegevitamex the posts were about death and fear. Funny how the world is.
Glad he is okay!
It’s a horrible horrible thing to have to go through, no matter how little/how big the operation is it’s still a major thing to cope with emotionally as a parent and physically as a baby/child. I still remember clearly the feeling when number 5 had an op at 4 weeks old and then again at 9 weeks…makes me want to cry still. :0(
I’m glad it all went well though for you and the tear duct is all sorted and unblocked. x
Oh it’s so hard when they’re ill. No 1 Son was in hospital a lot with asthma attacks when he was little – once he was barely conscious for 24 hours and I lay awake on the ward not daring to sleep in case he didn’t wake up. I still have nightmares about it. So glad your little one is recovering x
Any medical procedure on our children can make us worry but I can so understand the fear of a general anasth. It was bad enough when I needed one and I thought it might be the last time I saw my then 16 mth old girl!
Glad he’s OK.
Oh yes the fear is horrible. Maxi was very ill at 4 months and in ITU and we were warned it was touch and go and well my whole world collapsed. Infact it shaped where we are and why I am a SAHM
Oh my dear..hugs to you. You were so brave. I have worried about something like this since the day that Little Miss was born. Well done to you all…and so happy that everything was just fine.
I’m so glad you posted this! I feel an acute fear of my children’s mortality daily, and I’ve never been sure if it’s typical. I’ve mentioned it to other dads and just got blank looks. But almost everything they do just keeps that little pilot-light of fear aflame, and at times (like the one you describe) it ‘flashes out in furnace fear’ (to use the words of someone else who spent a lot of time thinking about death). Now I’m not actually averse to it, as long as it’s just background noise. A healthy appreciation that life won’t last forever can make your enjoyment of the moment even stronger. But still… am I normal?
Beautifully written about such a terrifying thing. I understand absolutely how you feel and have felt that way many times myself. This parenting thing is so hard. x
I know that I am going to find the following very hard to write so please bear with me as it is going to be difficult even though the accident happened when my daughter was three and she is now 20.
It was Christmas Eve, the day before I had bought Bee a new denim dress from Next – she’d begged me to try it on when we got home which I did. She refused to take it off for bed and so when she woke up she was still in her new denim dress.
I went downstairs put on the gas fire, then went back upstairs to get her clean clothes. I heard her scream and rushed out of her bedroom – she was coming up the stairs covered in flames.
I grabbed her covered her in a quilt and rolled her over several times. I had put out the flames – I grabbed her dress and tried to rip it off her. I burnt my fingers but managed to get it off her. I got her into the bathroom and sat her in a bath of cold water as my husband phoned for the ambulance.
Ambulance came they wrapped her in cling film and took us to the nearest A&E who then referred us to the burns unit. Up the motorway at 90 miles an hour.
I remember singing Postman Pat to her.
It was awful. Must stop now as even now it hurts.
She had an unsuccessful skin graft – caught MRSA. was in a ward with old people! It was horrible.
What a moving post – I am so pleased everything went well with the operation.
I think this is something that most parents must feel, I know I do
Aghhhhh! I felt sick reading this. My husband wrote a textbook for junior Dr’s and used my daughter as a child ‘model’ for the pediatrics section. We went to hospital, fine. We met hubby and were taken to an unused anaesthetic room, fine. We met an anaesthetist friend who was going to be the Dr ‘model’, fine. We were put in different poses, fine… until my daughter was laying by herself on the table, with a mask taped on her face, eyes closed and i suddenly felt all chilled and horrible. And that was just pretend! I can half-way empathise with you. Pleased it all turned out well!!! And what a cute photo–happy little guy! x
This resonated with me on a big scale. Thankfully our little ‘un has never had to go into hospital but I remember at little over 6 months him coming down with a horrific stomach bug. He couldn’t keep water in for a while let alone food. We took him to the doctors, to A&E… nobody seemed overly worried which I guess I should have taken comfort from but I do remember me and my wife feeling horribly alone with it all and the constant worry.
She had 25% third degree burns and it was touch and go for a while.
It was awful – to watch her lying their in plaster up to her waist. And it was all my fault – I didn’t put up the fire guard! She was in hospital for 12 weeks and then over next two years had to go back in for more plastic surgery.
She’s 20 now and fine – just left with a small scar.
You have captured every parent’s worst fear so beautifully and succintly. It is strange how having a child really does bring out primeval, almost animal instincts in even the most rational people. So glad all went well!
And that worry, that fear for your children’s mortality never goes away, even as they grow up. At least, it hasn’t for me. My children are 16 and 12 and I always heave an inward sigh of relief when they come home from school every day safely. Every day. It never changes.
I’m glad all is well with your little one.
Yes, a hell of a rollercoaster of a ride, being a parent!
A really powerful post about something we can all relate to. It’s hard not to work yourself up about even about the slightest thing with your children. If there’s something not right, you automatically fear the worst and it doesn’t bear thinking about if anything were to go wrong. Glad it all went well with the tear duct op.
It is really odd, that until I read other people’s comments about their kids surgeries that I realized that I hadn’t even thought about the surgery my son went through recently and how I was getting really antsy when it started taking longer than I thought. and of course my emotions before he went in.
Karen Kirk-I just wanted to send you big hugs!
i must be on another planet today!
Thank you, it was hard but cathartic to write. and he didn’t even go through anything major…
Thanks hun, it is strange – I guess we all influence each other more than we know…
Thank you, it is a horrible feeling sin’t it. And to go through that at just a few weeks old…oh my heart goes out to you…
I’m sorry to hear that Liz, it must have been awful for you! I know how bad I felt and my little one wasn’t even sick…
That was it exactly – i didn’t care if he came back with one missing or both his legs chopped off i was just terrified that he wouldn’t wake up at all!
It does make all the little irritants of being a SAHM fall into perspective. At four months old – I can’t even imagine that fear. so sorry you had to go through that!
Ah, my heart goes to you and the little dude. Even just taking Miss P for a jab makes my heart drop to my tummy so I can completely understand your worries. I am so happy he is well. It really is a rollercoaster ride.
So scary, anything that might harm our babies. So pleased it went well and he is back to driving you nuts. Big hugs. x
Parenting:The agony and the ecstacy. From the minute they are conceived we agonise over whether we will lose them. I am pleased your little man’s duct is unblocked. Maybe your fear protects him and you – if you prepare for the worst it can only get better. The death of a child is the greatest loss. It’s hard to think we are all children of someone. One loop loop da loop successfully ridden. Onwards and upwards chick. xxx
Beautifully written post. Very timely for me too, my son is having surgery next Tuesday and I’m starting to brick it. It is very heart-wrenching watching their trusting little face when the mask goes on and then they just conk out and you have to leave the room and wait, hoping everything is okay. My daughter had surgery last year and she just looked so tiny and vulnerable in that big bed.
I had shivers reading that. I am so glad that everything went well, and that he is home safe and sound. It really puts things into perspective doesn’t it. Big, big hugs to you. A rollercoaster ride – definitely (in the dark, where you can’t see the end of the track and don’t know where your going or where you will end up – but massive thrills along the way). xx
phew, you had me worried there
Thank you, yeah everything is well now. But these kids don’t half give you a fright sometimes, eh?
Either you are completely normal or we are all odd together. I’, taking the kids to England in May and we will be spending some time at a caravan park with a swimming pool. i’m already terrified they are going to drown, get snatched, get lost, get run over…the list goes on.
Thank you! It is hard, isn’t it?
Oh Karen – i can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must have been. It puts my worries somewhat to shame I think. I have the overwhelming urge to give you a big hug.
thank you for being brave enough to share this and I am so pleased she is okay.
Thank you! He is perfectly fine now – back to causing mischief everywhere he goes!
oh bloody hell, having to see that must have been awful! Your imagination must have gone into overdrive!
It is such a horrid feeling of impotence isn’t it? Watching and being able to do nothing, knowing that if anything did go wrong you couldn’t save them. Makes me feel unwell just thinking about it!
It really does make us all a lot more primeval doesn’t it? Rationality goes out of the window.
Thanks Susie. It was 17 years ago but feels so raw still. When she caught MRSA the smell of the rotting flesh was indescribable. Like death.
I was pregnant with my second child and at university at the time – what a struggle.
I am half looking forward to and half dreading them starting school. Especially when you hear about these school shootings and things. Makes you want to get that big roll of cotton wool out and wrap them in it!
Thank you! We do work ourselves up don’t we? I guess it’s a survival thing…
the waiting when it is taking longer than you thought must be excruciating!
thank you! although i secretly quite enjoy the jabs because they sleep a lot more afterwards – does that make me evil?
thank you! Yes, you know all is well when they are back to making you want to list them on ebay!
thank you! yes, on hurdle over…lets hope the next isn’t coming anytime soon…
oh no, i have everything crossed for you and your little one!
Thank you! Massive thrills indeed! well put.
sorry about that! didn’t mean to frighten you.
What a hard decision to have to make – but you made the right one.
The paranoia I experience as a parent is on a whole new level! I still creep in and check on K when she is sleeping to make sure she is breathing (I know it’s ridiculous but I can’t help myself).
Lovely, messy pic of your little one & glad the op went well.
Oh how I understand. Big hugs to you! I sometimes get panicky if L even has a sniffle. One of my worst fears realised when we handed her over and she DID actually die… Think that makes it hard to parent the subsequent sibling? hmmmm. *nodding head vigorously*
Bloody hell Heather – that was painful to read. Harry had a terrible accident when we were away one year and as we were driving to the hospital with him slumped semi-conscious beside me, I suddenly realised the true meaning of utter terror. I’m so glad you’re little fella is ok xx
Oh, Heather. That was so moving. You are right – it’s a rollercoaster. I am glad that your little one is fine. xx
OMG, Heather, I re-lived my own experience when my son had his tonsils removed. I saw him lose his senses in my arms because of the anestetic and I was in panic thinking he would never wake up again. I’m sorry you had to go through the same feelings but glad that the little one is fine. Your fears are totally natural as there is nothing worse than losing you kids. I lost my nephew 5 years ago when he was only 15 and this ripped my heart apart. Although he wasn’t my child he was a part of me and what I still feel now about it is totally heartbreaking. That’s why the fear for my children’s health and wellbeing is even stronger now. Give your boy a big kiss for me. Ciao. A.
It sure is a rollercoaster. I’m so glad he’s okay and driving you mad! That’s his job.
CJ xx
What an awful feeling and situation to have to go through – it’s bad enough when they’ve just got a cold.
Big virtual hugs to you. I would be the exactly the same. Pleased it all went well. xx
thank you , that’s his usual state most days. sigh.
I do that checking on them thing too. especially if they have slept longer than they normally do!
oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry, It must make it unbearable to hand her over to doctors now.
I am so sorry to hear that, I hope he recovered just fine.
Thank you Audrey.
I will, thank you. I’m so sorry to hear about your nephew.
It sure is
Having them in any kind of pain or being sick is awful, isn’t it?
Thank you!
Awwww, I know exactly how you felt. My middle son had to have a simple operation when he was a year old and it terrified me. Now, my youngest has to have some dental work done in which they will likely put him to sleep for it and I just can’t cope with the worry. I’m hoping to get it scheduled today. =(
Ah I’ve got nothing to add that everyone else hasn’t already said. But I too know the feeling. And I know the shame-like guilt you feel for even feeling it, especially when it is something minor and you know children are suffering through things much more horrible and their parents are holding up. And the fear you feel that your child will sense your fear and thus make it harder for them . . .
Strangely enough, although I went through all the similar fears when my eldest had to be put under for a minor procedure, my youngest has been in hospital incredibly ill and the feelings were completely different. I think when it’s something really, really, serious your adrenaline takes over and fear is not permitted within your body – it gets turned into action instead. But when you’re afraid and feeling somewhat foolish for being afraid and there’s nothing more “serious” to distract you from your fear, you end up dwelling on it and making it worse.
That’s how it seemed to go with me, anyway.
As for fear of children’s mortality, it’s so easy to fear those things that are out of control (drowing, snatching, etc) and yet so often we hear of children being hurt because of something that was in the parent’s control that they neglected to do just that once. That’s what scares me even more – that one of my children will die because I let go their hand crossing the seat or forgot to buckle their car seat or lost them in the woods. And yet we all make mistakes and measure risks – we must let them live and experience life.
And Karin – I feel so much for you. I think we’ve all at one point been a little neglectful just for a minute and had something happen to one of our children. Lucky for most of us, it’s nothing so serious as what your daughter experienced. But trust me, there but for the grace of God go all the rest of us. We all make mistakes. The fact that your daughter (and the rest of your family) made it through all that intact and fairly unharmed 9in the end) shows what an amazing mom you are. If you had been a truly neglectful parent your daughter would not have had the strength to make it through her recovery.
Like I said, nothing new to add, but I do manage to blather on, don’t I? Just wanted to sympathise with you and everyone else and let you know in my own way that it is completely normal and if we didn’t have such fears we’d perhaps not be such great parents. True strength is not being never afraid, but feeling fear and carrying on anyway.
He did thanks honey x
((((((((((Heather))))))))))
My first son was born with a hair lip and a cleft palate, it meant for the first few years of his life we were in hospital for what were ‘cosmetic surgery’ operations. But I felt exactly like you every single time and you know what? I feel like it today too, I could still lose him to a car crash (God forbid) an accident, a lethal disease, anything. So we must learn to savour every second with them.
You know the hardest part was letting him go adn grow into the adult he is today.
Yes, this parenting is the wackist ride of them all but I wouldn’t give it up for the world.
oh no, i’m sorry. ((hugs)) i hope it all goes smoothly!
Dara you always manage to say the things i want to in a much better way. What a wonderful comment, thank you!
I know I’ve been very lucky in things that have happened when i should have been in control but stop concentrating for those crucial seconds. we can’t be everywhere and stop everything and like you said – we have to let them live and experience life as well.
i know what you mean, that fear is always there, and it’s probably a good thing, it helps protect them when needed and give them strength but also makes us appreciate the time we have with them all the more. a crazy ride indeed!
Boooaaahhh. That really made me cry.
I am so happy to hear that he is alright.
The jabs alone made me feel like that…
Very well written, how scary for you, so glad he’s mended
Rachelx
Wow, it was so touching to read I started to cry. I don’t have any kids, but I’ve had pets that I loved so much they felt like kids, and I’ve had these thoughts and feelings myself with them. With your babies, I can only imagine the fear is a thousand times stronger.
Heather glad to hear surgery went well and your little one is fine. What a scary moment. Yes parenthood is a rollercoaster of emotions. We have our ups and downs. Even before Isabela was born I worried about her.
Oh boy – touched a nerve with all of us on that one. It’s a constant battle for me to hold back my paranoia about what might happen and not spend all my time staring at my little one in terror of what might happen. I am only ever 1 step away from blind panic these days!
Oh I am sobbing here. My little one has to have an op soon, on his thumb and I’ve been putting it off and off, but I can see he needs it and I just can’t bear it. It’s torture and I’m sure every single parent whos little one has to have an operation goes through exactly the same thing xxxxx
Gawd yes – one of those “Should I say no today?” “Should we do this tomorrow or next week or never or now” – I remember them – I now accept that these things cannot be guessed and are not predetermined and that life just will. All the time. And I breathe.
My heart was beating like crazy when I read this. What an incredible post and so honest!
It’s an awful feeling that something might happen isn’t it?
thank you Rachel, it was scary but he’s fine now, that’s all that matters.
the fear of death for anyone or thing we love is always going to be very painful i think.. thank you.
Thank you! It certainly is a rollercoaster! All those out of you control things that could go wrong…scary stuff if you spend too long thinking about it.
My heart goes from normal to thumping out of my chest several times a day with bangs a crashes yells and screams around our house! little bleeders certainly keep us on our toes, eh?
It is torture. i have everything crossed for you and your little guy.
breathing – that’s always a good thing to remember. Scary stuff this parenting, huh?
Thank you.
Oh wow. This was both terrifying and beautiful all at once. As parents we are constantly in fear of losing our children, and very few of us are lucky enough to not have to face a situation like this (or worse)… I am so glad he’s doing good!
That was a heartbreaking post and so well written. Glad he’s fine
I can’t imagine anything more terrifying!! That was so moving. So happy your baby is ok
Glad all went well. How horrific the thoughts that invade our heads sometimes. It is a fear of every parent and hugs to all those who have lost a child. It’s the greatest loss a person can experience, i’d imagine.
What a cute little man and what an amazing post. I think its one absolutely every parent can relate to. The feeling of wanting to scoop them up in your arms and protect them from everything is sometimes overwhelming. I’m so pleased the operation was a success and your little man is on the mend x
thank you! He is fine, but these scary moments are, well, scary.
Thank you!
Thank you Mandy, it was terrifying but I guess that’s motherhood for you.
These thoughts just come in and take over sometimes, don’t they?.
Thank you1 Yes, that feeling that in your arms they are fine, you can protect them from anything. It’s a powerful thing.
Oh God yes. But that fear (is there a transit of Pluto going on? Something on Sticky Fingers touched on the same area) just hovers in the background, all the time. You put it very well.
This literally had me in tears as I was reading. So perfectly put. Exactly how I felt when Jasper went for his hernia op. It was so difficult not to breakdown when I was holding his hand as they putting him to sleep. Possibly the longest day of my life.
I felt exactly the same each time one of my children went for operations. It never got any easier. Also, I’ve had two of my childrens mortality feared just like you. I’m glad you wrote this post xxx
I remember when my oldest son was 11 and snapped his wrist (a regular habit). They had to put him under to get it back together again and I remember almost collapsing as I left him in the room. They came rushing out about 20 minutes later asking me if he had any allergies because his tongue was swelling, but thank god all was well. I pity any parent whose child is really really sick.
As a dad we play tough when our children are hurting, telling them to “rub some dirt on it.” But on the inside is exactly like your post. Thank you for sharing.
OMG your post brought back so many emotions for me. I had those same exact thoughts every time I’ve had to sign a consent form to put Meggers under for her MRI’s. I sobbed and sobbed this past year when they wheeled her off for surgery on her jaw. Here’s a post I did with some pics of her she was pitiful. http://kirsty815.wordpress.com/2009/03/08/meggers-surgery-update/
How on earth do medics who become parents cope? I have a friend who was a paediatric nurse before having her own kids, and she says it has made her more anxious. I guess she’s seen stuff the rest of us don’t have to know about until we need to.
Glad it was a success, and his tear duct is unblocked, because he’ll be needing that for when he’s a parent himself.
thank you. I think there must be something going on I read about fear of death or parenting on several blogs yesterday.
It’s awful isn’t it? My son was only out for a couple of hours but out felt like a week.
by the way, your profile on this comment doesn’t link to anywhere and i don’t recognsie your picture. Do you blog? would love to know where?
Such a terrifying feeling, isn’t it?
Same here. I can’t imagine how awful it must be. I don’t want to either if truth be told. Your son regularly snaps his wrist? Youch!
that is interesting to hear in light of what Dotterel said above about asking other dads and drawing a blank. Just a macho exterior, then?
oh no, that must have been awful! Putting their lives in someone else’s hands is so frightening, isn’t it?
ha ha ha, how right you are! I’d never thought about the nurses becoming parent thing – they must see so much that it is almost too painful…
Argghh… don’t seem to be able to get the hang of this Disqus commenting! My blog is twobecomefour – http://tillyandjas.blogspot.com
Excellent, yes i recognise you now! thank you for asdding the link,
sometimes my mind is like swiss cheese and i forget the stupidest of things!
Not sure if I’ve mentioned it but there’s an award for you over at mine so check it out x
I was holding my breath reading that. Very very well written, I was with you in the room. I can’t even bear to write about that topic, I alluded to it in a post, but couldn’t make the words come out. Horrible.
OMG – being a parent is so scary isnt it? Glad to hear your little one’s op went well
Thank you! That really means a lot. It is horrible. I can’t read it back
without tearing up.
isn’t it just! thank you.
So been there.
Glad he’s ok
Thank you!
It is a rollercoaster! Even without operations on the children. Doesn’t bear thinking of all the things that could go wrong.
So glad he’s all better. x
Thank you1 i know, we can drive ourselves mad thinking of all the ‘what
could happen’s’.
My mother always said, losing a child is the worst thing that can happen to you. She always worried about my sister and me. From our birth till the day she died.
She sounds like a great woman!
You poor old thing. We’ve only had to go to hospital for emergencies – it was terrifying everytime but at least there wasn’t that awful anticipation.
Rollercoaster doesn’t even begin to cover it!
Eek! i don’t know what’s worse, emergencies or scheduled…i’d rather have neither i think!
I dont know why I have missed a load of your blogs so just catching up! Although I need to go find the tissues after this one as it remindedme of how I felt when H was in SCBU. But if I ever had to go through my kids having a procedure that involved anesthetic, I would be right where you were,it’s bad enough when it’s me, I always think I wont wake up again! Your right though, one hell of a rollercoaster!
oh, that must have been so hard for you! i feel sick just thinking about it
to be honest.
These kind of thoughts and worries plague me everyday and I’m lucky enough to have 2 healthy, beautiful children. I’m glad to hear the surgery went well and he’s back to his old self again.
Thank you. It is awful just contemplating it, isn’t it?
Wow I could hardly bear clicking on this link, let alone reading it. So powerful and wrenching, even though it turned out ok. It strikes at the heart of everything we most love and fear as parents.
This time last year my then one month old was in hospital with some serious question marks over his future. Now that seems like a lifetime away. We really have to count our blessings each and every minute.
We really so. thank you for reading it even though it was hard.