It’s okay, Mama

To hear your child say “It’s okay, Mama” in the most sincere, genuine little voice is startling.  My two year old is parenting me.  He’s comforting me in a time of stress.  Shouldn’t it be the other way around?  It feels heart wrenching and inspiring at the same time.

We left the house at 8:20 AM for a 9:30 AM neuro-ophthalmology appointment in Boston.  We live 14 miles from Boston Children’s but always allow at least an hour, especially at rush hour time.  By 9:15 it became obvious that there wasn’t a chance we were going to be there remotely on time.  The traffic was terrible and we were barely halfway.  As the minutes ticked by and our ETA continued to climb well past 9:30, I said out loud to myself “Ugh I am so stressed, we are going to be so late.”  From the backseat I heard the sweetest little voice say:

“It’s okay Mama, we will get there.”

My eyes filled up.  He completely understood that I was stressed and why.  Those reassuring words meant the world coming from him, more than they would have meant from anyone else.

Caleb had every right to be cranky, annoyed, and antsy after spending well over an hour in traffic.  It felt so unfair that he had to spend his entire morning in the car instead of at daycare, running around at the playground.  Yet, he didn’t see it that way.

Long car rides to and from Children’s have been part of our life since he was born.  He went to 105 medical appointments in his first year of life, 66 in his second year, and we are up to 50 already in his third year with another 2 months to go.  The number of hours we have spent in the car and in the waiting room is astounding.  I can’t even bring myself to do the math.

And yet, my sweet 2 year old knows no different.  It’s part of life.  We make the most of it.  We sit on benches outside the hospital and eat snacks and wave to people coming and going.  We get stickers, prizes, balloons, and more.  We play Simon Says in the waiting room with another little friend.  We check out the cool toys that Child Life has in each clinic.  We socialize with the front desk staff and sometimes even get to be a helper.  We stop to look out the windows on the sky bridge down at all the cars and trucks on Longwood Ave.  We watch Mickey Mouse on my phone.  We leave a trail of stickers everywhere we go.  We make friends with literally every single person we encounter.  We pet the beautiful, sweet therapy dog.  We stop and look at the fish tank and the fun paintings on the walls.  These are the memories we get to make at the hospital.  Those few sweet words reminded me of all of this.  In the eyes of Caleb, a long drive into the hospital for a doctor’s appointment was nothing to be upset about.

This child who has been through more medical interventions than anyone should have to endure as an infant and toddler gives me so much strength.

It’s okay, Mama.  It’s okay.