By Kelly Wilton
As I step into the hospital lift, the weight of my emotions becomes overwhelming. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. I have a mere 8 floors to compose myself, about 6 seconds to regain my composure.
As the lift doors open, I take a deep breath and step into the bustling hospital foyer, grounding myself in the present moment. The emotions that were surging just moments ago are once again suppressed.
A few moments earlier, I had kissed my son on the cheek before he was wheeled away for his second brain operation in two years. I can’t help but wonder, “How is this happening again?”
This is a familiar experience for parents like me, raising children with chronic and complex conditions. We find ourselves frequenting hospitals—attending therapy sessions, doctor’s appointments, and consultations with specialists. Most of the time, we push our feelings down, suppressing them repeatedly.
Yet, there comes a breaking point.
When that moment arrives, anyone in proximity risks bearing the brunt of a special needs parent who has reached her limit. And if we adhere to the mantra of kindness, we may swiftly apologize, make our excuses, and move on.
I often find myself in this state, empathising with family and friends who may struggle to comprehend what I’m going through. How could they truly understand? Unless they walk in our shoes, they simply cannot grasp the depths of our experience.
Nevertheless, despite the lack of understanding from those around us, we still require strength and support to continue our fight. Apart from the medical needs, the battle for essential services alone is enough to wear us down. These services are crucial for our children to live their best lives, yet they often remain inaccessible due to various barriers.
I have come to realize and firmly believe in the following:
Instead of considering my family too much for some people, perhaps those people are not enough for my family.
Therefore, it becomes necessary to break away from the circle that no longer serves us and rebuild it, smaller but stronger. We must carefully select those who have access to the extraordinary dynamics that define our family and fill our lives with individuals who provide unwavering support during challenging times, not just the great times.
It is imperative that we redirect our energy and emotions towards the right sources; otherwise, the risk of burnout looms ahead.
Our family dynamics, including yours and mine, deserve something more—something resilient, understanding, and nurturing.
Don’t be afraid to work towards it, your future self will thank you!
