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Days like these

It’s been a weird couple of days as I try to juggle work with the unexpected demands of a child having “attacks” which have required I drop everything to focus on my number one responsibility – taking care of the person my husband and I created.

Let me start by saying this is not a post about our child or his health. I believe with all my heart that he is going to be fine. That it is probably nothing. Or it certainly isn’t as bad as it could be.

But as I sit here, trying to catch up on the work that has been neglected over the last 48 hours, and waiting to hear from our pediatrician on the test results, I find myself reflecting on how lucky and fortunate I am.

Fortunate to have the resources – both insurance and finances – to access the experts and expertise to help us track down what is causing the attacks. And the confidence those resources give me that, whatever we discover, we will be able to continue to access the experts and expertise we need.  (This may be false confidence, but I’m holding onto it like a security blanket).

Lucky to work with understanding clients who, upon hearing why I was leaving work early or had to postpone calls, not only shared their concerns and experience with me, but have checked in today to see how he is doing. Some are parents. Some are not. All fill me with gratitude and “warm fuzzies.”

Fortunate to be backed by a partner and team at my agency who can keep projects moving and taking care of clients when I need to be somewhere else and cannot give anything the attention it needs. Fortunate to also have the technology and the flexibility to take my work home, so that I can have one eye on the screen and one eye on the boy.

Lucky to have a community of moms to whom I can turn, both virtually and in-person, for advice, comfort and some time and space to not be mom, not be wife, not be anything but a girl sitting at a counter, drinking a beer and talking about bikes.

Fortunate to have a spouse who bears the brunt of my stress and my fear and doesn’t throw something at me when I may deserve it. Who may not realize, because I didn’t say it, that I notice the bowl that was set out next to the oatmeal, or the coffee maker that was warming up, this morning.

Lucky to have a venue, and the limited words, to vent. To get it all out so I can get my head back in the game, even if for a few hours, until the thoughts start to creep back in my head and I pack up my bag and head for home.

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