Healthy, Happy, and Humbled

Recently, for the third time since becoming a Mommy nearly four years ago, I found myself walking through the doors of The Children's Hospital. As the mother of two healthy children, I cannot think of a more harrowing and humbling experience. Each time I was at the hospital for routine tests for my children. I was aware that the simple nature of my appointment was likely the exception to the purpose of the other parents' visits.
The hospital is a cheerful place with some of the friendliest staff I've ever encountered. The gentlemen who parked our car in the valet lot greeted Murphy and me with a big smile... and asked if we'd be needing a wheelchair or a wagon. Those little red wagons... just thinking about them can bring a tear to my eyes. Classic Radio Flyer wagons have IV poles attached to them and are used to pull kiddos all around the campus. I felt a tinge of guilt in saying that we'd need neither.
The atrium of the hospital is colorful and lively both in decor and atmosphere; there's even a little ice cream shop and a kids' library. Children can be seen being pulled around in their little wagons licking from chocolate or vanilla scoops. This sight may resemble a playground on a spring day, if not for the child wearing a hospital gown and having a head bald from treatments.

I especially take notice of all the parents and caregivers who are accompanying the children. How many days of work has that mother had to miss? Does that father risk losing his job by spending so much time at the hospital? Does their insurance cover the bulk of the financial burden? Are there siblings at home who are sacrificing time with their parents because of their sick brother or sister? Does the sick child have any awareness or feel any guilt for how his or her illness affects the family? Are the parents ridden with fear and holding back tears? How does it feel to see your child in constant pain?
I have never made it as far as the radiology waiting room (that's where I've needed to take my girls on each of my trips) without my eyes welling up with tears. During my first visit when Carter was only about six weeks old, I remember holding her so close to me as if I thought some of these seriously ill children may be contagious.

Across this waiting room, I've met the eyes of other parents 

with an enormous sense of guilt for the health of my children. 

Following this most recent visit, Murphy and I waited outside the hospital for our car to be brought around. I noticed another mom who was also leaving the hospital with her son. She had a 'personal belongings' bag in her hand indicating to me that the little fella may have been in the hospital for a night or two. As I nuzzled my Murphy, still feeling quite emotional after our visit, I watched this mom talk loudly on her cell phone. Every minute or so, she'd look up to spot her son and then to yell at him to stop playing in the dirt. After about five minutes, a taxi pulled up; without ending her phone call, she prodded her little boy towards the car. Though he was probably no older than two, she pushed him up in the backseat of the cab with no car seat - or seatbelt for that matter. She climbed in beside him, and off they went.
The scene was so interesting to me because I was amazed at how another mom, with what seemed to be a relatively healthy child, could leave this place and not be impacted as I was. I would not describe her behavior as abusive in any way, just unaffected. I had a strong urge to stop her; to shake her; tell her to look around; tell her to hold that little boy so tightly; remind her of the reality of the lives of so many of the families who were surrounding us.
During the days that followed our visit, I found myself thinking about The Children's Hospital, the families who are in desperate need of its services, and the children who fortunately have a joyful place to be in spite of their physical calamities. I also thought about that mom with the little boy and the cell phone and the taxi.
As difficult as spending even one moment in that environment is, I feel grateful that it has impacted me so deeply during each visit. I am thankful for a tangible reminder that each of my girls is a perfect creation, and their health is an additional blessing that is too often taken for granted. During moments of frustration derived from petty sicknesses like ear infections and asthma attacks, I will try to pause and remember that every single day parents are faced with the reality that their children may not have another year, another month, another day. And with that reality, I'll strive to make the most of each of ours.

Healthy, happy girls.

Immensely loved by this humbled Mommy.