All the signs were there. All of the symptoms were there – but we missed it. Me, his mother, his doctors… In fairness to is doctors, we didn’t report every symptom. Who calls their doctor because they have dry skin? Or stomach cramps here and there? Or intermittent low grade fevers? It wasn’t until he had 2 months of diarrhea that we had the proper tests done to determine that his upper GI tract was filled with tiny ulcers and that is ileum was inflamed to the point of not absorbing nutrition from his food that we paid enough attention.

By the time we got an appointment to see a GI doctor he had lost 40 pounds and we were afraid it was cancer. Thankfully, that was not the case, but the diagnosis we received immediately put a huge lump in my throat.

As a parent I had failed. My one job was to ensure my child grows up safe, healthy and happy. I’ve failed on all counts. Is Crohn’s genetic? They are my genes. Is Crohn’s environmental? I created the environment. Is it Diet? I had control over his food. No matter how you look at this I am at least partially to blame for a disease that will alter the rest of his life and – if not controlled, cause him tremendous misery for years.

I’m not sure anything can prepare you for the news that your child is not perfect. That somehow they are broken. Consider how you would process the news that your child was a serial killer. Somehow their wires were crossed. Did you do this? Were you somehow responsible? Now replace that with news that your child has a progressive disease that is confirmed to be clearly, however minutely, your fault. It’s devastating on multiple levels. In some capacity you hurt your own child. On another level, that perfect life you wished for them is now going to be harder than it should be. They will carry this stigma of having a disease – in this case a potentially embarrassing poop related disease. You did this. You have cursed your child to poor health and hardship. Process that.

It’s also impossible not to treat him differently now. I know that this is not going to be fatal for him. It’s common enough that modern medicine is inching towards an actual cure – possibly in his lifetime. The guilt compels me to want to give him more than I should.

He doesn’t want to eat the way his doctor suggested. So I make excuses as to why it’s ok. I give into his whims more than I should because I feel like I’ve hurt him. I’m sure this will pass. I’m sure I’ll come to grips with it at some point.

Right now though, I feel like I’ve ruined his life.

#personal #writing