So far this month has brought great challenges and insights. The most profound challenge happened fairly recently and brought with it many insights! Just about a week ago I brought my son to campus for a research talk and committee meeting. Because we only have childcare 3 days a week he often joins me on campus. This particular day we had to wake him up before he was ready in order to drop my husband at work and then get to school. He was unusually groggy but I attributed that to his being woken up early. During the talk and my meeting he was irritable and sleepy. He took two relatively short naps but never appeared his perky self. The room we were in was also hot and felt more like a sauna than a lounge. After my committee meeting I noticed that his cheeks were bright red and his neck felt like it was on fire! I took his shoes and socks off hoping that would help him cool off. Before we ventured out for our long walk back to the car, I went down to my office to feed him and bring his body heat down. I didn’t want to bundle him up while he was still overheated, so I figured a short break would be good. He ate his sweet potato puree with very little enthusiasm and eyes barely open. Shortly after feeding him he violently threw up and wailed. I was stuck in my tracks!
I had only one change of clothes and knew we had to make all the way back to the car so I wasn’t sure how soon I should change him. My mind swirled with questions. What if he gets sick again and we’re out in the cold? How high is his temperature? Should I wait here in my office or take him outside? Should I call the doctor or am I being a neurotic first time parent? Fortunately, a friend and colleague heard my son crying and came down the hall to see what was going on. Her simple remark and presence snapped me back into action. She asked, “Can I help with anything,” I said, “Yes, can you grab an outfit out of his diaper bag.” Clearly not a profound dialogue, but exactly what I needed. We made it to the car without incident and on the ride home I placed a much needed call to my mom. She urged me to call the doctor—if for no other reason for peace of mind.
When I got home I took my son’s temperature and he did have a low grade fever. I called the pediatrician and made an appointment for that afternoon. He was fine. By 7 pm that night it was all a distant memory for him. He was back to his perky self, eating and drinking normally. I however, was not “fine.” It was the first time I questioned myself as a mother and academic. I questioned my priorities and my ability to prioritize my responsibilities. I wanted to move home. To be home.
That night I talked out my anxieties with my friends and my husband; that helped. Of course, I still miss home and can’t help but to think that “life” would be easier if I weren’t in the middle of a PhD program 3000 miles away from home…easier maybe, but really, life wouldn’t be better. I realized that every time I work through “trauma” (either real or made up), I become stronger, I build new and more coping mechanisms, I build stronger and more meaningful relationships, and I learn how to accept my everyday imperfections.
My son and I are both feeling much better now. I imagine we’ll hit many more obstacles but I have a better plan for working through them—theoretically. I’m also working to remember that although being in school and working for a stable future goes in the “good mommy” (if not the responsible contributing human) category, it also occasionally complicates “life.”