There Are Hallways That I Wish I Never Saw

There are doors that I have walked through at my most desperate. Too many times to count.

In so over my head and afraid.

But nobody knew.

I kept my composure while doctors said things that would bring most to their knees.

I held it together for my child, who needed me to be strong.

I cried silently behind my sunglasses on the way home.

I straightened myself up and I picked up the rest of the kids after school, and nobody knew.

I smiled at the other parents and hugged my other kids hello.

I forced down a lump in my throat.

I learned how to trap my emotions despite it affecting my health, but there have been no other options.

This is the reality of parenting a child with a diagnosis. The pain, the silent suffering, knowing it will be too much to share with someone else and they wouldn't understand it anyway.

My heart aches for the moms who are forced to hide their pain.

If you have hallways and doors you dread, you aren't alone. If those walls could talk, they'd tell the stories of all of the mothers before us, advocating for their child and trying to be strong through the impossible.

You’re not alone.