Epic Mom Fail

Have you ever had one of those mom moments when you feel like you completely and utterly have failed? Well, I had one of those yesterday.

It's not a secret that starting this shot regiment has not been easy. They hurt, I'm crabby, I cry a lot and I've been battling panic attacks--which may or may not be a side effect of the medicine. That last side effect is what led to my mom fail.

The other night I was trying to explain to Mark what it felt like.

"I feel like I'm going to die."

I thought we were alone. I thought it was just us. If I didn't, I never would have said it. But apparently we weren't. My oldest daughter, Maddie, had heard. I knew she had. I saw the look on her face.

The effects of MS on my kids has been the hardest part of this disease. I see the way they look at me--afraid, nervous, worried. I've tried hard to maintain an "everything is fine and normal" attitude with them, but sometimes it's just not possible.

So I wasn't overly surprised when I got a call from school yesterday saying that Maddie was sick. "She said she feels like she's going to throw up," said the nurse. I know the feeling well. It's exactly how I feel when I'm worried. Maddie may be a clone of her father in so many ways, but when it comes to being a worrier, she's all me.

After I picked her up and brought her home, I asked her point blank if she was worried about something. I didn't need to ask. I knew the answer. I've heard it from her before.

"I'm worried about you."

Nothing quite cuts at a mom's heart like hearing your child say that. It's just not supposed to be that way. I sat and explained what I had meant when I said that, how I was going to be fine, how this is going to be a process for us all. And then we sat together for a long time, just me and my--not so little anymore, but always my baby--girl.

Today she's better. I'm a little better. I think that's the way this journey is going to be--day by day, step by step, but hand in hand the whole way.