My Mommy, My Baby

"We never know the love of the parent till we become parents ourselves."
- Henry Ward Beecher

Jacob declined my offer to pick him up from school and bring him home where I can nurse him through the nasty head cold that has knocked him off his feet. I was relieved it turned out to be a head cold, showing none of the hallmarks of H1N1 or any other strain of flu. Though I know he'd really like to be home where I can take care of him, he plans to lay low today and try to recover enough to hit class tomorrow. Every mother knows how hard it is when her child is sick. It seems it still applies even when that child is eighteen. I hate it when Jacob is sick. If I could take it away from him by suffering it myself, I would do it gladly.

My Sunday afternoon found me at my Mom's today. I knew she came down with a cold yesterday and had been placed in isolation so today's visit required us to be masked and gloved. I thought it would be confusing for her but it actually didn't matter. She didn't open her eyes at any point during the hour-and-a-half I was there. The nurse struggled to give her the medication which had been prescribed though it was mashed and hiding in a spoon of applesauce. She refused to open her mouth and then to swallow once the medication got spooned in. She hasn't had anything to eat or drink since Friday. Dehydration is becoming a serious concern. As I sat in my Mom's room, I thought about the similarities between Jacob being sick and my Mom being sick. Mom is displaying the same behaviors that Jacob did when he was three or four-years-old. And I'm feeling just about the same way about her illness as I do about Jacob's. If I could take it away from her by suffering it myself, I would do it gladly.

The difference between Jacob and Mom is that as Jacob gets older, he is better able to cope. It's easier to take care of him than it was when he was small. I don't have to mash his pills and hide them in applesauce anymore. I don't have to coax every drop of fluid into his mouth. I know my Mom did those same things with me and Nan and Cath when we were small and wished she could take our illness from us even if the way to do that was to bear it herself. And now it comes full circle. Nan is at Mom's bedside, coaxing and soothing, mothering my mother. And everything that goes around, comes around.