When Parenthood Breaks You (and You Still Keep Going Anyway).

The start of my week wasn’t what I had hoped for. Actually, if I’m being honest, the last few weeks have been a slow, emotional unraveling, layer by layer, worry by worry. And I’m exhausted!

For the past three weeks, I’ve been getting almost daily calls from my son’s school. It started innocently enough… he was feeling faint and shaky. Once a week, maybe a bit more. But by the end of last week, it was happening nearly every day. Then, just when I thought things couldn’t feel any more serious, he had an episode so severe they had to wheel him to the sickbay in a wheelchair.

As a mother, I don’t need to tell you how terrifying that call was. My heart dropped. It’s every parent’s nightmare, not knowing what’s wrong with your child and being powerless to make it stop.

Our first thought, after seeing the doctor, was that it might be allergies - the heat, the pollen count, all the usual suspects. We got him some strong antihistamines and hoped for the best.

But the best didn’t come. The episodes continued.

Another doctor visit, another theory… this time about blood sugar fluctuations. If it happened again, we were told, come back. So of course, it happened again. And back we went. This time, we saw another doctor who was incredibly thorough. She checked him over, tested his blood sugar, and said we’d need to get blood work done if my son could overcome his phobia of needles.

Cue the emotional landslide.

On Monday, after yet another call from school, I’d had enough. My son’s wellbeing comes first, and I just needed answers. So I gave him a choice - either we go to A&E and wait it out, or we pick up the blood forms and try at the hospital. The kind doctor from the week before had prescribed numbing gel, and we did everything to prepare. But this wasn’t just about a quick jab and a bandage.

My son has a serious phobia of blood tests. The last time he had one, it went horribly wrong. They couldn’t get the blood out and ended up hitting a muscle. He was traumatised!!! And as much as I wanted to be the strong, calm, composed parent…I wasn’t.

We spent over three and a half hours at the hospital trying to get those bloods done. Multiple panic attacks. Him and me. He was terrified. I was terrified. It was a vicious cycle. We were each other’s mirrors, reflecting and amplifying every fear, every uncertainty. At one point, I collapsed down the wall outside the hospital and just sobbed. Full-body, soul-deep sobs. Because the thought of something being seriously wrong with my son is the single most terrifying thing in the world!

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, a wonderful nurse named Heather, an absolute angel who’s been doing this for 15 years, managed to get the blood on the first try. The relief in his eyes! The apology that came out of his mouth. He felt awful! He’d caused a bit of chaos in the department, and he knew it. So we immediately popped to the hospital shop, as he insisted on getting her a box of Roses to say thank you. That’s who he is. He’s kind. Thoughtful. Big-hearted. Even in the depths of fear, he finds room for compassion. He even insisted on buying me a coffee afterwards because he felt so bad. My beautiful boy!

I wish I had handled it all better… I wish I had been the rock he needed. But I was scared too! Almost as scared as he was.

Being a parent is so hard. And it doesn’t stop when you’re also working full-time, pouring your heart and soul into a job that demands everything and more. I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard in my life, and that says something, because I’ve always worked hard. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be taken seriously, professionally. I’m still trying to figure out why that nagging doubt exists. But I know one thing for sure: I want to show my son that dedication, passion, and hard work do mean something.

It’s hard being this emotionally invested in everything - my work, my family, my life. It’s draining in ways I can’t always put into words. But it’s who I am. I am loyal. I am honest. I am fiercely dedicated to the people I love and the things I care about.

This week knocked me sideways. But I’m still standing. A little shaky, a little emotionally frayed… but still standing.

Because that’s what parents do!

Have a great week!

Swanny xx