Helpless

She whispered to me, in breaks and starts, "I'd rather have a bloody nose than be sick like this. Because a bloody nose doesn't last that long."

I agree with her.

Each time a child of mine is in agony with a flu or other virus, I am in another kind of agony watching his or her suffering. Through my daughter's chills, the fever, the pains, the heaving, she suffers slowly and continually throughout the day.

We've endured many traumatic and at least one life-threatening event in our children's lives, and the range of emotions and thoughts that a parent experiences at those moments is inexplicable. But in those moments of despair, there's also a call to action, a rush of adrenaline: save the child, solve the problem, repair the damage. Yet watching a child suffer a common virus makes me feel so helpless for so long. Pain relievers may, well, temporarily relieve some of the aches and pains, but they do nothing to cure the virus. There's nothing I can do but watch, and hold, my child until the battle within her body is over.

Yesterday, my daughter grimaced with stomach and head pain and cried silent tears nearly all day. Her words, when rarely spoken, came out in whispered sentence fragments. If there had been anything I could do to end her suffering, I would. But I couldn't. She had a common virus and it had to run its course.

Today, thankfully, she's better. The fever has broken, her aches and pains are gone. She is simply worn out from yesterday's battle and needs much rest. I will still be here to hold her and make her comfortable. That's what mommies are for.