Growing Up With a Sick Mommy

I worry sometimes about what it will be like for my son to grow up with a sick Momma (although I always hold out hope for a cure any day).   At the moment he’s so young and doesn’t know how thankful I am that he still takes 4-5 naps a day so I can have some downtime and let my brain rest.  He doesn’t know that most houses are filled with light and sunshine, instead of closed blinds and low watt light bulbs.  He doesn’t know that sometimes when Daddy comes to take him it’s because Mommy’s not feeling well and not just because Daddy can’t wait to hang out with him (although Daddy enjoys it too).  He doesn’t know that the reason Mommy isn’t there every morning when he wakes up is because she desperately needs her rest in order to make it through the day.  He doesn’t know that the reason Daddy carries him up the steps many times, is because sometimes Mommy can barely walk up the steps herself without huffing and puffing.  He doesn’t know that the reason he doesn’t go out many places is because Mommy gets over stimulated even faster than him and most trips are a chore.  Even when I’m not feeling well he is showered with kisses, cuddles and lots of love.  So, I’m sure it will be like what most adults say looking back at their childhood  -- “I didn’t know any different.”