As a former educator, I approached motherhood with the same dedication I applied to my studies. I excelled academically, and upon learning I was expecting, I committed myself to being the best mother possible.
In the quiet corner of my local bookstore, surrounded by vibrant stacks of parenting guides, I immersed myself in a world of advice—sleep strategies, feeding techniques, parenting philosophies. I spent hours sifting through conflicting viewpoints until I discovered one that resonated with me. Attachment parenting seemed ideal, perhaps because it starkly contrasted my own upbringing. My mother left when I was young, and my sisters and I were raised by our father.
With a clean slate on parenting, I became fixated on learning every facet of it. I swaddled, sang, swayed, and shushed my way through my daughter’s infancy. I carried her close to my heart, enriching her life with books, music, and nature.
However, when she turned two, I fell ill, and all my preparation seemed irrelevant. I felt like I was failing as a mother. “I’ll bounce back once I get a full night’s sleep,” I assured my concerned partner, dismissing the troubling pains in my body. There was no room for self-care while caring for a small child.
My daughter was born prematurely, leading to sleepless nights where I barely managed 45 minutes of rest at a time. Keeping up with her needs was a relentless job, and by the time she was two, I was still struggling with her sleep. The knowledge I had gained didn’t apply to my reality of parenting a sick, premature child.
Then my health dramatically declined. I found myself in a fetal position, and my husband called for an ambulance. Two weeks later, after losing 24 pounds, I returned home with a diagnosis of Crohn’s disease, armed with an array of medications. “Let’s hope for remission,” the doctors told me, “but it varies for everyone.”
Confined to bed for months, I turned to writing. With my body too weak to hold itself up, I propped my head on pillows and tapped away on my laptop. I began crafting parenting articles for various magazines, and to my astonishment, they were well-received. Writing became my lifeline during a time when I couldn’t physically engage with my child.
It was a unique experience to write about parenting while unable to actively parent. I penned pieces like “Fun Activities to Do in Winter” and “Ways to Help Your Child’s Speech,” drawing from my own experiences. Writing allowed me to maintain a connection to my identity as a mother, even while my husband took on the bulk of parenting responsibilities.
For an entire year, I watched from the sidelines. I cherished our cuddle time, but even that grew painful with a lively toddler. Books became our primary means of connection. We’d snuggle in bed as I read aloud, sharing stories that she adored. It was my way of encouraging her and finding solace for myself.
Slowly, my health began to improve. One day, I watched as she played with her aunt, imagining a jungle adventure, filled with laughter. It made me question whether I truly couldn’t play with her or if I was simply afraid of the pain it might bring. A year of hospital visits and discomfort had taken their toll. Perhaps I was distancing myself to avoid the pain of my limitations, just as my mother had done.
Motherhood is often unexpected and complex; it can be painful. Now, over a decade later, my daughters, who are now pre-teens and teens, curl up beside me on the couch, sharing their own stories aloud. On days when I can do little else, I listen, read to them, and snuggle. There are times when they care for me more than I can care for them. I may not be the ideal parent I envisioned, but who needs perfection? Cuddles and stories come pretty close.
If you’re interested in more on this topic, check out this related blog post. For insights on home insemination, this resource is an authority on the subject. Additionally, March of Dimes offers excellent resources for those exploring pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
This article explores the challenges of parenting while coping with Crohn’s disease, detailing the author’s journey from preparation and research to the realities of illness and the adjustments made in parenting. Despite physical limitations, the author finds connection through writing and sharing stories with her daughters, ultimately redefining her role as a mother.

Leave a Reply