Currently, I am battling a chest infection. It’s possible I have pneumonia, bronchitis, or even whooping cough. As a self-employed mother of two, visiting the doctor isn’t exactly a priority; it’s somewhere around number 57 on my ever-growing to-do list. Instead, I am resorting to self-medication and hoping for the best.
Last night, after a vigorous coughing fit, I found myself reminiscing about the days before my kids came along—those blissful years when being sick felt like a mini-vacation. I would wake up on a Monday with a slight cold (often accompanied by a hangover) and adopt my best raspy voice to inform my boss that, even though I was eager to work, I couldn’t risk spreading my illness to my colleagues. My boss would agree that it was best for everyone if I took a sick day, and I would celebrate my unexpected day off in silence.
Of course, this was during an era before remote work became the norm. I would roll back into bed, sleeping until noon, treating myself to a bacon sandwich (purely for medicinal purposes), and indulging in daytime television—all while remaining in my pajamas. Occasionally, my mother would bring over homemade chicken soup, or my boyfriend (now husband) would call from the pharmacy, offering to pick up cough drops and soothing tissues. Oh, how I miss those days of being pampered while ill!
Now, living in Spain, I can’t simply call my mom for some comforting soup; any delivery would likely arrive cold and spilled. When I inform her of my current state, she chuckles, not out of cruelty but more in a ‘welcome to motherhood’ manner. She’s waited a long time for me to experience the challenges I once put her through. Her advice is always the same: if mothers dare to fall ill, it must be done while remaining upright. We don’t receive sympathy or support, and we certainly shouldn’t frighten the family into thinking they might be without their mother. Save that for when you’re truly on your last legs.
She also reminds me that ever since I hosted a birthday party for my two-year-old just three days after giving birth, I’ve set the standard for myself. My husband, too, is less than sympathetic. This morning, after waking the entire household with my relentless coughing—which likely alarmed the neighbors—he suggested I sleep in the spare room because he needed his rest for a busy day ahead.
So here I am, pushing through. After a week of coughing and feeling generally unwell, I discovered an old packet of antibiotics that I hope will help with my chest infection. I’ve also downed some dubious-looking black syrup that seems straight from the depths of despair. Neither seems effective, but at least I’m making an effort.
Now entering my second week of sounding like a chain smoker, I secretly convince myself that my husky voice is alluring. In reality, it just means I can no longer hit the high notes of my kids’ favorite Disney songs—much to their relief. Today, during a particularly intense coughing spell while on the phone with a client, I found myself racing to the bathroom, tears streaming down my face as I gasped for air. My three-year-old, aware of my struggle, rushed in with concern.
“Don’t worry,” I wheezed, holding onto the towel rack for support. “Mommy’s fine.”
“I know,” she replied, “I just want to know when dinner will be ready.”
And that, dear readers, sums up the reality of being ill while parenting—always vertical, always on duty.
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In summary, navigating illness as a mother is a challenge that requires a unique blend of resilience and humor. Between managing family needs and coping with personal health issues, the experience is anything but easy, yet it is all part of the journey of motherhood.
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