Religion and the dying child

Photo by James Chan via SXC

Photo by James Chan via SXC

Since I started this blog I’ve skirted around the topic of religion. It’s something people often have very strong and opposing opinions on and I don’t want alienate anyone either way. Except that, when you have a terminally ill child, there is no way of skirting around religion. Your faith and the faith of others is simply unavoidable.

No matter where you stand on religion, it’s hard to avoid in a hospital setting. Bedside visits from hospital chaplains; local church groups giving presents at Christmas; friends, family and random strangers offering to pray for you; gifts of rosary beads and religious tokens – it’s all part and parcel of having a sick child. Continue reading


The guilt of imagining a life without him

Copyright: <a href=''>wavebreakmediamicro / 123RF Stock Photo</a>I have a secret that I’m not very proud of, something that may shock a few people… every so often I would let myself dream about a life ‘post-Aidan’.

Don’t get me wrong, I never wanted him to die but occasionally I would think about what our life would be like without him.  I would imagine that ‘post-Aidan’ we might move to a new house – one that isn’t so close to the hospital, one that might have carpet or even stairs.  Perhaps we could take a holiday to somewhere other than Bear Cottage.  Maybe I could embark on a new career.

I sometimes hoped that ‘post-Aidan’, Anthony and I could have the life we dreamed of – you know, the one where we go camping and take the kids to sports on the weekends, like something out of a TV show. I imagined that would be our family, version 2.0. Continue reading

Mother’s Day: a rollercoaster of emotions

MotherEarlier this week, I drafted the post below.

“This weekend is Mother’s Day in Australia and like all other major holidays, I am starting to feel anxious.

Instead of being excited about the day, I feel overwhelmed with fear and sadness. What if this is my last Mother’s Day? What if it falls short of the ‘ideal’ Mother’s Day you see on TV? You know the ones where the children (in my case child) run into the bedroom with breakfast and a beautiful, but horribly made, card from preschool or day care.

So here I am, instead of revelling in the opportunity to be a mother and to have my son with me by my side, I’m throwing my own little pity party. Continue reading