A letter to my child without CF.

To my biggest boy,

You held my hand as my world fell apart with Chester’s diagnosis and despite trying my best to hide things from you, you have seen me at my worst. You have sat by my side through my darkest of times and without even knowing you have helped me to find the courage to face the world and see that everything will be ok.

You have sat on my lap, snuggling under an itchy blanket next to Chester’s hospital cot, you have spent nights sharing a cramped foldaway bed being woken periodically by the alarms on Chester’s monitor or the noisy nurse clattering around in the dark and you have you have waited patiently for Chester to fall asleep to be able to escape his room and go to the playroom.

You have had broken sleep from Chester’s coughing when he has been ill, you have spent far too many long and boring days sat in hospital rooms with limited access to the playrooms, making do with a hospital table and repetitive movies and activities.  You have been disappointed at family holidays and days out being cancelled due to hospital admissions and at times you have been pushed from pillar to post to allow me time to care for Chester when he has been extremely poorly.

You have coped with all life has thrown at you, you have your moments and your meltdowns but I understand that you need to let off steam, we all need to at some time or another and this is just your way.  Sometimes we are thrown into the most difficult of situations, and for someone so young you have an amazing ability to just take it in your stride.

I have shouted at you to be quiet when I’ve been trying to listen to the Doctors talking to me about Chester, I’ve told you off for trying to push buttons on his machines and I’ve yelled at you for not being careful around Chester always telling you to ‘watch his port’.  I’ve been cross with you when you have forgotten to cover your coughs or when you haven’t washed your hands and I’ve been frustrated with you when you have been impatient waiting for Chester’s treatments to be over.

For someone so small I have asked a lot of you, I have asked you to be patient and to be quiet, to be calm and to wait.  I have wished for you to grow up quicker than I should have, and I have expected you to be more mature than you should be.

Since becoming a big brother you have had to learn to share, not just toys and a seat next to me, but you have had to learn to share my time and I know at times it doesn’t fall in your favour or that at times I am distracted, but know I do my best to make sure that the time we do get to share is time you will remember.

I have always tried to shield you from the darker side of CF whether that be sending you on an ‘errand’ upstairs when I need to discuss something about it, desperately doing my best to change the subject to avoid answering your difficult questions or sometimes having to tell you little white lies to keep me from having to tell you the truth.

Witnessing the love, you have for your brother, in between the daily sibling fighting, fills my heart and I am full of pride.  I know that you will love and guide Chester and you will be there for him when things are hard for him.

What the future holds is unknown, but I know that one day your world too may be darkened by the reality of CF, you will probably have all kinds of feelings that you will struggle to deal with, just remember no matter what we have been through and no matter what we still must face, we will do it, together, holding hands.

Love you to the moon and beyond

Mummy xx 😘

17 thoughts on “A letter to my child without CF.”

  1. This is me! One of my biggest fears is the impact on Keir if things turn bad. Although we were at disney today and he was loving getting to skip the queues because of his brother!!

    Like

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