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My beautiful, healthy baby boy
Is no longer a baby.
He’s a teen.
My beautiful, healthy teenage boy
Is no longer perfectly healthy
We sit now with words and knowledge
We can’t unlearn
No matter how much we wish we could.
Words loom before us like congenital.
Surgery.
Scary words for a child with no previous medical conditions.
A world of doctors, surgeries, revolving doors
Fears.
And we’re the lucky ones here.
What essentially may add up to nothing more than a lifelong inconvenience
Means he still has his life.
Others here… I know will not get that luxury.
We are the lucky ones.
I can’t unlearn
I can’t kiss this booboo and make it all better
I can’t do anything but offer encouragement and let the medicine (wo)men do their work.
Sincerely, Lori 
And don’t you wish you could unlearn it sometimes? I like your poem!
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So true, Lisa, so true! Many healing thoughts to you and your family for all you are going through. And an extra heaping of mom strength to keep you going!
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So tender, I can feel the sadness as well courage in facing such a situation. All the best, Lisa.
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Many thanks, Lisa. Hopefully all will be well soon.
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I just had a discussion Sunday with a friend on parent’s fears concerning their children’s health and well being. I’ll send it to her. I hope it helped you to write this poem, and to realize you are not alone facing this. Best of luck. Don
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Thank you Don. Maybe my words can help others who can’t quite express their own anxieties and fears.
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