Parenting
It all started a few days after Christmas. My 9-month-old son, Oliver, had his first taste of tofu at a local Asian restaurant. After we got home, he settled down for a nap, but about an hour later, I was jolted awake by his screams. He was gagging and then violently vomiting, leading to severe dehydration. The doctor confirmed it was just a flu going around.
About six weeks later, we faced another scare when Oliver tried tofu again. This time, we were off to the emergency room for IV fluids and monitoring. To my shock, my sweet little boy was allergic to soy. The guilt of introducing this food and causing him such distress was overwhelming. Watching him suffer at such a tender age was heart-wrenching, and it felt like this was just the beginning.
I’ve often heard other moms share tales of their children rarely getting sick until they were two, or only experiencing one cold in their first year. Seriously?! Our journey was nothing like that. While the allergy could explain some of the challenges, it wasn’t the sole reason for his frequent illnesses. It felt like Oliver was on a never-ending rollercoaster of germs.
I might be biased, but I don’t think he’s a particularly filthy child. Sure, he occasionally touches toilet seats and has been known to lick shopping carts, but I believe he’s pretty typical for a toddler.
As he approached his second birthday, his illness frequency skyrocketed compared to other kids we knew. In just six months (while I was expecting our second child), he battled pneumonia, a UTI, hand, foot, and mouth disease, countless colds, and at least two rounds of the stomach flu. It seemed like he was constantly sprawled on the couch, watching cartoons, and moaning in discomfort.
Seeing him like this was heartbreaking, especially after spending the first 18 months navigating his allergies and realizing how prevalent soy was in processed foods. Guilt consumed me; I felt responsible for his poor health. Living in a densely populated area of Los Angeles made me wonder if the air quality was to blame. Was I not washing his hands enough? Was his diet unhealthy? Should I be using essential oils or cutting out grains entirely?
Friends and family chimed in, pointing out how my kids (now including a second little one) were “always sick” and that we seemed to be constantly fighting off something. They offered a slew of suggestions—vitamins, supplements, better sanitization methods at the store (like really, how dirty could those carts be?). One friend even suggested my house might be too clean after I posted about our ongoing health battles. Right, that must be the problem.
I found myself endlessly Googling, desperate for answers. I splurged on bizarre, overpriced “immunity” products from Whole Foods and forced my kids to ingest some pretty unpalatable mixtures hoping for a miracle. For a while, it seemed like some of it worked. But then there was another cold, another fever, another round of diarrhea.
I turned to Oliver’s pediatrician for advice, pleading, “Just tell me what I’m doing wrong. How can I help him?” He suggested I stop taking him to gatherings with other kids. Seriously? There had to be a deeper issue at play—something beyond just toddler germs! I was determined to get to the bottom of it, but the doctor reassured me that he was perfectly healthy and that sickness was a normal part of childhood.
Eventually, I confronted the nagging thought that I was failing as a mother if I couldn’t shield my son from germs. It haunted me, day in and day out. I’d see other moms and wonder how often their kids got sick or how meticulously they cleaned their homes. I questioned every aspect of my parenting until I finally got to the heart of the matter.
I loved my son, I provided him with reasonably nutritious meals, and he occasionally ate vegetables. We played outside daily and enjoyed social interactions. Sure, there were times when we could have limited screen time or cut down on sugar, but he wasn’t consuming excessive amounts of either. The reality was, I truly wasn’t the cause of his illnesses. The pediatrician was right—perhaps if I wanted to isolate us from the world, we could avoid germs altogether.
I realized I didn’t have to carry that burden of guilt. If your children also seem to catch every bug that’s going around, you don’t need to shoulder that weight either. Take heart, fellow moms; unless you’re serving them questionable concoctions from the local water treatment center, you’re likely not the reason for their ailments. Kids just get sick.
Could some of our little ones stand to get more sleep or consume less sugar? Absolutely. Could we be more vigilant with disinfecting surfaces? Maybe. But most of us are genuinely doing our best, and if there were a surefire way to keep our children healthy all the time, we’d use it.
So, the next time your kids come down with a mild cold or something more severe like a nasty stomach bug, don’t point fingers at yourself. Administer the appropriate care, whether it’s Tylenol or a favorite remedy, fill up the humidifier, and snuggle close. Remind yourself that being present for your little one—comforting them even if it means dealing with a bit of mess—is what truly defines you as a loving mom, not whether or not they get sick in the first place.
Next time those pesky germs invade our home, I’ll be ready. Instead of stressing over whether I’ve cleaned enough or given the right mix of supplements, I’ll focus on being grateful for my little germ factories and getting them back to health without guilt.
And let’s not forget the wonderful moments we’ve shared together—the bedtime stories, spontaneous dance parties, sweet words of encouragement, and those cherished bedtime snuggles. These are the memories that remind me that having sick kids doesn’t make me a bad mom, and neither does it for you.
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