The Guilty Mother - Cindy

There are many days when I think how unfair it is to Kate to be growing up in a family where the dad is in this disease situation.  There’s no coaching her soccer team or hitting tennis balls with her at the neighborhood court.  There will be no traditional father-daughter dance at her school or at her wedding someday.

But then I try to force myself to count the love and affection we’ve given her and try to feel better about the parts of her life outside of Kemp’s physical abilities.  Like the obstacles course (for her to run) that he would set up in the living room when she was little and her delight in finishing them “under time.”  Or his lessons in chess and poker and now finding them taking a break from homework for a game.

This week, Kate and I went to her first appointment with a new pediatrician.  As always, I mentioned Kemp’s MS as I think Kate’s doctors, and my own, should know the full picture of what we live amidst on a daily basis.  After the checkup and private time spent with Kate, the doctor said to me “Kate’s a really well-adjusted girl considering the circumstances.”  

I nearly cried right there in the pediatrician’s lobby.  I needed that reassurance, that seal of approval for all my uncertainties and self-imposed guilt.