Love reading this. We mothers never quit worrying about our children. When my older son was diagnosed (no need to say what), I cried and prayed. He’s doing well, picture of health, but it ended his career as a pilot. He has moved on to another profession and amazes me all the time. He’s a hard worker, the best father anyone could be, and a great husband. My admiration grows each year. He manages his condition by never slowing down, still running marathons when he has time to train properly. I still pray for him and my other son every night, always will. My two sons are my true blessings and they have been so good to me. I’m blessed with grandchildren as I continue to be amazed, grateful, and loved. I thank God daily for these blessings of motherhood.
This is beautiful. I felt every word. And so did every other mom.
Motherhood is the best thing. I thank God for our daughter, and sometimes I even thank her for being mine.
I grieve for the old girlboss me, and the kids we never had, and for all the women who never get the chance to experience the marvel that is being Mom because they're caught up in that silly girlboss nonsense like I was.
Crazy to think that while you were writing your articles and book on kids being forced into gender transitions, all this may have been happening to you on the side, if I have the timing right. That is often the way of it; when you are fighting battles in the public square, all hell breaks loose at home.
You are blessed that your child got well. Not all of us were as fortunate.
There is something spectacular about someone who writes something that you so deeply understand. As a mom of a son who had open heart surgery at the age of five, and also a senior executive of a billion dollar company, I completely agree that the fiery fierceness and the deep selflessness that come from motherhood are unlike any other super powers. Thank you for sharing this!
The sky on January 17, 1988 was the bluest of blues, with a brisk breeze out of the north. I was walking across the parking lot to the hospital, having just dropped off our two young sons with their godmother after we went to church. My wife was already at the hospital with our three-year-old daughter, who was having an MRI and a bone marrow aspiration. At 1:00 pm, the pediatrician came in the room and said to the assembled group of family members, "I'm sorry your daughter has cancer". My wife and I learned more about neuroblastoma than we wished to know. 1 out 100,000 children, 70% of the time it starts on the cortex of the left adrenal gland. Some children are born with it, and the fortunate ones have it disappear before the age of 1, never to return. After age 1, diagnosis is typically stage 4 meaning it is in the bone marrow. Addye was stage 4. After 8 weeks of chemo, her bone marrow was clean and we waited while she had 4 hours of surgery to remove as much of the solid tumors in her thoracic cavity as safely possible; the pediatric surgeon knew from experience the tumors had transformed benign. It was incredible!
Fast forward to Sept 21, 1993, 1:35 AM, room 5319 of St Francis Hospital where my wife and I sat by her bedside where she passed from life to Life After Death. The bone marrow transplant had failed; the cancer had returned angry.
As hard as it was, I would not trade any of that time. Addye and Heather became best friends in the clinic while getting chemo; they had wheelchair races in the halls, played with Barbies, and played tricks on the nurses. We recently flew to Boston to visit Heather and her family with lots of laughter, smiles, and memories. Thank you, Ms. Shrier, for sharing your son's story. What a great ending!
When my son was an infant, he had a febrile convulsion. My wife and I thought he was going to die. By the time we got him to the doctor, his fever had broken and he was basically fine. His doctor, who had also been my pediatrician, said, "These things are often harder on the parents than on the kids." Fortunately, we never had a real health scare or had to take our kids for surgery. They're now both adults in their 40s, and my daughter is the mother of a three-year-old. I sent her this article, which she appreciated. Thanks, Abigail, for your wisdom.
I didn’t think I could love this woman more than I did after reading her books and her articles. I was wrong. A beautiful, brilliant, heartfelt testament to a mother’s love. Thank you, Abigail Shrier.
You described motherhood as best I’ve ever read. Even though I’ve had a successful career, I never truly ever wanted to be anything but a mother and wasn’t embarrassed to admit it. I feel sorry for the young women who will never know this due to their own ridiculousness.
Amen. And sometimes it is a thankless journey which our children will never know. In my case I had to do it alone. Still I would do the same things if I had to do them over.
A perfect description of parenthood! The narcissism permeating our culture robs many of this most fulfilling part of life.
Love reading this. We mothers never quit worrying about our children. When my older son was diagnosed (no need to say what), I cried and prayed. He’s doing well, picture of health, but it ended his career as a pilot. He has moved on to another profession and amazes me all the time. He’s a hard worker, the best father anyone could be, and a great husband. My admiration grows each year. He manages his condition by never slowing down, still running marathons when he has time to train properly. I still pray for him and my other son every night, always will. My two sons are my true blessings and they have been so good to me. I’m blessed with grandchildren as I continue to be amazed, grateful, and loved. I thank God daily for these blessings of motherhood.
This is beautiful. I felt every word. And so did every other mom.
Motherhood is the best thing. I thank God for our daughter, and sometimes I even thank her for being mine.
I grieve for the old girlboss me, and the kids we never had, and for all the women who never get the chance to experience the marvel that is being Mom because they're caught up in that silly girlboss nonsense like I was.
I feel this in my bones. Lovely piece.
Crazy to think that while you were writing your articles and book on kids being forced into gender transitions, all this may have been happening to you on the side, if I have the timing right. That is often the way of it; when you are fighting battles in the public square, all hell breaks loose at home.
You are blessed that your child got well. Not all of us were as fortunate.
Thanks for this. Blessings upon you and yours.
There is something spectacular about someone who writes something that you so deeply understand. As a mom of a son who had open heart surgery at the age of five, and also a senior executive of a billion dollar company, I completely agree that the fiery fierceness and the deep selflessness that come from motherhood are unlike any other super powers. Thank you for sharing this!
The sky on January 17, 1988 was the bluest of blues, with a brisk breeze out of the north. I was walking across the parking lot to the hospital, having just dropped off our two young sons with their godmother after we went to church. My wife was already at the hospital with our three-year-old daughter, who was having an MRI and a bone marrow aspiration. At 1:00 pm, the pediatrician came in the room and said to the assembled group of family members, "I'm sorry your daughter has cancer". My wife and I learned more about neuroblastoma than we wished to know. 1 out 100,000 children, 70% of the time it starts on the cortex of the left adrenal gland. Some children are born with it, and the fortunate ones have it disappear before the age of 1, never to return. After age 1, diagnosis is typically stage 4 meaning it is in the bone marrow. Addye was stage 4. After 8 weeks of chemo, her bone marrow was clean and we waited while she had 4 hours of surgery to remove as much of the solid tumors in her thoracic cavity as safely possible; the pediatric surgeon knew from experience the tumors had transformed benign. It was incredible!
Fast forward to Sept 21, 1993, 1:35 AM, room 5319 of St Francis Hospital where my wife and I sat by her bedside where she passed from life to Life After Death. The bone marrow transplant had failed; the cancer had returned angry.
As hard as it was, I would not trade any of that time. Addye and Heather became best friends in the clinic while getting chemo; they had wheelchair races in the halls, played with Barbies, and played tricks on the nurses. We recently flew to Boston to visit Heather and her family with lots of laughter, smiles, and memories. Thank you, Ms. Shrier, for sharing your son's story. What a great ending!
Absolutely beautiful and I hope it goes viral!
When my son was an infant, he had a febrile convulsion. My wife and I thought he was going to die. By the time we got him to the doctor, his fever had broken and he was basically fine. His doctor, who had also been my pediatrician, said, "These things are often harder on the parents than on the kids." Fortunately, we never had a real health scare or had to take our kids for surgery. They're now both adults in their 40s, and my daughter is the mother of a three-year-old. I sent her this article, which she appreciated. Thanks, Abigail, for your wisdom.
I didn’t think I could love this woman more than I did after reading her books and her articles. I was wrong. A beautiful, brilliant, heartfelt testament to a mother’s love. Thank you, Abigail Shrier.
Beautifully observed and written.
You described motherhood as best I’ve ever read. Even though I’ve had a successful career, I never truly ever wanted to be anything but a mother and wasn’t embarrassed to admit it. I feel sorry for the young women who will never know this due to their own ridiculousness.
Beautiful writing.
Amen. And sometimes it is a thankless journey which our children will never know. In my case I had to do it alone. Still I would do the same things if I had to do them over.
A beautiful testimony to faith, hope and love. 💞