Trauma Doesn't Tell Time

Notes From A Mom Who Has Survived Cold & Flu Seasons

I’ve been told by many sage mothers that every family has one year where they can’t remember a week where someone in the family wasn’t sick. They say that every family goes through it - it’s a horrible, trying rite of passage. But, eventually, you get through it, you move on, and you’re able to move forward with your life beyond tracking the tylenol/motrin + antibiotic rotation. 

Our year was in 2022. It was the longest cold and flu season of my life - we were at the doctor's office every week for 18 weeks straight. We fought random colds, COVID, pnuemonia, hand foot mouth, and an unknown virus for about 4 months straight. The worst of it was 4 nights in the hospital with my 3 week old. It was honestly the hardest stretch of motherhood I’ve had so far. 

And this week, I found myself sitting in the same doctor’s office, lamenting the fact that my therapist was very, very right. 

A few months ago, I cried while in therapy - sharing a story about that season of my life; the year of sickness. She gently asked if maybe that season was something worth exploring. Something worth doing some trauma work around?

And I brushed her off. I thought about it for a day or two. I landed on, “what are you talking about? I’m fine! I’m resilient! I made it through.” The sage moms have spoken: my horrible year of sickness is up; it’s over. Let’s move on. 

And yet, as I sat in the doctor's office last week, with tears running down my cheeks, I realized that she was right. There is in fact a there, there. 

We were the first appointment of the morning, and there was a doctor and three medical techs in the room - Unfortuantely, too many people for me to be overreacting, and never a great sign. One of my kids had labored breathing, and we’d driven home from a trip - into the night, with him feverish and delirious, to get home for that appointment. I knew something was wrong. I hoped I was being overreactive… that I was being the kind of mom that gets eye rolls. But they started saying things that were familiar from a few years ago - they rolled in the pulse oximeter to check his oxygen levels, they swabbed him for an initial test - three main viruses, and he wouldn’t eat the popsicle they gave him. And they looked at me with worried eyes, while the tears continued to stream.

I remember a few years ago, being on the phone with an advice nurse and her asking me if he was lethargic… At the time, I didn’t know. What is tired, feverish, and sleepy enough to be described as “lethargic”? It seemed arbitrary, but it no longer does. I know exactly what lethargic looks like, and last week, my kid was it. 

The tears kept rolling as I looked at the serious eye contact they were making - unsure of what the unspoken words meant, but assuming it wasn’t good. The doctor asked me about a medication my son had been on in the past, and I stared at him blankly - he showed me the screen he was looking at, and the medication was listed, October 2022. And I went blank. I couldn’t remember the specifics from that season - I could only remember surviving. 

Eventually, the doctor looked at me and said, “help me understand the tears.” 

He’s new to the practice, he wasn’t one of the 6 doctors we saw on repeat that horrible cold and flu season, so I explained. I told him this was how it all started last time. How we ended up in the hospital. How a fever and not eating the popscile led to the ER, being admitted, and crying my way through the better part of 4 days. How I sobbed when they gave the spinal tap. The tears were not new. Neither was the familiarity of the process. 

After I blubbered my way through the story, he looked me in the eye and said, “I know it feels like it’s the same, but there’s a lot that’s different this time.” 

And he was right. 

This time, it was a 4 year old; not a 2 week old. 

This time, he’s old enough to have all his vaccinations; he’s not vulnerable in the same ways, to the most concerning infections.  

This time, we have a community, a rolodex of people we could call for help; last time we had just moved. 

This time, I knew the doctors, the hospital system, and our insurance; last time everyone and everything about the process was new. 

This time, I have a therapist lined up (who is evidently on-it); last time I wasn’t seeing anyone. 

This time, I know better how to advocate for myself, and my kid, because I survived last time. 

It wasn’t like I couldn’t feel the impact of my history at that moment - in fact, I said to the doctor, “I’m cognitively aware that my emotional reaction is disproportiate to what’s going on here”. Honestly, I’m not sure if I would have had the same awareness had my therapist not brought this exact situation up a few months back, but as with many things - the awareness doesn’t often make it feel better. 

I realize that not everyone is going through something triggering today.

But, maybe for you, it’s being home for the holidays. Maybe it’s the time of year where you lost someone important to you, or an anniversary day. Maybe it’s driving when it's raining, having someone get verbally aggressive, getting a text from a specific someone, or being in a big room full of people you don’t know. Maybe it’s pregnancy, or postpartum, or toddler bedtime. 

It’s possible your triggers are avoidable, but some triggers aren’t - like cold & flu season with 3 small kids. 

And one of the things we can do, is exactly what my pediatrician did at that moment - it’s something I do with clients all the time. It’s noticing what’s different this time. 

Unfortunately for all of us, trauma doesn’t tell time. The way we react when we feel triggered is as if the worst is happening right now. It’s protective - our brain and our instincts moving quickly to keep us alive. But it’s also scary. And it leads to a big response, which can feel disproportionate to what’s going on in the moment. So how do you bring yourself back in those moments? 

This week, when something feels hard, triggering, or like you’ve been here before and it sucked, I want you to ask: how is it different this time?

• How life has changed since the last time you felt this way?

• In what ways is the actual situation different than previous ones?

• In what ways are you stronger, better prepared for this?

• Are there people that will support you if it goes the way it did before?

• What did you learn from last time that will help? (*if you’re right and this is the same, the fact that you’ve done it before is different!)

For the worried moms - several doctor’s appointments later, he is thankfully on the mend. <3