Mono Vs. Mama
The year 2025 has proven to be a doozy. Last spring, after the fire at the antique store where I worked for many years, my youngest daughter started complaining that her legs felt funny. She would tell me on repeat that she was tired and didn’t feel like herself. Since January she had experienced four ear infections brought on by bad winter viruses. As her mom I already felt sorry that she was having such a hard time getting healthy again, so when she began complaining about these mysterious symptoms, I was quick to jump into worry. One afternoon she came to me and said, “Mommy, I think I need a counselor because I feel crazy.” It was the next day I took her to the doctor to try and figure out why my sweet girl just wasn’t getting better.
Over a series of weeks, it would become clear that my youngest had mononucleosis, better known as the “kissing disease” (my ten-year-old made sure everyone knew she did not kiss anybody!). The adventure with this germ was not an easy one because her symptoms didn’t get better like everyone thought, but instead, escalated and hung around longer than anyone predicted. Her blood showed her white and red blood cells declining rapidly which was a cause for concern, even for the doctor. As a mom I was having to rely on my own instincts each day to determine whether to encourage her to go to school when she was feeling well or allow her to stay home when she was exhausted. Discernment was getting harder to come by as my fears of the unknown became more powerful. When do I take her to the doctor again? What did the doctor say about how long this will last? How sick is she going to get? How many people is too many people to ask if they’ve had Mono before so I can compare notes? What if she doesn’t get better? What if…
As I’ve shared before, parenting has challenged my OCD in ways I’d never ask for on purpose. Exposure Response Prevention gives patients the chance to challenge their fears in an ordered fashion, but this experience was forcing me to do that whether I was wanting to or not. One of the categories of OCD that I struggle with is health OCD. I often intertwine my fears of getting sick and not being able to fix it with my analysis of how to best care for myself and my children. Seasoned mother’s will often say, “trust your gut,” but my gut sometimes lies to me because it’s rooted in irrational thoughts I can’t unthink. How was I going to navigate this season of health confusion without getting mentally derailed?
At the time of her illness, I was off my anti-anxiety medication. My body was trying to filter all the stress, but eventually the physical toll the anxiety was taking on my body helped me remember my need for that wonderful SSRI. I couldn’t sit in all that uncertainty without it. Medication is not the only answer, but sometimes it can be a big part of helping us navigate the spinning OCD thoughts in times of stress by slowing them all down so we can catch our breath and do the work of using strategies. I will always be thankful for my medication!
I have stepped back into regular therapy. It is refreshing to walk back into the room with someone who has known me so long and hear her say, “yep, that’s your OCD.” Why are those words so freeing? Hearing that my rapid moving thoughts and need to obsess is “normal” for me is empowering, not deflating. OCD is my superpower, but it also causes me to doubt in ways that many people don’t experience. Getting specific validation from someone who knows about the disorder and hearing it named is often all I need to feel a little freer. It feels ironic that a therapist given label would relieve me from the self-created labels that torture me, but I can testify that it works!
Lastly, I am thankful for the community of people who loved and carried me through the season when my little one was so sick. I am praising God that she has made a full recovery. I could not have walked the challenging road without the friends and family who helped me discern what to do and when. They also reminded me to sit in the uncertainty with my hope in our great God who already has everything ordained. Looking back on the long three months she was sick I can see His hand in all the details as He provided the people and help we needed. I’m thankful for how my village helped to remind to keep doing the next right thing to the best of my abilities while trusting God would meet me…and He always did.
