A child’s first hospitalization is a watershed event. In my family, life is clearly divided: before that hospitalization and after.

Before my daughter’s first hospitalization at age 15, we had a struggling child and shifting diagnoses. We could occasionally glimpse a “normal” child, and we tried to convince ourselves that things really weren’t so bad. We were sure that our daughter would be fine once we found the right medication. That day couldn’t come a moment too soon!

After the hospitalization, we were immigrants in a strange land. The language and acronyms were new to us. We had no idea what the future might hold, but we knew there was no going back. We recognized that our daughter’s illness would be a lifelong challenge and we let go of the expectation that the right medication would solve everything. 

Our learning curve was steep, because there was so much to absorb before we could even ask the right questions. Looking back, I am amazed at how much territory we covered in such a short time. It’s a blur.

My daughter will soon turn 22, and I still don’t know what the future holds. But I count myself lucky, because I have The Balanced Mind Foundation, a support group, and hard-won knowledge to share. Even when things are really, really, awful, I know from past experience that life will get better. 

I have also worried about the impact that my daughter’s illness has had on my other children, both younger. My son, now 16, offered reassurance in an English class essay he wrote recently about an event that changed his life. He chose to write about his sister’s first hospitalization, which occurred when he was just 10. 

My son wrote that he didn’t understand everything that was happening, but he knew he was urgently dispatched to a neighbor’s house because a crisis was unfolding. He wrote that he grew up on that day, and afterward he consciously strove to be more self-sufficient and thoughtful about his choices. Today, he wrote, he is more independent and more empathetic as a result.

I can’t cure my daughter, but I can try to look ahead with hope. My son’s essay reminded me that we are a different family today, but we are stronger too.