I cry a lot. I cry at parades. I cry when I visit an old folks home. I cry when I see any kind of human compassion or kindness. Especially when it is directed toward me or my husband or my kids. I cry when I am frustrated. I cry when I am scared. I cry when I am happy. I cry when I hear beautiful music. I cry when I visit aquariums.
However, this past weekend when my daughter broke her arm and she was in a lot of pain, I didn't cry. A few hours later when she was told she needed to spend the night in the hospital and have surgery early the next morning...i didn't cry. When the floor we were admitted to had many many sick kids and sad families all around us...i did not cry. When they rolled her into surgery, I did not cry. Waiting two hours for the surgeon to let us know the surgery was over...i did not cry and watching her quiet and still and peaceful under anesthesia... i did not cry.
We came home form the hospital and she was in a lot of pain. A couple days later...We managed the pain and on Halloween which is also her birthday, she decided to go back to school. I walked her in, gave the nurse her pain medication should she need it and talked to her teacher about what happened.
I said good bye. I got into my car. And... I cried. I cried hard. The entire weekend caught up to me. I cried all day and not really sure why. I guess the stress of it all was stored in my body, and I was strong for my daughter and for my husband and once subconsciously or consciously i knew everyone was fine and I could let me guard down...the tears came.
Now, I know I am lucky this was just a broken arm. In the hospital I saw moms dealing with much much worse and needing to be much much stronger than I needed to be. But it was nice for me to see and to learn that although I may seem mentally or emotionally fragile to some... I know that I am strong and i just proved it to myself. And... at the end of the day, its kind of just nice to know.