Matching Tracksuits

Taking your daughter to the ER at 11 in the evening is one of those things you never want to do but you seemingly spend most of your time as a parent implicitly fearing. We took her when she was about two or three and hit her head with a loud thud that was terrifying. It turned out to be an unnecessary trip, and after the visit, what the doctor said seemed like something we could have figured out on our own: the large bump — unnaturally large, it seemed — was actually the best sign we could hope for. But we were new parents and inexperienced.

When you make the decision to take her after she’s already been to two different doctor’s visits within the last few days about the same thing — that might seem like the same reaction to an outside observer. But that pitiful crying, that obvious pain that doubles her over for hours — you can only take so much before worry overwhelms you.

Yet knowing the whole story is critical. And we didn’t. And that new information, when we get it, is itself another worry. Another pack of worries. Did we do our best as parents over the last few months? Years? What we discover from parents of her friend calls all that into question.