Parenting
How Adversity Can Strengthen Family Bonds
by Mia Thompson
Updated: July 16, 2023
Originally Published: July 16, 2023
Yesterday, my son had a little mishap. His older sister, in a burst of playfulness, swung open a door, and unfortunately, his small foot was in the wrong place at the wrong time, resulting in a bruised toe. Thankfully, it wasn’t severe — or at least not the kind that sends you into a panic. But that’s not the focus of this story.
What I want to share is how this incident unfolded. My son, Ethan, came to my husband and me in tears. We were sitting at the dinner table, relishing that rare moment of peace after the kids had finished eating but before we had to tackle the mountain of dishes waiting for us. Ethan’s cries were familiar; with four kids in the house, noise is a constant companion, and we often hear shouts of both joy and distress. So when my husband and I turned our attention to him, it was tinged with a hint of annoyance. Those tranquil moments are sacred to us.
My husband, closer to Ethan, noticed first, his view slightly obstructed by the cluttered table. “Mia…” he said, and I instantly understood that this was serious. “Maybe you should check this out?” And just like that, we sprang into action, like a well-coordinated team responding to an emergency. I scooped Ethan into my arms before I even realized I had stood up, while my husband cleared space by the sink so we could clean the injury.
The other kids quickly dashed around the house, returning breathless with their contributions: Band-Aids, favorite blankets, well-loved stuffed animals, and even a warm cup of milk. For that brief moment, we were a cohesive unit, everyone taking on their roles without any bickering or chaos. Together, we united as a family.
Just a few hours later, after a visit to urgent care and getting Ethan settled in my bed, the harmony began to unravel. The familiar sounds of sibling discord returned: Max didn’t want to part with his video games, Lily was desperate for my attention, and Zoe, who has been struggling with feelings of inadequacy, became a storm of tears when I dared to remove her socks because it was too warm. My husband and I were frazzled and exhausted, and I had been uncomfortably dressed for far too long.
If someone had been observing us from a distance, I imagine we would have resembled glass shattering under pressure: first, the tiny cracks appearing, followed by the eventual collapse as we released our pent-up emotions, filling the silence with chaos.
A few days ago, a reader reached out with a question that resonated deeply with me. She had recently endured significant hardship, as many of us do. The specifics aren’t important; what matters is that she had been strong throughout her struggles but found herself feeling lost now that the storm had passed. “I was okay during the hard times,” she shared. “But now that it’s over, I feel worse. Why is that?”
Her words reminded me of a time when my mother and I returned from a funeral of a woman we knew. My mother had spoken at the service, and I recall her walking up to the podium, her heels echoing in the somber church. I couldn’t fathom how those children, now without a mother, were managing to keep it together. I asked my mother about it afterward.
“It’s not during the crisis,” she said. “It’s later, when life resumes and the visitors have gone home. It’s then, in the stillness, that we often break down.” At the time, I didn’t fully comprehend her wisdom. But as I reflect now, it makes sense. How can a warrior crumble when facing an enemy? How could those grieving children have coped without their protective shields, pushing through until the chaos subsided?
How could we have effectively cared for a wounded Ethan if we hadn’t emotionally prepared ourselves against his pain? It’s the same for my reader; she survived to see brighter days, only to find herself floundering in the aftermath.
The truth is, while it’s in the quiet moments that we may fall apart, it’s also through this breaking that we find pathways to healing. Just as removing an uncomfortable bra at the end of the day can bring relief, so too can allowing ourselves to feel and process our emotions.
First, we endure. Then we shatter. Finally, we begin to mend.
The following morning, I asked Ethan how his foot felt. “Is it hurting?” I leaned over him, who was still snug in his covers. He closed his eyes for a moment, and I thought he had drifted back to sleep. But then he opened them, a small smile appearing. “I think maybe it’s better now,” he said, “than it ever was before.” In that moment, I realized we all felt a little bit better.
In summary, tough times can unexpectedly draw families closer together, allowing us to heal and grow stronger in the face of adversity.
For more insights, check out this article on artificial insemination and another post on at-home insemination kits for those exploring family planning options.