After an unexpected complication during what was supposed to be a routine outpatient surgery, I found myself facing a six-week recovery period that left me mostly confined to a bed, couch, or recliner. Under strict orders from my doctor—and due to my limited mobility—I basically didn’t move for weeks on end.
Initially, the thought of being unable to handle my usual responsibilities—the one person who keeps everything running smoothly in our household—was terrifying. I imagined my home falling apart in a matter of days. Hours, even. Maybe minutes? I mean, I do everything. All of it.
No one else seems to grasp all that “everything” entails. It just gets done—cleaning, cooking, organizing—often without anyone noticing the effort involved. So, how would my family of five cope when all those tasks were suddenly abandoned because I was laid up for weeks? From my hospital bed, I dreaded the prospect of chaos, took another pain pill, and hoped for the best.
Surprisingly, things got done. My family stepped up. We all survived.
As mothers, we often convince ourselves that we’re irreplaceable. We take pride in doing it all ourselves, often wondering if our families would even function without us. We fear that the moment we step back, everything will come crashing down.
But I’m here to tell you that it won’t. In fact, when the “captain” is sidelined, the seemingly helpless crew (your family) can rise to the occasion and manage just fine.
During my weeks of recovery, I didn’t do any grocery shopping, yet food magically appeared in our pantry. My husband and teenagers are capable of picking up groceries—who knew? I didn’t wake up to prepare hot breakfasts, yet my kids managed to rise on their own (thanks to this marvel called an alarm clock) and find something to eat before school.
I didn’t pack a single lunch, and yet, no one went to school without food. It’s not a miracle; it’s just kids who know where the pantry is located and can put Cheez-Its in their lunchboxes on their own.
I didn’t sign any permission slips, homework packets, or notes for the teacher, yet they all got signed. Turns out, kids can say, “DAD, CAN YOU SIGN THIS?” without needing my intervention.
I didn’t prepare a single dinner, and still, nobody starved. Friends and neighbors brought meals occasionally, but what amazed me most was that my kids managed to feed themselves without a second thought. Hungry kids will figure it out when hunger is the alternative.
I didn’t do laundry, yet everyone had clean clothes. Necessity breeds creativity. It also encourages kids to think: “I don’t want to wear dirty underwear to school, so I guess I’ll teach myself how to add detergent and press the start button on the washing machine.” And they did.
While my children are teenagers and capable of handling responsibilities that younger kids may not be able to, the most significant realization during my recovery wasn’t just that they stepped up. It was that I allowed them to do so. Because I was too fatigued to micromanage their independence, they truly embraced it. I wasn’t hovering, insisting things be done my way (the “right” way). Without my interference, they had the chance to demonstrate their ability to contribute to the household.
Ultimately, I learned that relinquishing control is essential not only for my peace of mind but also for their growth into self-sufficient young adults. Besides, being in bed for six weeks wasn’t all that bad—thank you, Netflix!
For more insight on family dynamics and parenting matters, check out this excellent resource on IVF and explore our discussion on couples’ fertility journeys.