10. Being Mum Through All of This
- kiwifigure
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
There’s been a lot to process through this experience.
The appointments.
The surgery.
The waiting.
The diagnosis.
The recovery.
But underneath all of that, there’s been something constant.
Being Mum.
Carrying Two Things at Once
What I’ve realised is that I haven’t just been navigating this for myself.
I’ve been holding two things at the same time:
What I’m feeling
And what they might feel.
Trying to process something that feels heavy… while also wanting to keep their world steady.
The Weight of the Word
Hearing the word cancer is one thing.
But thinking about how that word might sound to your children is something else entirely.
At their age, does it mean just one thing?
Do they hear it and think:
Mum is dying?
That thought has probably been one of the hardest parts of this whole experience.
Not the surgery.
Not the recovery.
But the idea of what this could feel like for them.
Wanting to Protect Them
There’s a strong instinct to protect.
To soften things.
To filter information.
To make sure they feel safe, no matter what’s happening.
But at the same time, I’ve felt the importance of being honest.
Not overwhelming them — but not hiding it either.
Trying to find that balance has been something I’ve thought about a lot.
The Conversations
These aren’t easy conversations.
There’s no script for them.
No perfect way to explain something that you’re still processing yourself.
So it’s been about keeping it simple.
Reassuring them.
Answering questions as they come.
Letting them see that I’m okay — even when I’m still figuring it out.
What They See (Even When You Don’t Say It)
Children notice more than we realise.
They see:
The slower pace
The tiredness
The changes.
Even when we try to carry on as normal.
And that’s made me more aware of how I show up.
Not perfectly — but honestly.
But what I didn’t fully expect was how aware they would be.
In their own way, they’ve recognised that my energy has changed.
That I need to rest more.
That I can’t always do what I normally would.
And they’ve met that with a kind of quiet understanding that I’m so grateful for.
It hasn’t been dramatic.
It hasn’t needed big conversations every time.
Just small moments of awareness.
Of patience.
Of adjusting alongside me.
And that’s meant more than I can probably explain.
The Guilt
There have been moments of guilt too.
Guilt for:
Not having the same energy
Not being as present as I’d like to be
Needing to rest instead of ‘do’.
Because as mums, we’re so used to being the constant.
The steady one.
The one who keeps everything moving.
And this has asked me to step back from that — even just a little.
But in those moments, I’ve also seen something else.
That maybe stepping back hasn’t taken away from them — it’s just changed how we show up for each other.
Slower.
Softer.
More aware.
What This Has Changed
At the same time, this experience has shifted something in me.
It’s made the small moments feel bigger.
The ordinary things feel more important.
Sitting together.
Laughing.
Being present — really present.
Not rushing through the day, but actually being in it.
Love, Said Out Loud
If there’s one thing this has reinforced, it’s this:
Say it.
Say “I love you”.
Say it often.
Say it without waiting for the “right moment”.
Because we assume we’ll always have time to say those things.
And this has reminded me not to take that for granted.
Still Mum, Just Different
I’m still me.
Still Mum.
Just navigating a season that looks a little different.
Slower.
More intentional.
More aware.
Where I Am Now
Right now, I’m still figuring this out.
Balancing recovery, emotions, and everyday life.
Doing my best to:
Be present
Be honest
And be there for them.
Even on the days that feel harder than others.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all of this, it’s that motherhood doesn’t pause when life gets hard.
If anything, it becomes even more important.
And maybe, that’s where a lot of my strength has come from.




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