I am not a helicopter mum, I am just a mum trying to cope.

Since the death of our son Dennis, it has become clear to others that I have become somewhat of a ‘helicopter’ mum to my living daughter.  I have been called a ‘hellie mum’, heard the words “oh you’re just hellying on”, “you need to relax, she’ll be fine”, “there are other people here watching her too”. I laugh when these comments are made because I do see the humour in them, and I know this is NOT a personal attack on my parenting, my standard response is “oh yeah I know, it’s just….yeah, you know” leaving a long enough pause for the subject to change and then my internal battle with fear begins.

You see, I know I have become so aware of the fragility of a child’s life. As I laugh when these comments are made, my chest is also extremely tight and I am silently struggling to breath. I am trying my hardest not to blurt out the words “yeah I know, I just don’t want her to die”. Even though the odds for that are so very minimal and she may only be running around someone’s yard or at the play ground enjoying a birthday party. It is so hard to control my mind from jumping to the worst possible scenario that would just never happen. But for me, it could just happen, anything and everything is possible now. I know first hand that children can just…. die, for no reason, with no explanation it does ‘just happen’.

An insight into my thought process when my daughter is simply running around someone’s yard. “Where is she? What if a car drives into the driveway right now and they don’t see her and she gets hit? Where is she? What if she is jumping on a bed and falls off and bangs her head and doesn’t recover? Where is she? What if she has slipped on a wet floor, and the worst has happened again?
And the list literally goes on. I know these thoughts are ludicrous at times, still yet, my mind is constantly torturing my soul.

Don’t get me wrong, my daughter can and still does participate in everything she did before Dennis passed. I would never deny her a fun and magical childhood because of my fears. It has just caused me to be 1000 times more vigilant (if that was even possible) and my mind is a constant battlefield of allowing her to be an adventurer and reminding myself that death isn’t a consequence of all her activities.

So if you see me frantically looking for my child, I’ve probably not seen her in the last 30 seconds and I am panicking haha.
I am concious of my irratic thought process and I am working on it every time we step out of the house.  Sometimes I see the humour, other times not (when I have reached my coping threshold). I just ask for patience, awareness and understanding.

I’m not a helicopter mum, I am a mum who has experienced the death of a child and will do everything in my control to never experience this again.