It was 9:13 pm on November 3rd, 2021, when my phone rang.

The low hum of the refrigerator and the faint creaking of the house settling were the only sounds in my otherwise quiet home. My children were already asleep, my husband out of town for work, and I had just made my usual goodnight call to my oldest, who lived nearby. Expecting nothing more than a routine call from my husband at that hour, I reached for my phone as it rang. I didn’t recognize the number though, so I let it go to voicemail.

The voice on the other end belonged to our pediatrician.

I remember dropping everything, my nightly pickup I was doing long forgotten as I called him back expecting to hear my oldest sons labs from earlier that day did in fact show he had mono as we suspected. All of his symptoms pointed to that. Everything in my world was suddenly irrelevant as I suspect it would be for any mom with a sick kiddo no matter how common you think the illness may be. My heart pounded as he spoke though, because he was speaking with a tone of gravity I hadn’t ever heard from him in the nearly fourteen years he’d been my five children’s pediatrician.

And that’s when he said it… “I’m sorry, but I’m 99% sure this isn’t mono. I’m 99% sure it’s a form of Leukemia.”

My world completely stopped.

At first, I went numb. The sense of normalcy that I had taken for granted shattered in an instant. Ferociously scribbling notes on my whiteboard, I caught every word he uttered, trying to hold onto something solid as the ground gave way beneath me.

I listened to his words as he explained the diagnosis, the urgent need for hospitalization, the urgent need for further tests, and the beginning of what would be an arduous journey. My mind raced with questions and fears. Yet, all I could do was scribble on that whiteboard, knowing that I needed to absorb every detail, to be the rock my son would need. When the call ended, I sank to my knees, collapsing under the weight of those words. My sweet boy was sleeping in his room below me, blissfully unaware that his body was waging the biggest battle of its life.

The feeling of helplessness that washed over me was immense. All I wanted to do was wake him up, hold him tight, and promise that everything was going to be okay. 

BUT WAS IT GOING TO BE, OKAY?

What if I told you that question is one that never goes away after you hear those words?