No one really talks about this part

 No one really talks about this part.

Having a sick child who absolutely refuses oral medication is its own kind of anxiety.

You are already worried about the fever, the cough, the way their eyes look glassy and tired. You are watching the clock. Counting hours. Googling symptoms you promised yourself you wouldn’t Google.

And then comes the medicine.

The spit out syringes.
The gagging.
The tears.
The panic in their eyes because they don’t understand that you are trying to help them.

You’re doing math in your head. How much actually went down. Did any of it stay. Is it enough. Is it too late to try again. Should I force it. Should I stop. Am I making this worse.

You feel helpless in a way that’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there.

Because you can’t make them understand that this tiny cup or syringe could help them feel better. All they know is that they feel awful and now something else is being pushed on them when they already have nothing left.

So you hold them.
You bargain.
You cry in the bathroom after.
You blame yourself for something you can’t control.

If this is you right now, you’re not failing.
You’re not dramatic.
You’re a parent trying to keep their child safe with the tools you have.

This part is hard.
It’s scary.
And it’s okay to admit that.