Parenthood is about desperately wanting the best for your offspring. Cherry picking the best bits of your DNA to bestow upon them. Wanting them to avoid the pitfalls and to be happy and fulfilled.
I had my fist migraine around the age of eight. It took me a while, and a few more migraines, to understand what was happening. In those days medication was the first port of call. So I went on that medication and I'm still paying for the side effects.
Thankfully adulthood has brought relief, and it's been a few years since the last one.
Yesterday Marv - my cast-iron-constitution child, the one who has not yet needed saving by modern medicine - had her first migraine. And I feel responsible and devastated and angry. I want to stop it from ever happening again, but that is beyond my control.
So today she stayed home from school, still recovering. Did I keep her home for me or for her? I wanted to watch her all day, to reassure her and explain it all again and again. But she wanted to dress up like a fairy and write me a poem. She is okay. I'm not sure that I am.