11/12/2025
When Hugh was diagnosed, a chaplain came round to see us. I’ll be honest I panicked. I’m not religious, and I thought, why is she here?
Then a clinical psychologist came by. Ten minutes, sitting next to Hugh while we tried to process what had just been said. We never saw her again. When the consultant told us about Hugh, he said “This isn’t in the parent handbook.”
And he was right. We had to grow up overnight. Build a level of armour no one should ever need. But no one showed us how.
When a child becomes seriously ill, all focus rightly turns to the child. But swept away in that tidal wave are the parents.
I’ve seen that look on a parent’s face the one who has just been told their child has cancer. Fear etched so deeply it’s almost permanent. Tears not yet falling, but sitting heavy in their eyes. That feeling like you’re in an ice bath every nerve alive, adrenaline and despair fighting for control.
At that point, the system should catch you. It should build you up, comfort you, guide you. But it doesn’t.
You’re left to navigate Google. Search for community groups. Scroll social media at 2am hoping someone understands.
And yet, when we talk about mental health, we talk about new parents. We value their wellbeing as the happiest time of their lives. We create support groups, funding, networks.
But we ignore parents at the worst time of their lives. Having a child is planned nine months of preparation, advice, and care. Having a child diagnosed with a life-threatening illness is not. It happens in a second. And there is no system waiting for you.
That needs to change. We need to value the mental health of all parents not just when life begins, but when it falls apart.
🦋 It’s Never You
